Farewell (Part 3)
"Didn't he get into a fight and end up in the hospital?"
An eerie silence hung in the air between the three of them, none of them knowing what to say. Fortunately, a disheveled policeman emerged from the intensive care unit, sweating profusely as he made a phone call.
Zhou Zeyu was about to go up and ask a few questions, but upon closer inspection, he realized something was wrong. He exclaimed "Huh?" and hesitated before stopping.
Are traffic police the ones handling brawls in Belgrade? That doesn't seem quite right.
Countless questions piled up in Zhou Zeyi's mind. He felt his ears ringing, and he was almost overcome with drowsiness and headache. He quickly stopped thinking about it and grabbed Ericf to ask him questions.
"What exactly happened?"
Seeing that she was pale, Eric quickly helped her to a bench and got her a glass of water. Zhou Zeyu bowed her head and thanked him, waiting for him to speak.
"Sorkov ran into that thug when he got your suitcase back," Anna said.
Erik continued, "Then they started fighting."
Zhou Zeyu's vision went black: "They've got him into the ICU?"
“Of course not!” Erikev suddenly looked hesitant, as if he thought no one would believe him even if he told the story. “Then the thug tried to call the police, but he fell into the river on the way. Solkov pulled him out of the river, and then the man was hit by a car on the road. Solkov was the one who brought him to the hospital.”
Zhou Zeyu remained strangely silent for a while, then suddenly spoke without warning.
"Is this really something that can actually happen?"
“We’d like to ask that question too,” the two said in unison.
Zhou Zeyu slapped his forehead, took a deep breath, and felt a splitting headache. He simply gave up thinking and tried to stand up, supporting himself on the armrest of the chair.
Where to?
A familiar voice suddenly came from behind them, startling all three of them. Zhou Zeyu had been frightened too much in the past hour and screamed in terror. He turned around and suddenly saw Sorkov appear there.
"How did you suddenly appear here!"
Sorkov's face still bore the marks of its wounds, the dark red scars brazenly exposed to the air. Clearly, its owner hadn't taken good care of it, leaving behind dust and impurities, with traces of blood still faintly visible.
He shrugged indifferently, expressionless: "Why can't I be here? Can't I come to visit someone in the hospital?"
Visiting someone in the hospital? What kind of hospital? That unlucky guy who fell into the river and got hit by a car?
Changing the subject, he suddenly looked at her again, his tone carrying a hint of mockery: "And you? You nice guy, did you come here specifically to visit the person who stole your suitcase?"
Zhou Zeyu's face darkened. She was too lazy to explain the matter to him. Besides, there was no way to explain this misunderstanding. Could she say that she thought the unlucky guy who was beaten up was him? Given Sorkov's temper, he might get even angrier after thinking about it for a while.
The more you say, the more mistakes you make; it's better to keep quiet. She glared at him with dissatisfaction, but still couldn't help but step forward and pat his shoulder.
"Does it hurt? Where are you hurt?"
She hadn't used much force at all, yet Sorkov vaguely showed signs of pain. Zhou Zeyu knew he was probably acting again, and subconsciously assumed he was faking pain, so she didn't take it to heart and instead planned to make fun of him.
"I see you're nothing special. What are you trying to prove? Go find someone to treat this wound on your face, it looks awful."
Sorkov, who had been keeping his head down, suddenly gave her a weak smile after hearing her words, and without saying a word, he covered his right shoulder and slowly walked away.
Zhou Zeyu watched his retreating figure, then suddenly seemed to realize something, gasped again, and her expression twisted uncontrollably. She quickly jogged a few steps to catch up: "Sorkov! You didn't really hurt your shoulder, did you!"
Sorkov remained silent, only stopping his shoulder-twisting motion and lowering his hands. He showed no intention of slowing down to wait for her, not even sparing her a glance, completely ignoring her.
He clearly fought with that thug and injured his shoulder because of her, yet she still mocks and provokes him. She's really not a human being!
Zhou Zeyu felt increasingly guilty, and his pace quickened until he finally managed to detour around to block his path. "I'm sorry! Sorkov, I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were really injured."
Her voice softened, becoming almost inaudible at the end: "And... thank you for helping me find my suitcase."
Sorkov remained expressionless, but his expression seemed somber. "I don't blame you. Move aside."
He tried to walk around her and pass by on the right, but Zhou Zeyu noticed his intention a step earlier and stepped in that direction to block his way.
Sorkov closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, sighed as if resigned to his fate, and turned left.
Zhou Zeyu reacted quickly and blocked the way again, leaving no room for doubt.
Sorkov raised his hand, seemingly wanting to pat her head. Zhou Zeyu reflexively shrank back, quickly covering her head and hiding to the side. But when she looked at him again, she found that he had already turned and walked away at some point.
Zhou Zeyu felt somewhat disappointed, but she still ran forward to chase after him. Of course, she knew that Solkov was angry. If what happened today had happened to her, she would have been very angry too. But the most important thing right now was to get him to treat his wounds as soon as possible.
"I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry, but you should also get your wound treated!"
For some reason, although it was clear that Sorkov was the weaker one of the two, Zhou Zeyu was left far behind and couldn't even catch up with him at a jog. He could only watch helplessly as Sorkov turned and disappeared around a corner.
She chased after him all the way, trying every possible way to persuade him, but to no avail. This showed that Sorkov was a truly stubborn man, the kind who wouldn't budge even if you tied a rope around his neck.
Zhou Zeyu let out a deep breath, and disappointedly found a bench to sit down. He stared blankly at the bustling corner in the distance, unsure whether he should continue chasing after it.
So before that, he must have been the one slowing down and waiting for her.
Zhou Zeyu suddenly felt a little lost and annoyed by the kindness he received only because he was at a disadvantage. Yet, for some reason, an inexplicable sense of loss welled up in his heart, as if someone had suddenly ripped something out of his chest and left him feeling empty and vulnerable.
She hated this feeling, and even more so the fact that she had inexplicably fallen into a slump. So, she pretended to be calm, readjusted her breathing, blinked her dry eyes, and decided to go back the way she came to find Anna and Eric.
But she still didn't understand where her emotions came from. Was it just because he walked away quickly without waiting for her? This sounded like something only a kindergartener would care about, but she was already an adult. Logically, her emotions should have become calm and composed over the years. But she knew she was very sad right now, a sadness that she couldn't ignore or hide.
Is she sad for Sorkov, or for herself?
Zhou Zeyu felt increasingly distressed. She felt that she probably shouldn't have gone out today, and even thought that her hasty rush was incredibly stupid. What was she worrying about for no reason? What was she anxious about?
Why care so much? Why be so preoccupied? It's clearly absurd and incomprehensible.
Moreover, it's highly likely that it will only be self-indulgent sentimentality.
She lowered her head, her face contorted in pain, and moved slowly. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally realized that her pace was remarkably slow. So she patted her face, cheered herself up, and raised her head to try and go around the corner.
For some reason, she suddenly hoped that Sorkov was hiding behind that corner. It seemed like something he would do, punish her for her behavior with such a low-level retaliation, and then act childishly mature, so that she could pretend that nothing had happened.
The things we've been hoping for for so long never happen; this is probably one of the few truths in the world that always holds true. Zhou Zeyu stood nervously at the corner and took a deep breath.
Then it felt like she'd been hit on the head with an egg; the cool, slippery sensation spread down her head, and she suddenly felt a little short of breath.
What is she doing? Is she thinking like a child about things that can't happen, and then hoping for them to happen without any basis?
Zhou Zeyu closed his eyes and suddenly felt that everything was boring.
If everything she wanted could happen, she wouldn't be standing here right now.
At least, you won't have to go through so many disgusting, painful, and nauseating things, and then foolishly hide in this corner, handing over all your initiative and placing all your hopes on some vague and uncertain other person.
This is really hard to imagine.
Zhou Zeyu finally came to terms with reality and took a step forward. Sure enough, there was nothing behind the corner except a large trash can filled with cigarette butts and emitting a disgusting nicotine smell.
"Hello, Sorkov." She stared blankly at the trash can, then found her hesitant stance amusing, and let herself laugh, giving the trash can a light kick as if deflated.
"You smell really bad."
The soft clinking of metal against shoe tips echoed slowly in the air, but was quickly drowned out by the voice of the uninvited guest. Zhou Zeyu had been startled too many times today, and had even developed the skill of remaining expressionless. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and turned to look at the person who had come.
Eriksor shouldn't be that tall, nor would he suddenly get so close to her, revealing such a malicious smile, appearing and disappearing like a ghost. There's probably only one person like him in all of Belgrade.
Zhou Zeyu's nose was only five centimeters away from Solkov's chest. She could even feel her rapid breath hitting his clothes and bouncing back onto her cheek, making her feel hot. Without thinking, she took a step back.
However, Sorkov was faster, reaching out and grabbing her wrist, forcefully pulling her back.
Zhou Zeyu yelled, and with a sudden burst of strength, he managed to break free from his grasp. However, he lost control of his strength and could only watch helplessly as his hand slammed against the wall.
Sorkov groaned in pain a few times, hiding his hands behind his back with lingering fear, and took several steps back, refusing to let the terrified Zhou Zeyu touch his hands.
Zhou Zeyu knew things were going badly. He opened his mouth but couldn't speak, and dared not get any closer to him. He could only raise his hands in front of his chest to indicate that he meant no harm.
Seeing her tense demeanor, as if threatened at gunpoint by special police, Sorkov couldn't maintain his facade of seriousness any longer. His furrowed brows relaxed unconsciously as he chuckled, revealing a genuine smile on his face.
Surprisingly, he doesn't look so much like a fierce and ruthless murderer anymore... Zhou Zeyu muttered to himself.
If she felt a little guilty and confused at first, after being thoroughly mocked for three minutes, her last bit of sympathy vanished. Unable to bear it any longer, she lowered her hands, instead crossing them to her chest, looking accusatory.
"Still laughing? Who told you to grab my hand all the time? You have ulterior motives. Who knows what you're up to?"
Sorkov raised an eyebrow. "Who's up to no good? I think it's you. Thinking you can just lean back and kick over the trash can, increasing the burden on society?"
How could I forget about that! Zhou Zeyu glanced back quickly, then hurriedly moved away from the trash can, feeling guilty, scratching his head and looking around without saying a word.
"Have you laughed enough?" she asked weakly, but of course she didn't get a reply. Judging from his posture, it was as if he had saved up all the laughter in his life and used it all up in one day.
Has he finished laughing yet?!
"I was just wondering why you looked so lifeless. I'm the one who should be angry."
Feeling utterly hopeless? She reflexively touched her face, and it did indeed smell quite bad.
So what! Does having a bad expression justify being ridiculed?
"So what? You weren't hiding in some corner watching me the whole time, were you?" She squinted, gritting her teeth as she slowly approached him.
Sorkov quickly wiped the smile off his face, sensing her undisguised murderous intent. He then straightened his expression and took two or three steps back, barely managing to create some distance between them.
“Don’t make me sound like some kind of stalker,” he said. “I was just curious.”
What was she curious about? Was she curious whether she would catch up, or whether she would be heartbroken because he hadn't waited for her? The more Zhou Zeyu thought about it, the angrier she became. She felt like she had been played by this bastard all along, and she wasn't going to make a fuss anymore.
She rolled her eyes, turned to leave, then suddenly turned back and shouted angrily, "You dare to hold my hand!"
Sorkov's subconscious movement thus awkwardly froze in mid-air. "Don't be angry yet."
"I'm not angry."
"You're angry."
"I don't."
"You have."
"Okay, yeah, I did! I'm so angry!" Zhou Zeyu suddenly burst out, pacing back and forth in place. "I was worried about you. I thought you were in the ICU this morning, so I sped over here in that damn go-kart, and then you inexplicably made sarcastic remarks for a long time. I told you to go and treat your wound, but you wouldn't listen to my advice, and you even dared to leave me behind?!"
She was panting heavily, staring intently at him: "Are you satisfied now?"
Sorkov seemed surprised by her strong reaction, blinked, and looked clearly bewildered.
"I'm sorry." He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly said, "I didn't mean any harm. I was just curious how many meters you can walk in a minute."
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