Chapter 45 Huo Zheng's Warning
Saturday afternoon, Xishan shooting range.
This is a dual-use military and civilian shooting training base, a quiet and heavily guarded environment. Huo Zheng has a special pass here and occasionally comes to practice shooting. Today, he also invited Huo Yanli.
"Try it?" Huo Zheng handed Huo Yanli a Type 92 pistol, his movements as practiced as handing over a glass of water.
Huo Yanli accepted it. He also knew how to shoot—a necessary skill for many in their circle, both for self-defense and as a form of recreation. But he rarely came to the shooting range, preferring to practice at private clubs.
Put on noise-canceling headphones, raise your gun, aim, and pull the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots, two bullseyes and one 9.
"Not bad." Huo Zheng nodded as he watched from the side. "Steady hand."
Huo Yanli lowered his gun and took off his headset. The shooting range was quiet, with only the occasional gunshots in the distance and the rustling of the wind through the trees.
"My uncle called me here today, not just for shooting practice, right?" he asked.
Huo Zheng glanced at him, said nothing, but picked up a gun himself, loaded it, aimed, and fired.
The movements were swift and decisive, executed in one smooth motion. All three shots were bullseyes, and the bullet holes almost overlapped.
This is true professionalism.
Huo Zheng put down his gun, took off his headphones, and walked to the nearby rest area to sit down. Huo Yanli followed him.
The two sat on a bench, facing the rolling peaks of the Western Hills. The April afternoon sun was lovely, warming them comfortably.
"I heard you've been investigating Zhiyi lately?" Huo Zheng asked bluntly.
Huo Yanli paused for a moment, but did not deny it: "Yes."
"What did you find?"
Huo Yanli was silent for a few seconds: "Her parents' matter. Her... experiences abroad."
Huo Zheng nodded, took out a cigarette case from his pocket, lit one, and the smoke rose slowly in the sunlight.
"Did you know she had a scar on her back?" he asked.
Huo Yanli's heart skipped a beat: "I don't know. My assistant couldn't find anything."
“It’s normal that we can’t find it.” Huo Zheng exhaled a smoke ring. “That’s internal information, it’s been sealed. I only found out by chance while on a mission.”
He paused, looked at Huo Yanli, and there was something complicated in his eyes: "Before, in Syria, it wasn't just that time that I met her."
Huo Yanli clenched his fist.
“Earlier, she was doing community research in a border town.” Huo Zheng’s voice was calm, but every word was like a stone hitting water. “That town was later bombed. The school she was in was hit directly.”
Huo Yanli's breath caught in his throat.
"Half of the teaching building collapsed," Huo Zheng continued, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains, as if he could see the scene filled with smoke. "She could have run; she was already at the door. But when she heard children crying inside, she turned back."
I don’t know how long she dug through the rubble. I only know that when the rescue team arrived, her hands were covered in blood, and a piece of shrapnel was embedded in her back, but she was holding two children in her arms—both alive.
Huo Zheng flicked his cigarette ash: "That shrapnel was only two centimeters from her spine. If it had been any more off, she might not be able to stand up now."
Huo Yanli was speechless. He felt a tightness in his throat and a blockage in his chest.
“The local medical conditions are very poor, and we ran out of anesthesia.” Huo Zheng’s voice lowered. “She was conscious during the surgery. A field doctor used the most rudimentary tools to remove the shrapnel and then stitched her up.”
"Later, our people transferred her out and sent her back to China for treatment." Huo Zheng looked at Huo Yanli. "She was in a coma for two days, and the first thing she asked when she woke up was, 'Where are the children?'"
"Knowing that the children had all survived, she smiled and said, 'That's good.' Then she went back to sleep."
Huo Zheng stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him with a heavy motion.
“Yanli,” he looked at Huo Yanli, his eyes sharp as knives, “I’ve seen many people. On the battlefield, in life-or-death situations. Some people break down, some run away, and some become numb.”
"But there aren't many like her—who suffered such serious injuries, underwent surgery while conscious, and whose first question upon waking was to others."
He paused, then said, word by word, "You know, during the surgery, she bit her lips so hard they bled to keep from screaming. But she didn't shed a single tear the entire time."
Huo Yanli closed his eyes. The image of Song Zhiyi's perpetually serene face floated into his mind. He remembered the gentle tone of her voice, the straight back she walked, the focused expression on her face when administering acupuncture…
It turns out that such a past was hidden beneath that calm.
That straight back was almost pierced by shrapnel.
That focused gaze was once directed at others even when on the brink of life and death.
“After she returned to China, she didn’t mention this to anyone,” Huo Zheng said. “Even the old man didn’t know the details. She continued to work and live as usual, as if nothing had happened.”
"But I know that scar will stay with her for the rest of her life. It will hurt when it's cloudy or rainy, it will hurt when she's tired, and maybe... seeing certain scenes will also hurt her heart."
Huo Zheng stood up, walked to the edge of the shooting range, and looked at the target paper in the distance. The wind blew the corner of his clothes, and his back was straight but with a hint of heaviness.
“Yanli,” he said without turning around, his voice muffled in the wind, “I called you here today not to tell you how great or difficult her life was.”
"I want to tell you what kind of person you married."
"He is not one of those socialites or wealthy women, nor one of those women who want to climb the social ladder by marrying into the Huo family. He is someone who has truly experienced life and death and has seen the darkest and most glorious side of humanity."
"She is a person who has others in her heart, a sense of responsibility, and something more important than her own life."
Huo Zheng turned around and looked at Huo Yanli, his eyes filled with a sorrowful clarity: "And what did you give her?"
"A five-year contract. 100,000 yuan a month, money she doesn't need at all. And... indifference and alienation."
Huo Yanli opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that he couldn't utter a single word.
Huo Zheng walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. The force wasn't strong, but it made Huo Yanli feel a heavy pressure.
“I’m not trying to blame you,” Huo Zheng said. “I know why you got married. I also understand the agreement between you.”
"But I just feel... it's a pity."
He withdrew his hand and sighed: "You probably don't realize what kind of person you've underestimated."
"And this person is now your legal wife."
After Huo Zheng finished speaking, he picked up his coat and said, "I'm leaving now. You... think about it yourself."
He turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the empty shooting range before fading into the distance.
Huo Yanli sat alone on a bench, looking at the target paper in the distance.
The sunlight was warm, but he couldn't feel the temperature.
Huo Zheng's words echoed repeatedly in my mind:
"The first thing she asked when she woke up was, 'Where are the children?'"
"During the surgery, she bit her lips so hard they bled in order not to scream."
"What kind of person did you marry?"
"You underestimated what kind of person you are."
Every word was like a needle piercing his heart.
It doesn't hurt, but it's sharp.
It reminded him how ridiculous, how... pathetic, his indifference and estrangement towards her over the past two years had been.
He thought he was giving alms—giving her the title of "Mrs. Huo" and a monthly allowance of 100,000.
Only now do I realize that the one who truly received charity was himself.
They were given an opportunity to rediscover the world and human nature.
And he almost missed it.
Huo Yanli stood up, walked to the edge of the shooting range, and picked up the gun he had just used.
Load, raise the gun, aim.
But this time, his hands were shaking.
Song Zhiyi's face appeared before my eyes.
Calm, clear eyes that never reveal any emotion.
He wanted to know how much he hadn't seen was hidden deep within those eyes.
I wonder if she feels pain when that scar flares up.
I wonder if she feels sad when she thinks of her parents.
I want to know what a person is thinking when they go through life-or-death moments.
He wondered if it was too late for him to start wanting to understand her.
Bang!
A shot rang out.
Missed the target.
Huo Yanli lowered his gun and took off his earpiece.
There was complete silence around me.
But inside, it felt as if something had collapsed.
Then, on the ruins, something new began to quietly grow.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com