Chapter 70: Liu Kuo: So That Zhou Zhuoyuan Will Remember Him for Life

Zhou Zhuoyuan ignored Liu Kuo’s advice. He lay on his side on the ground, curling into a tight ball. Lin Boxu had always said he was a neat freak, but Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t see it that way. It was best to stay clean when he could, but when he couldn’t, he could rest just fine with his head pillowed on the filthy cement.

He curled up like that, dust clinging to his sweat-streaked face in a wretched, pitiful sight.

Liu Kuo sat beside him, watching as he slowly closed his eyes. It took a long time before he fell asleep, his brows tightly furrowed, his lower lip caught hard between his teeth.

After a while, Zhou Zhuoyuan relaxed his bite. His breathing gradually evened out, and only then did the tension ease from Liu Kuo’s chest. He had been truly terrified that Zhou Zhuoyuan would end up like before—vomiting blood and passing out on the spot. He could barely protect himself right now; if Zhou Zhuoyuan couldn’t hold on, all he could do was beg the kidnappers for mercy.

Before the sky grew fully dark, Zhou Zhuoyuan stirred and woke. Wind whistled through the cracks in the door, and he’d broken out in a cold sweat. The gentle spring breeze carried only chill, making him shiver uncontrollably.

Liu Kuo pressed close to him, shielding him from the draft as best he could. “Feeling any better?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan slowly shifted to lean against the wall. He knew he wasn’t—he still felt awful. The stomach pain had eased a little, but his head throbbed, and his throat was sore and itchy, the telltale signs of a fever. Still, he answered Liu Kuo calmly, “I’m okay.”

It wasn’t until evening, when the kidnappers came to deliver their meal, that a blinding flashlight beam swept across Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face.

The kidnapper’s heart sank. He rushed over, set down the water and bread, and pressed a hand to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s forehead, then his neck. It was scorching hot.

Whether it was the police and Zhou Family’s relentless pursuit or problems with their backup on the receiving end, they were temporarily pinned down in this factory. They hadn’t made a move all day.

And now their hostage was having problems too.

A flicker of viciousness entered the kidnapper’s eyes. Their employer’s demands had brought them nothing but trouble, and they might very well get taken down here. The realization sparked a murderous impulse toward Zhou Zhuoyuan.

Zhou Zhuoyuan sensed it. He cracked his eyes open to meet the kidnapper’s gaze, saying nothing as he awaited judgment. If he died, the kidnappers would have only Liu Kuo left as a hostage. Liu Kuo would be safe for the time being—maybe long enough for rescue to arrive.

Perhaps from the tension, Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest. He turned his head away and broke into violent coughs.

The kidnapper tamped down his killing intent and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over him. “I’ll check the car for medicine.”

Once the kidnapper was gone, Liu Kuo scooted closer in a panic. “You okay?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan shook his head amid coughs. “No—cough cough… problem…”

Liu Kuo had actually believed his lies earlier. “You little liar! You’ve been a liar since we were kids! You even lied to the teacher, saying my friend stole your money—when he was just holding it for you!”

The kidnapper kicked the door. “What’re you yapping about?”

He returned with a strip of capsules and roughly pried two out, shoving them into Zhou Zhuoyuan’s mouth. “Swallow.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan still wanted to cough—and he felt like vomiting too—but this was life-saving medicine. He tilted his head back slightly, the pale column of his throat tensing with prominent veins as he forced the capsules down.

The kidnapper snatched back his jacket and tossed down a blanket, issuing a cold threat to Liu Kuo. “Make another peep, and I’ll put a bullet in you right now.”

Liu Kuo’s temper flared—he wanted to snap back—but then Zhou Zhuoyuan’s coughing started up again, ragged as if he were hacking up a lung.

He fell silent, glaring daggers at the kidnapper’s retreating back.

~~~

After discarding the locator, the kidnappers quickly shook off the police. They controlled traffic around nearby cities, leaving the authorities to scour surveillance footage for any trace.

Pei He plugged in Zhou Zhuoyuan’s phone to charge and tapped open WeChat first. The top chat was with him, the profile pic labeled “Kind Rival.”

Rival, my ass—you stubborn jackass.

Behind the red exclamation mark was the SOS message Zhou Zhuoyuan had tried to send him. Pei He’s heart clenched in agony. Zhou Zhuoyuan had reached out to him for help—it was just that he hadn’t gotten it in time. He was too late.

The police car sped along, sirens blaring. Pei He forced himself to stay calm amid the noise and clicked into the multimedia message from Zhou Zhuoyuan’s SOS, playing the two videos.

No wonder Zhou Zhuoyuan had fallen for it—even Pei He had watched them several times before confirming they were fakes.

His nails dug into his palms. He forwarded the sender details and videos to the police and Zhou Zhuoli. It was a long shot that anything useful could be pulled from them, but he needed something to occupy himself.

That way, when he finally saw Zhou Zhuoyuan, he could keep his composure and coax him back to rights, just like always.

~~~

Zhou Zhuoyuan coughed and laughed. “You’re—cough cough—pretty—cough—loyal…”

Liu Kuo couldn’t fathom how he could laugh in this state. “Don’t talk. I’ll unwrap the bread for you—eat something first.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan stopped him. “No, cough cough, I can’t eat any more…”

He was afraid that if he ate anything else, he’d throw up the capsule along with it.

Liu Kuo was so anxious he started to call for the kidnappers, but before he could open his mouth, a weight settled on his shoulder. Zhou Zhuoyuan’s soft, damp hair brushed against his cheek, freezing Liu Kuo in place. Then came Zhou Zhuoyuan’s lowered whisper: “There’s a water pipe in the left corner, cough cough. Do you have the strength, cough cough, to climb up, cough cough, and open the window?”

Liu Kuo took a look around. “I think I can, but I’m tied up right now. And what about you?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t answer. His stomach twisted in pain again, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Liu Kuo struggled fiercely with his bound hands, desperate to pull him close, but he only succeeded in rubbing his wrists raw in several places.

“Don’t move…”

With those words, Zhou Zhuoyuan had no more strength to speak. It was a long while before he recovered somewhat as night fell completely. “Tomorrow night. Wait until tomorrow.”

If the Zhou family could come ransom him tomorrow, that would be ideal.

Zhou Zhuoyuan slowly lifted his head from Liu Kuo’s shoulder. “Call the kidnappers in. Have them feed us something to eat…”

~~~

Zhou Zhuoli’s eyes were threaded with blood; he hadn’t slept for two nights. It wasn’t until noon on the third day that the kidnappers finally answered his call.

He didn’t wait for them to speak. “What do you want? Cash? Shares? The lives of the Zhou family members?”

The raspy male voice came through. “Have your people leave.”

Zhou Zhuoli had never dealt with kidnappers like these before—impossible to reason with, just like Zhou Zhuoyuan. “What the hell do you want?! How much did they pay you?! I’ll double it! Zhuoyuan isn’t even an adult yet. He didn’t grow up in the Zhou family! If it’s revenge, come for me. Let him go!”

The kidnapper repeated, “Have your people leave.”

The line went dead. Zhou Zhuoli stared at his phone, knuckles white.

They had been locked in a standoff with the kidnappers since dawn. These desperate criminals wanted nothing material, but if his people really pulled back, would Zhou Zhuoyuan have any chance of survival? And if they stayed, what if the kidnappers panicked and killed their hostage?

Zhou Zhuoli could find no way to break the impasse. Every passing minute was agony.

The situation was far thornier than he had imagined. All his prior confidence and cool-headedness lay in ruins before he had even set out.

~~~

Perhaps fearing Zhou Zhuoyuan might actually die, the kidnappers watched him finish every subsequent meal before leaving. After dinner, they forced two more capsules on him.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s spirits seemed much improved from the day before. Leaning against the wall, he chatted with Liu Kuo. “I wasn’t lying. Your little brother was.”

Liu Kuo hadn’t expected him to still hold onto that. “Why should I believe you? Yesterday you were the one deceiving me, saying you were fine, no big deal.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan pursed his lips. He really was the boy who cried wolf, always lying—it served him right if the wolf devoured him.

Liu Kuo couldn’t bear that look in his eyes. He itched to scratch his head, panic creeping into his voice. “I believe you, I believe you. I was just messing around. I knew right away you weren’t like that. I was young and stupid back then. Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slashed your backpack. My bad.”

At this long-overdue apology, Zhou Zhuoyuan’s eyes abruptly reddened. Steel entering his gaze, he fished a lighter—swiped from a kidnapper’s pocket—from beneath the flaking wall plaster and passed it to Liu Kuo. “Burn through my ropes first.”

Once freed, Liu Kuo crept up the water pipe and shoved the window open. The kidnappers were understaffed, and no one was watching that spot.

He slid back down and huddled with Zhou Zhuoyuan behind the door.

Half an hour passed. The kidnapper entered for the routine check and spotted the wide-open window and charred ropes.

The two held their breath until the footsteps receded. Then they slipped out. Zhou Zhuoyuan pointed. “Run that way. We split up—smaller targets.”

Liu Kuo bolted without a second thought. After a stretch, he realized no one was pursuing him.

He skidded to a halt, realization dawning. Split up? Zhou Zhuoyuan knew he was the slower runner—he was drawing off the pursuers!

Liu Kuo’s face contorted. He whipped around and raced back toward Zhou Zhuoyuan.

Sure enough, when he was just dozens of meters away, gunshots cracked behind him.

Zhou Zhuoyuan was faster than Liu Kuo had thought, but not by much. Two bullets whistled past his calf.

Liu Kuo’s heart lurched.

In the distance, red-and-blue lights pierced the dense, shadowy woods. Sirens and footsteps rent the night’s silence.

Elation surged through Liu Kuo—rescue was here. But the next instant, his sharp eyesight and shooter-game instincts locked onto the kidnapper’s gun sight.

It was trained on Zhou Zhuoyuan’s heart.

Liu Kuo had no idea what impulse drove him to make that choice. Perhaps it wasn’t any conscious thought at all—he simply couldn’t bear the idea of watching Zhou Zhuoyuan collapse right in front of him, vomiting blood, his face ashen white and utterly still.

He threw himself over Zhou Zhuoyuan, and the bullets tore into his flesh. One, maybe two.

He might be dying.

Zhou Zhuoyuan tried to hoist him onto his back, but he seemed to lack the strength. He managed to push himself up just a fraction before crashing back to the ground.

Liu Kuo wanted to tell him to forget about it and run, but when he opened his mouth, blood flooded out.

Thankfully, the police arrived swiftly.

In the instant before they pried him away from Zhou Zhuoyuan’s body and loaded him onto the stretcher, a fierce wave of reluctance surged through Liu Kuo’s heart.

He was dying for Zhou Zhuoyuan’s sake. Zhou Zhuoyuan might mourn him for a little while, but he’d forget him soon enough. After all, Liu Kuo was just the street punk who’d bullied him back in the day, whose conscience finally kicked in at the end to do one good deed.

He didn’t want that. Not at all.

Drawing in a deep breath, Liu Kuo leaned close to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s ear and whispered, “Don’t… be… sad…”

He could have said he was cursed with bad luck, or that it was all Zhou Zhuoyuan’s fault. But no—he chose to say don’t be sad.

He wanted Zhou Zhuoyuan to remember him for the rest of his life.

To never forget that Liu Kuo had died saving him.