Chapter Twenty-Seven: Wang Zheng Weeps!

Bai Bing widened the safe distance between herself and the man lounging on the sofa, sipping red wine, from three meters to five. She watched Wang Zheng warily, always on alert, prepared to dash back to her room at the first hint of any shameful remark from this shameless man.

Seeing Bai Bing move away, Wang Zheng chuckled. He’d always had a way with women; usually, it was men who found him intimidating. Why was this woman so different from all the others?

She really wasn’t suited to be a woman at all.

“There’s no need to keep your distance. I’m actually quite easy to get along with,” Wang Zheng said, glancing at her. The room was dark, but the moonlight and the flashlight in Bai Bing’s hand provided enough illumination.

“I haven’t noticed!” she replied curtly.

“If we don’t get along, maybe you should look into the reason yourself.” Wang Zheng drained his glass and set it down on the coffee table, then stood and headed toward his room. At the door, he stopped and looked at Bai Bing, whose face was tense with vigilance. He sighed, “There are plenty of good men in the world. Why cling to me instead of finding someone who suits you? Ah, a man as outstanding as me, my brilliance can’t be hidden no matter where I go!”

With that, Wang Zheng lifted his arms high to the beam of Bai Bing’s flashlight and declared, “Let the sacred light shine upon me!”

Click. Bai Bing switched off the flashlight, disgusted, and retreated to her room. Wang Zheng wore a triumphant smile—until a voice suddenly sounded from Bai Bing’s room:

“You must apologize to me, or you’ll regret it!”

Regret it? Am I supposed to be scared?

Wang Zheng ignored Bai Bing’s threat. Apologize? Not a chance! He returned to his room and slammed the door shut, then sprang sideways onto his bed with a graceful leap.

“Ah!” Wang Zheng screamed, scrambling to his feet and rubbing his back frantically. He lifted the blanket and peered cautiously at the bed, where dozens of gleaming thumbtacks glittered menacingly—he counted about thirty.

Nothing is more beautiful than sunset’s glow, and nothing more poisonous than a woman’s heart!

“Bai Bing, you—you damned fiend!”

“Justice prevails, this is your retribution!”

…

The next morning, Wang Zheng rose early and, unlike his usual casual attire, donned the black leisure suit Bai Bing had ‘bought’ for him days ago, complete with a black shirt—looking sharp and stylish.

Bai Bing emerged from her room in pink pajamas. The previous night’s excitement from successfully pranking Wang Zheng had kept her awake late. She paused, rubbing her dry eyes, when she saw Wang Zheng making a phone call in the living room. She realized she wasn’t dreaming.

Whoosh. Bai Bing darted back to her room. One minute later, she stepped out fully dressed.

“Where are you going? Looking for a job?” she asked, puzzled and ready to sabotage his job search.

Wang Zheng hung up the phone and turned to Bai Bing. “Are you planning to follow me today?”

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Upon hearing Wang Zheng’s words, Bai Bing retreated again, maintaining her five-meter buffer, but nodded firmly.

“Mm.”

“I don’t want to argue with you today. If you want to follow, then follow—but don’t speak, or you’ll regret being so chatty.” With that, Wang Zheng left the room.

Bai Bing hesitated, sensing something different about Wang Zheng today. Watching him leave, she hurried after him, intent on finding out what was going on.

When Wang Zheng exited the neighborhood, the familiar Beetle was waiting at the gate, but this time Su Xue was behind the wheel; Chu Jun wasn’t inside. Wang Zheng nodded at Su Xue, then bought two bottles of Erguotou from a nearby shop before getting in the car, Bai Bing trailing behind like a shadow.

“Brother, she…” Su Xue glanced at Bai Bing with a slight frown, clearly displeased.

“Don’t mind her. Let’s go,” Wang Zheng said, ignoring Bai Bing.

“I—”

“Silence!” Bai Bing had just begun to speak when Wang Zheng cut her off, his tone harsh, leaving her stunned.

What was going on? She hadn’t upset him this morning. Was he still angry about last night? How petty! Bai Bing was puzzled—both Wang Zheng and Su Xue seemed different today. Even lively Su Xue was unusually quiet and solemn.

The car left the city, the highway giving way to a passable road, then to a rough dirt track. Outside, the buildings dwindled, replaced by fields and forests. Bai Bing suddenly felt as if she were being trafficked.

The road became impassable for the Beetle, so Wang Zheng and the others got out.

Bai Bing thought they’d reached their destination, but when she saw Wang Zheng and Su Xue carrying bags into the mountain, a sense of helplessness washed over her. She glanced at her high heels—could she climb a mountain in these? Watching Wang Zheng disappear ahead, Bai Bing gritted her teeth and decided to follow.

The winding mountain path was uneven, and branches scratched her arms, leaving a burning sensation. She had no idea how long they’d walked before stopping at a hillside—a clearing with no trees, waist-high wild grass, and fallen leaves, giving the place a bleak, desolate feel.

Wang Zheng and Su Xue set down their bags and began clearing away grass and dead leaves, while Bai Bing stood awkwardly aside. One of her heels was broken, and her legs and arms bore dozens of red scratches from the hike.

“Come down,” Wang Zheng called calmly.

“Huh?” Bai Bing was confused.

“I said come down, didn’t you hear?” Su Xue snapped, her tone full of annoyance.

Though puzzled, Bai Bing had learned her lesson; she carefully jumped down from the slope and walked behind Wang Zheng.

Suddenly, Bai Bing froze, staring ahead. From this angle, she could see that the spot where she’d stood was not just a mound—it was a grave.

She looked at Wang Zheng and Su Xue, who were now brushing away dead leaves, revealing a large stone slab with countless engraved lines—words.

The stone was inscribed with many small characters.

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At last, Bai Bing understood why Wang Zheng and Su Xue were so solemn today.

Wang Zheng placed the two bottles of Erguotou before the tombstone, while Su Xue scattered a large bag of flower petals over the grave.

With a thud, Wang Zheng and Su Xue knelt, each raising burning incense above their heads.

“Brothers and sisters, it’s Wang Zheng. I’ve returned from Africa to see you!” Wang Zheng called out, his voice resolute yet tinged with sorrow. He bowed three times, his forehead striking the stone and breaking the skin, blood trickling down his face. His expression was grave, eyes filled with endless sadness.

Bai Bing read the names on the stone—thirteen relatives, all lost on missions, their bodies never recovered. This grave was built by Su Xue’s own hands to honor them; each time one died, a name was carved into the stone. Now there were thirteen, and besides the squad leader, only three were still alive.

Wang Zheng and Su Xue knelt in silence, unmoving, as if time itself had stopped. Only the incense burning in their hands marked the passage of time.

The sky remained overcast, as though mourning with them. The breeze rustled the grass and leaves, adding a somber melody to the scene.

After twenty minutes, when the incense had burned out, Su Xue struggled to rise, her knees numb from kneeling so long. Wang Zheng simply sat cross-legged, pouring Erguotou into a small cup.

“Brothers and sisters, your little brother salutes you!” Wang Zheng said, pouring the liquor onto the ground. As he gazed at the familiar names, their faces may have become blurred in his memory, but fragments of those days flickered in his mind, elusive yet unforgettable.

Wang Zheng closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. Suddenly, he grabbed the bottle and drank deeply, gulp after gulp.

Watching him drink, Bai Bing realized this was his way of mourning—using alcohol to honor his lost loved ones, and to numb his own heart.

“A man’s tears do not flow easily; it is only when sorrow truly strikes.” As Bai Bing watched Wang Zheng drink and weep, a wave of bittersweet emotion swept over her.

She had worked in national security for years, but had never found a true friend. Apart from following the director’s orders, she rarely interacted with others. Everyone in the organization was the same, scheming against each other, always looking for a way to climb higher—even their smiles were false.

But these people—why were they like family? How could their bonds be so deep, so powerful? This feeling seemed capable of moving mountains and touching the heavens. Wang Zheng did not say much, but his tears explained everything.

Wang Zheng… was crying.

The bravest among all tribes wept; Africa’s strongest man wept.

This man, who laughed when facing lions on the savannah, tigers in the jungle, and terrorists with machine guns on airplanes, was crying today.

Why?

Bai Bing didn’t understand, but whatever this feeling was, it moved her deeply. She wanted to comfort Wang Zheng, but found herself on the verge of tears as well.

“Brothers and sisters, rest assured, I will live well!” Wang Zheng said through tears and laughter, his eyes reflecting genuine emotion, forthrightness, and a world-weary clarity. He tossed aside the empty bottle and opened another.

A cup of strong liquor for the departed, mourning with gentle tears. Their laughter and voices linger still; the winds and rains of remembrance break the heart.

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