Chapter 59 — You're Delusional!

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But Yang Huaijun was not discouraged in the least. Who was that man, after all? If a simple little test like that could have exposed him, then Yang Huaijun would have been a fool for treating him as something close to a god all these years.

"I say, Miss Song — you being a bit slow is one thing, but why is your captain jumping at every shadow too?" Since Yang Huaijun had already caught sight of his face, Wei Zhao saw no point in dodging any longer, and simply lifted his head. "Ah, it looks like you people are under far too much pressure on the job. You ought to get yourselves some psychological therapy and take the edge off."

"Why won't you admit it?" Yang Huaijun paid no attention whatsoever to his evasions. Seizing him by both shoulders in a fever of excitement, he shook him hard. "I'm Hound! Don't you recognize me?"

Qiu Lingshan had been about to fire back at Wei Zhao, but when she suddenly heard Yang Huaijun call himself "Hound," her eyes went wide. What on earth was all this? Could Captain Yang really be under so much pressure that he had started raving?

"Ah, you see that? I told you, Miss Song — the man's suffering from a serious delusion. He's even imagined himself into an animal." Wei Zhao shook his head. "And the moment he clapped eyes on me, he made an animal out of me too..."

Qiu Lingshan's face was instantly streaked with black lines. Captain Yang had always cut the figure of a steady, clear-headed man — what had gotten into him today?

If there had been any doubt before, Yang Huaijun was now one hundred percent certain: the man before him was the one he had been looking for. Those hard years, comrades who had shared every suffering together — how could a bond forged under such circumstances ever lead him to mistake the man?

The tone of Wei Zhao's speech just now, and that peculiar absurdist streak of his, only made Yang Huaijun more certain that this was him. Then all at once a thought flashed through his mind: could it be that he was on some special assignment and could not reveal his identity?

Yes. Very likely. When he recalled the level of the missions the men of his unit had once carried out, Wei Zhao's present behavior was nothing to be surprised at.

"Song, leave him to me. I'll handle this case myself." Without another word, Yang Huaijun seized Wei Zhao's arm, as if afraid the man might bolt.

"Ah... all right, then..." Qiu Lingshan could not understand why Yang Huaijun should take such an interest in Wei Zhao's affairs, or why he had behaved so strangely — but where Yang Huaijun's orders were concerned, obedience had long since become a habit with her.

Yang Huaijun had no time for further pleasantries with Qiu Lingshan. Taking Wei Zhao by the hand, he hurried off toward the office building. Wei Zhao followed behind him with a bitter smile. It seemed this tribulation was not to be dodged after all.

Bang. The office door slammed shut and was firmly bolted from the inside — though Yang Huaijun knew perfectly well that for that man, even a prison cell would have failed to hold him.

Wei Zhao, for his part, was thoroughly brazen about the whole thing, planting himself straight down on the sofa in Yang Huaijun's office. "Captain Yang, is it? What exactly is it you want? You know, in broad daylight, the two of us big men shut up together in an office... if word gets out... hey, I'm still a high school student, you know..."

"Enough. There's no one else here, and my office is soundproofed well enough. You know my nickname is Hunting Dog — which means my skills in surveillance and counter-surveillance are excellent. No one could plant a bug in here and slip it past my eyes." Yang Huaijun turned around, his gaze fixed hard on Wei Zhao, and spoke word by word.

"No way? You really want to do something with me?" Wei Zhao widened his eyes in perfect innocence.

"Stop pretending, Arno. You know what I'm talking about." Yang Huaijun's face was grave.

"Sorry, you've got the wrong man. I'm not any Arno, and I don't know what you're talking about." Wei Zhao shrugged.

"I don't mistake people." Yang Huaijun's expression turned agitated in an instant; he sprang to Wei Zhao's side and shook him hard by the shoulders. "Eagle, are you running from something? Why won't you admit who you are?"

Wei Zhao was somewhat blank. Was he — was he really running from something? Those years of gunfire and smoke, that absolute trust between comrades... and that peerlessly beautiful face, those sorrowful, shattered eyes... Wei Zhao's heart gave a violent spasm.

"Xiao Ning has been looking for you all these years." Yang Huaijun's face had begun to twist; Wei Zhao's denial was pushing his emotions toward something abnormal.

"Xiao Ning... who's that?" Wei Zhao felt as though his heart had been pricked with a needle, though on the surface he kept that same placid look.

"You—" Yang Huaijun's eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Wei Zhao. "You want to run away from it, is that it? You'll ruin her whole life."

Suddenly Yang Huaijun clutched at his chest; on his forehead beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down like rain, his whole face went ashen and contorted, and his body trembled without stopping...

"What's wrong with you?" Wei Zhao was startled at once. Yes — he could deny everything else, but this former comrade-in-arms, a man to whom he had once been able to entrust his own life — Wei Zhao could not, by any means, stand by and do nothing.

With difficulty Yang Huaijun fished a bottle of medicine from his jacket pocket, opened it with trembling hands, took out a pill and held it under his tongue. After a moment his color eased a little, though he was still gulping for breath.

Wei Zhao glanced at the label on the bottle and saw that it was an imported, highly potent sedative and analgesic. His face changed at once. "Why are you taking this kind of medicine?"

Wei Zhao knew Yang Huaijun's constitution better than anyone: the man was as sturdy as an ox. There was no way he could be suffering from some hidden illness — and yet now...

"You... finally admit it?" Yang Huaijun's face was still deathly pale, but the corner of his mouth curved into a long-absent smile.

"Never mind all that — what's happened to your health?" Wei Zhao had no attention to spare for denials now. He helped Yang Huaijun down onto the sofa.

"I'm not that delicate. I'm fine." Yang Huaijun grinned, and it was plain to see that he was genuinely happy. "Eagle, I knew I hadn't mistaken you. These past two years you've grown taller, and the edge in your eyes is gone — you've become much more reserved — but I still recognized you."

"All right, I admit it, that's me. But first tell me — what exactly happened to you? And why did you retire? The organization you belonged to was a lifetime appointment, wasn't it?" Wei Zhao truly could not imagine what had befallen Yang Huaijun in these past two years.

Outwardly he still looked robust, but Wei Zhao detected a trace of sickness in his face. Old Man Wei had been the famous old miracle doctor of the village for miles around, and Wei Zhao had inherited his true medical skill.

"I retired." Yang Huaijun smiled. "Because I was wounded and could no longer take on that kind of high-risk mission, so I was transferred out to a local police station."

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