#31: Scent

Inside the Commander Feng’s office.

“Fighting!? Do you know who you are!?” Commander Feng was truly furious this time, veins bulging, eyes wide with rage.

Lu Zhou’s lips were tightly sealed, silent.

“Speechless now? You were so capable when you were hitting someone! Did the military academy teach you close combat and boxing so you could hit people? And in a disaster zone, with a film crew present too! If this gets filmed and posted online, our entire military camp will be shamed because of you! Your father in Beijing will also be humiliated because of you!”

Lu Zhou stood there without speaking.

His military posture was standard and perfectly straight. He had only slept a few hours in three days, and his eyes were bloodshot, yet his gaze remained unwavering and direct.

“Tell me, why did you fight? Was it because of that photographer?”

At this, Lu Zhou’s brow furrowed.

Lu Zhou had studied at the military academy for three years, then came to this military camp. Commander Feng had watched him grow step by step and knew him inside out.

Seeing his expression shift, he knew his earlier guess was correct.

Although it was understandable for hot-blooded young men like them, far away on the border, to be attracted to a pretty girl – it was only human nature.

But he never expected that the one who would be attracted was Lu Zhou.

“The self-reflection report that photographer submitted last time, I saw it. You wrote it for her, didn’t you?”

Commander Feng had only been suspicious when he first saw the handwriting, but then thought it impossible.

The handwriting, at first glance, didn’t seem like Lu Zhou’s, but the finishing strokes were undeniably his. They say handwriting reflects one’s character, and Lu Zhou’s handwriting was very distinctive, exceptionally good among a group of men, something Commander Feng knew very well.

Lu Zhou nodded: “Yes.”

He admitted it.

“Outrageous!”

Commander Feng suddenly picked up the folder from his desk and hurled it.

He stood perfectly still, not dodging at all. The heavy folder struck him on the forehead, breaking the skin and quickly turning a large area red.

“No wonder you were unwilling when I asked you to spend time with He Can before! What about her isn’t good enough for you? Her family, looks, education – what’s wrong with any of that!?”

Lu Zhou said in a deep voice: “I’m not good enough for her.”

“You, a proud and arrogant boy, and there’s someone you’re not good enough for?” Commander Feng snorted, “But that girl, you need to consider if she’s really suitable for you. Just looking at this fighting incident after only a few days in the military camp, your father wouldn’t even approve.”

Lu Zhou didn’t speak.

For a soldier, fighting outside is a serious disciplinary offense, especially when the other party is a civilian.

In the end, in addition to a warning, he was punished with a twenty-kilometer weighted run.

________________________________________

Shen Yihuan sent Gu Minghui to a nearby hotel.

He had never been beaten like this in his life. He pointed at Shen Yihuan, roaring, “If you keep getting entangled with him, you’ll sooner or later have to worry about your own life.”

She sat on the hotel room sofa, opening the alcohol and cotton she had bought.

She kept her head down, saying nothing.

But she remembered the time when she was back in Beijing, when Lu Zhou took her home.

He had gripped her neck, his gaze vicious, as if he truly meant to strangle her in his arms.

At that time, Shen Yihuan was only afraid for a moment. She trusted Lu Zhou too much and just considered it an accident.

But when she was an observer, watching Lu Zhou’s fists descend repeatedly, his eyes indifferent and calm, his thin lips tightly pressed, she finally felt fear. Observers see clearly.

He was too sick.

She wasn’t even sure if, had she not stopped him then, he would have kept hitting until death.

“I’ll take care of your wound,” Shen Yihuan said.

Gu Minghui: “Did you hear what I said to you?! With his temper, and how much he likes to control you, if you don’t go along with what he wants in the future, have you thought about what he’ll do to you?”

Shen Yihuan pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton onto his wound.

She didn’t hold back, and Gu Minghui cried out in pain.

She pulled her hand back, then suddenly lowered her head and said calmly, “He won’t hit me.”

“...” Gu Minghui glared at her, “Has your brain short-circuited?”

“Possibly.”

“Then go get treatment, don’t jump into a pit of fire,” Gu Minghui rolled his eyes.

Shen Yihuan simply dressed his wound, threw the blood-stained cotton into the trash, went to the bathroom to wash her hands, and came out.

Outside the window, the stars were faint, and dark clouds covered the sky. It looked like it was about to rain.

They had just left the disaster area, and now it was about to rain here again.

Shen Yihuan felt a bit agitated. She pressed her temple with her index finger and said, “Do you remember what Lu Zhou was like in high school?”

“Why would I remember that?”

Shen Yihuan looked up: “Back then, he never lost control.”

And back then, Shen Yihuan was a hundred, a thousand times more playful than now, and her provocations towards Lu Zhou were a hundred, a thousand times more intense.

But he never lost control then.

Why was he losing control so easily now?

Gu Minghui instantly knew what she was trying to say and frowned: “Shen Yihuan, you don’t need to think that way.”

“I do, of course I do,” she closed her eyes, “I’m the one who slowly cultivated his love for me into something twisted and dark, and I turned him into what he is now.”

She knew, of course, that Lu Zhou’s current personality wasn’t entirely her fault.

But she also knew that his increasingly severe obsession and stubbornness were inextricably linked to her.

She couldn’t imagine what Lu Zhou, such a proud and tough person, would look like crying.

But Lu Zhou, in all his composure, told her, “I cried.”

She couldn’t imagine Lu Zhou, during the rescue efforts, saving one disaster victim after another, saving countless lives.

Yet he would also bury his face in her neck, his voice hoarse, saying, “How I wish to die with you.”

She also couldn’t imagine how Lu Zhou, who wouldn’t even call her “Cherry” before, would get such a tattoo on his back.

She remembered Lu Zhou’s smile again, that lonely yet resigned smile.

Lu Zhou had never bowed his head to anyone, except to her.

“Maybe I was really too bad to him before.”

Gu Minghui: “What could you have done wrong?”

Shen Yihuan smiled, stood up: “I’m going back now. You rest well and finish your work. When Ruru also comes, I’ll come find you to play.”

“You might as well stay here. Why go back there?”

Shen Yihuan glanced at him: “I want to go see him.”

________________________________________

It had started raining by the time she reached the military camp.

Shen Yihuan held an umbrella, found Lu Zhou’s dorm, but he wasn’t there. She finally found him on the training ground.

Sandbags were tied to his legs, made heavier by absorbing water. A white T-shirt, soaked through by the rain, clung to his body, outlining his physique.

Rainwater and sweat mixed and gathered on his chin.

He saw Shen Yihuan standing by the edge of the training ground. His speed slowed down, and he changed direction, stopping in front of her.

Shen Yihuan held the umbrella up over his head, but he tilted his head to avoid it: “No need.”

“Is this a punitive run?”

“Yes.”

“How many more laps?”

“Four laps.”

Shen Yihuan frowned slightly. He had only slept a few hours in the past few days, and now he was being punished with a weighted run again. She didn’t know how long he had been running already. Anyone else would have given up by now.

She waited nearby, watching Lu Zhou complete one lap after another, then walk beside her.

“Let’s go.”

He walked ahead.

Through the streetlights, Shen Yihuan saw his back, his white T-shirt soaked and clinging to him, the colors reflected.

It was unclear, like a ball of fire.

She followed Lu Zhou to his dorm.

“I’ll shower first.”

He said, poured Shen Yihuan a glass of water, then walked into the bathroom.

The sound of water gradually lessened. He came out with wet hair, a light brown towel draped over his head, wiping his hair as he walked out, loose casual pants hanging loosely at his waist, and a black shirt.

After running for so long, he had already returned to his normal state after coming out of the bathroom, his face not red, his breath not short.

Shen Yihuan opened her mouth, wanting to explain something, but before she could speak, her phone rang.

She fished her phone out of her bag; it was a black screen, not hers.

Lu Zhou had already picked up.

“Hello,” he said, walking to the window as he answered.

Lu Youju already knew about Lu Zhou’s disciplinary report, and his voice was filled with anger: “I heard you violated military discipline by hitting someone for a woman today?”

Lu Zhou grunted in affirmation.

“Useless!”

He remained silent.

Throughout the call, he hardly spoke, just listened indifferently.

Shen Yihuan heard him say “Commander Lu” and only then realized the person on the other end was his father.

After hanging up, Lu Zhou sat across from Shen Yihuan, pulled out a cigarette, threw the pack on the table, and lit it with a cupped hand.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes hidden behind wisps of pale smoke.

He said in a deep voice: “Looking for me?”

Shen Yihuan pursed her lips: “Today... Gu Minghui came to find me. Ruru will be back in a few days too. I wasn’t going to leave without a word. I just thought you were busy, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

He exhaled a puff of smoke: “Mm.”

Shen Yihuan: “Have you been... losing control like this often lately?”

Lu Zhou looked up, suddenly let out a soft laugh, and said: “Not often, just these last two times.”

Those words stung.

Two times, both after Shen Yihuan reappeared in his life.

It sounded as if he was trying to drive her away.

Shen Yihuan lowered her head, her fingers intertwined, nails digging into her flesh.

Two times.

Once because he mistakenly thought the mark on her neck was a hickey.

Once because she went to find Gu Minghui without telling him, even if it was just to pick him up.

She paused, wanting to know if Lu Zhou still had a chance.

“If I had told you in advance what I was doing today, would you still be so angry?”

Lu Zhou said: “I wouldn’t have let you go.”

“...” She frowned, “Gu Minghui and I are just friends. In high school, I was already good friends with him and Ruru...”

Before she could finish, Lu Zhou interrupted with a sharp scraping sound.

He hooked his index finger, pulling the ashtray on the table towards him, stubbing out his cigarette. Then he suddenly asked: “Do you know why Gu Minghui came to Xinjiang?”

Shen Yihuan was momentarily stunned.

She said: “I think it was for work, right?”

Lu Zhou fell silent.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his index finger repeatedly rubbing the extinguished cigarette butt. His gaze was fixed downwards, on one spot.

He had detected an extremely faint, bitter smell on Gu Minghui, very similar to the gunpowder smell from a weapons manufacturing factory.

One could only vaguely smell it when very close.

The scent was so faint that Lu Zhou couldn’t even be sure if his thoughts were accurate.

If his guess was correct, then did the news he received at the border checkpoint today have a corresponding link?

But how could it be Gu Minghui?

And if so, with Shen Yihuan so close to him, would she be in danger?

He dared not think.

Shen Yihuan watched him from the side, hesitating whether to move closer to him when she suddenly heard him speak.

“Shen Yihuan, don’t overstep.”

She looked up in confusion, seeing his eyes, deep as a pool, devoid of warmth.

She didn’t understand his words, thinking he had discovered her little secret, so she pouted and kept her hands on the sofa.

“I want to see your tattoo,” she said again.

“Just now, outside, when your clothes were wet, I saw it, but I couldn’t see it clearly.”

“Let me see it.”

Lu Zhou slowly narrowed his eyes: “First, promise me you’ll protect yourself and don’t trust the people around you too much.”

She didn’t understand: “Huh?”

It was too late to ask again. Lu Zhou implicitly accepted that she had agreed.

He gripped his collar with his hand, lifted both arms, and easily took off his shirt.

She saw the tattoo on his back.

It was large, covering half of his back. His back muscles flexed and recessed, making the cherry vine appear even more lifelike.

Branches extended from the left, growing upwards and to the right, with tiny green leaves and cherries covering the branches, a translucent red. Lu Zhou’s skin was fair, and the contrast was striking.

Besides that, there were scars, large and small, long and round, leaving many shiny marks on his back.

It was a shocking sight.

Shen Yihuan couldn’t help but reach out, her lips slightly parted, to touch his back.

She couldn’t believe how Lu Zhou could have so many scars on his back, more than a dozen, both large and small.

Emotions welled up quickly.

When the young girl lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, biting her lip and letting out soft sobs, Lu Zhou was caught off guard and momentarily stunned.

He looked down at the top of the young girl’s head.

Shen Yihuan choked out: “A tattoo is one thing, but why would you self-harm... you idiot!”

“...”

Lu Zhou sighed helplessly: “I didn’t self-harm.”

Shen Yihuan raised her head, her eyes red: “Then why are there so many scars?! Don’t think I can’t tell they’re knife wounds... there are so many!”

Lu Zhou: “Someone else did it.”

She wiped away her tears haphazardly, her eyes wide: “Who?”

“Bad people.”

Shen Yihuan opened her mouth, her lips turning downwards. She started crying again, crying comically and earnestly.

“What kind of awful job is this...”

He remained silent, looking down at her. After she cried for two minutes, he raised his hand and gently covered Shen Yihuan’s eyes, wiping away her tears.

He sighed: “Don’t cry.”