EOD Chapter42

Lu Zhao’s alcohol tolerance had always been poor, so he rarely drank under normal circumstances; yesterday was a complete accident where everything just collided at once.

All through the next day, Zhou Zefeng had behaved as if it were just any ordinary day, sharing bits of his life and random, strange, or cute things he came across. Lu Zhao, on the other hand, spent the entire day waiting in a state of anxious unease, but Zhou Zefeng never brought up anything else.

Maybe he hasn’t noticed yet, Lu Zhao thought to himself.

He had no idea what petty schemes Zhou Zefeng was harboring until he woke up the following morning with a splitting headache. Opening his phone to check his unread notifications, he finally saw the message Zhou Zefeng had sent the day before.

What kind of relationship did they have now? Was Zhou Zefeng seriously still unclearing about that?

Lu Zhao let out a soft sigh before turning his head to look at Zhou Zefeng, who was still sleeping soundly beside him. “Idiot.”

To his surprise, Zhou Zefeng’s eyelids suddenly twitched. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times, and finally managed to focus on Lu Zhao’s face. Looking a bit dazed, he mumbled, “I think I just dreamed that someone was insulting me.”

“Dreams are always the opposite,” Lu Zhao smiled slightly. “What time do your classes start today?”

“I don’t have classes this morning. I was supposed to go to my usual routine, but I took some time off. I have a bunch of accrued leave that I haven’t used yet.” Zhou Zefeng reached out to pull Lu Zhao into his arms to hold him. His voice already carried an underlying hint of desire. “You left so quickly yesterday morning, I didn’t even get to…”

“I really am reaching my limit.”

“……” Zhou Zefeng looked utterly speechless. “You scumbag. Give me back the cute Lu Zhao from last night.”

Lu Zhao slapped away Zhou Zefeng’s hands, which were wandering blindly all over his body, and said, “Did you do something behind my back last night that you should be sorry for?”

“Did I?”

“Didn’t you?” Lu Zhao leaned in close to Zhou Zefeng, blowing gently into his ear, his tone dropping into a dangerous register. “Wifey?”

Zhou Zefeng’s face instantly went dark. His voice carrying a mix of irritation and amusement, he shot back, “That is definitely not what you were calling me last night.”

“So, you admit it? Just wait until I get back tonight to deal with you.” Lu Zhao patted Zhou Zefeng’s cheek and climbed out of bed. Zhou Zefeng reached out to pull him back, but Lu Zhao caught him by the jaw instead. “I don’t have time to bicker with you; I have to go to work. Be a good boy and wait for me at home, wifey.”

Watching Lu Zhao’s retreating figure, Zhou Zefeng nearly coughed up a pint of blood from sheer frustration.

Over breakfast, Lu Zhao casually mentioned that his backside had been aching all day yesterday, and that he would probably be fidgeting uncomfortably at the hospital today too. Seizing the opportunity to push his luck, Zhou Zefeng suggested that Lu Zhao should just skip work, only to receive a sharp glare.

“If I don’t make money, how am I supposed to support my wifey?” Lu Zhao countered.

Zhou Zefeng nearly crushed the glass of milk in his hand as he was choked into absolute silence.

He had a strong feeling that after successfully cornering Lu Zhao this once, pulling it off again would be nearly impossible, and that a grudge-holding Lu Zhao would keep bringing up this incident to get back at him again and again.

Just before Lu Zhao left, Zhou Zefeng finally remembered the question that had been puzzling him since yesterday. “What does that key you gave me unlock?”

Lu Zhao looked deeply mysterious. “I’m not telling you.”

Once Lu Zhao was gone, Zhou Zefeng began exploring on his own initiative. Every room in Lu Zhao’s home was wide open, except for a small, locked door inside the study.

Zhou Zefeng inserted the key Lu Zhao had given him into the slot. Sure enough, it turned.

His heart rate suddenly spiked. Gripping the key, he pushed the door open. With a soft click, it swung inward to reveal a pitch-black interior. Zhou Zefeng fumbled along the wall until he found the switch, and the light flickered on.

Right in the center of the not-so-spacious room stood a black grand piano.

Zhou Zefeng ran his fingers over the black and white keys. They were covered in many tiny scratches, but there wasn’t a speck of dust on them; it was obvious at a glance that someone frequented this room to play.

On the music stand rested a thick book of sheet music. Zhou Zefeng flipped open the title page, where a string of elegant fountain-pen calligraphy read: “Presented to Zhaozhao, may every year be like today, and may every age bring this very moment.” There was no signature.

Zhou Zefeng noticed that two little stick figures were drawn in the bottom right corner of each page of sheet music. Each page showed subtle differences; when flipped quickly, the figures seemed to spring to life, vividly wielding swords and daggers as they closed in and finally struck down the black-clad figure before them. Zhou Zefeng quickly flipped to the final page, his lips curving up unconsciously as a complex wave of emotion suddenly welled up in his chest.

Had Lu Zhao drawn this? Was the past version of him the type of kid who would slack off during piano practice to doodle little figures on his music sheets?

Aside from the piano, the room also contained a bookshelf and a recliner. Draped over the armrest of the recliner was a small, well-washed blanket that looked quite old, and soft cushions were neatly arranged on a bay window hung with white curtains. No matter how he looked at it, this place felt more like a bedroom than Lu Zhao’s actual, formal bedroom.

Zhou Zefeng approached the bookshelf. On it sat a familiar citrus-scented candle that was burned down nearly to the bottom.

Zhou Zefeng had assumed the shelves would be lined with medical texts he couldn’t understand or other highbrow literature. To his surprise, they were filled with household-name manga titles, quite a few detective mystery novels, and even a complete box set of Harry Potter. Tucked between these colorful book spines, however, was a highly conspicuous folder.

Zhou Zefeng instantly recognized the unique nature of this folder. He felt a sudden spike of anxiety as if he were about to touch a profound secret, combined with an eager anticipation for the truth to finally come to light.

It took Zhou Zefeng nearly ten minutes to finish reading the contents of the folder, even though it was just a very thin medical record.

He didn’t quite grasp the objective medical terminology. Those cold, black words crawled across the white paper, detailing injuries from an utterly objective and clinical perspective, combining to form a reality that Zhou Zefeng could understand, yet desperately did not want to accept.

Perhaps the black and white text wasn’t stark enough, because Zhou Zefeng’s eyes then caught the CT scan resting right beside it.

His hands were nearly trembling as he slid the CT film out of its sleeve.

Imprinted on the solid black negative were grim white bones. Even stripped of flesh and reduced to mere skeletal structures, Zhou Zefeng could still recognize that these long, elegant hands belonged to Lu Zhao.

Yet, these beautiful palms had been pierced straight through by a sharp weapon with the bones snapped clean in half. In Zhou Zefeng’s eyes, the freezing, black-and-white CT scan gradually became saturated with a vision of blinding, bloody crimson. By the time he snapped back to reality, tears were already streaming down his face.

The very first thought that crossed Zhou Zefeng’s mind was—

Lu Zhao was someone who would cry from the pain of a mere friction burn on his inner thigh.

He was someone who was so incredibly terrified of pain.

[Does it hurt?]

Lu Zhao had just sat down in his clinic examination room when he received this message from Zhou Zefeng.

The tears that had once been forced out by an agonizing, bone-eroding pain finally traversed the long expanse of time, completing their arduous journey across the years to well up in Lu Zhao’s eyes once more.

[It hurts a lot.]

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