Ji Shuyu frowned, carefully trying to recall the details. Before she could piece anything together, the office door was knocked.
Zhao Qiang poked his head in, his expression somewhat strange, as if hesitating to speak. “Regiment Commander… we’ve gotten something out of the interrogation…”
“Speak,” He Yuan said succinctly.
Zhao Qiang swallowed hard and forced himself to continue, “Old Qian confessed… He said… he said that key was… was…”
“Was what? Stop stammering!”
“He said the key was… given to him by… Vice Commander Lin! He said that if he could get the key and the route map, he could save his life and even get a large sum of money!”
Zhao Qiang said it all in one breath, then cautiously observed He Yuan’s expression.
“Who?”
He Yuan suddenly looked up, his pupils instantly contracting, as if he hadn’t heard clearly or couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“Who did you say?!”
“Lin… Lin Fang, Vice Commander Lin…”
Zhao Qiang’s voice trailed off.
The office fell into dead silence.
Lin Fang?
That Lin Fang who had enlisted with him, struggled through hardships together, and was the brother he could trust with his back on the battlefield?
That Lin Fang who was always smiling, telling him he worked too hard and should rest more, and often dragged him out for drinks?
He Yuan felt a buzzing in his head, as if a great bell had been struck hard beside his ear, shaking his entire body numb.
His heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an icy hand, making it hard to breathe.
He instinctively took half a step back, bumping into the desk behind him.
Ji Shuyu was also heavily shaken by the news, but she quickly regained her composure and looked at He Yuan with concern.
She saw him staring blankly ahead, his eyes vacant.
It was the emptiness and confusion that followed the collapse of a belief—the previous sharpness and sternness had vanished without a trace, leaving only utter disbelief.
“He Yuan…”
Ji Shuyu called his name softly.
He Yuan seemed not to hear. He suddenly turned around and slammed his fist hard against the wall beside him, producing a dull thud.
The back of his hand immediately turned red, but he seemed to feel no pain. He just clenched his teeth tightly, his shoulders trembling slightly.
Being stabbed in the back by the brother he trusted and cared about the most felt a hundred times worse than taking a bullet.
An indescribable pain engulfed him like a tidal wave.
He Yuan had always believed he was protecting what was most important, only to find the biggest loophole was right beside him.
“Regiment Commander…”
Zhao Qiang wanted to say more, but He Yuan raised his hand, signaling for him to leave.
Ji Shuyu gently shook her head at Zhao Qiang, indicating that he should leave first.
Zhao Qiang knew all too well how devastating such a betrayal by a brother would be for He Yuan.
If Old Qian were falsely implicating someone, he wouldn’t have been so specific. So, in all likelihood, this was true.
In the following days, although He Yuan forced himself to deal with the aftermath—controlling Lin Fang, conducting the interrogation, reporting the situation—everyone could see that he was not himself.
He became silent and often stared blankly at nothing, the light gone from his eyes, as if his soul had been drained.
Even when eating, he just mechanically shoved a few bites into his mouth. He visibly lost weight, the stubble on his chin making him look particularly haggard.
Ji Shuyu saw it all and felt anxious inside.
She knew that the wound of betrayal by someone so close couldn’t be healed with just a few words of comfort.
One evening, watching He Yuan staring blankly out the window again, not even noticing she had entered, Ji Shuyu finally couldn’t hold back. She walked over.
She gently placed her hand on He Yuan’s arm, her voice soft.
“He Yuan, things here have temporarily settled. The interrogation has specialized personnel handling it. You… you can’t go on like this.”
He Yuan showed no reaction, still gazing out at the pitch-black night.
Ji Shuyu paused, her voice softening even more.
“I’ve spoken with your superiors. They’ve approved a few days of leave for you. Let’s go out, just the two of us, far away from here.”
“Not too far, just to the nearest county town to relax, okay? Change the environment, change your mood.”
He Yuan slowly turned his head and looked into Ji Shuyu’s eyes, filled with worry.
He reached out, hugged Ji Shuyu, and softly agreed.
Lin Fang was held in solitary confinement, the news reported up the chain of command, awaiting processing.
But before he was transferred, he made one request: he wanted to see He Yuan alone.
He Yuan initially didn’t want to go. The wound of betrayal was still bleeding, and even a glance felt piercing.
But Political Commissar Qi persuaded him: “Go. Hear what he has to say. If only to leave no regrets for yourself later, to make a clean break.”
If there’s a knot, untie it on the spot, so you won’t look back and still feel the pain.
He Yuan remained silent for a long time but eventually went to where Lin Fang was held.
Separated by iron bars, in just a few days, Lin Fang also seemed like a different person.
His usual vigor was gone, his eyes sunken, his face covered in stubble.
The two faced each other without words, the air so heavy it felt crushing.
After a long while, Lin Fang spoke first, his voice dry and hoarse: “Lao He… I’m sorry.”
He Yuan didn’t respond, just looked at him with those lifeless eyes, waiting for him to continue.
Lin Fang lowered his head, rubbed his face hard with his hands, and when he looked up again, his eyes were slightly red.
“I know anything I say will sound like an excuse… It wasn’t directed at you, nor at our uniforms… I…”
He choked up, took a deep breath, as if mustering immense resolve.
“They captured my mother and my younger sister… back in my hometown. My dad passed early; it was my mom who raised us siblings alone… Those bastards! Used their lives to force me…”
Lin Fang’s voice carried suppressed sobs and anger: “They said if I cooperated just this once, got the key, they’d let them go and even give them money to start far away… Otherwise… otherwise they’d…”
He couldn’t continue, his hands gripping the iron bars tightly, knuckles white.
He Yuan’s heart sank heavily.
He hadn’t expected this reason.
Lin Fang was famously filial and doted on his younger sister.
“Why didn’t you report it? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He Yuan’s voice was still hoarse but carried a barely noticeable tremor.
If Lin Fang had spoken, perhaps they could have found a way together…
“I didn’t dare! Lao He, I didn’t dare to gamble!”
Lin Fang grew agitated, tears finally falling.
“They said there are others inside. If I leaked even a hint, my mother and sister would be killed immediately! I… I had no choice… I could only…”
He slumped down, leaning against the wall, like a helpless child.
“I know I was wrong, terribly wrong… I betrayed your trust, failed the organization’s training… I, Lin Fang, am weak, I’m scum… but I… I truly had no way out then…”
He Yuan looked at the broken man before him, his feelings extremely complicated.
Amid the anger, disappointment, and heartache, he tragically felt a sliver of understanding.
If it were Shuyu being threatened… he didn’t dare think what he would do.
But that still couldn’t justify the betrayal.
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