Chapter Thirteen: The One Who Returned from Death

Zhou Yi stepped out of the car.

The cab door swung open. In the pickup’s rear compartment sat a crate of bottled water; a few syringes were tucked in his jacket pocket. He pulled his coat tighter and faced the sea.

In Mist City, only the stretch near the art museum boasted a beach; the rest of the coastline was all reefs and cliffs—breathtaking to behold, but ill-suited for swimming.

A cold wind swept by as Zhou Yi looked toward the Goer family’s residence.

He didn’t have to wait long. A figure ambled over, not hurrying, apparently trying to make out what was happening. Zhou Yi pulled out a cigarette, took two deep drags, and waved at Goer. Leaning against the hood, he stubbed out his cigarette as Goer drew near, bending over to meet his gaze.

“Are you Goer?”

Goer nodded.

“Where’s Destiny? She’s my only family in this world. I just want to know where she went with you all, or if something happened to her. Why can’t I reach her? Why has she vanished?”

Goer tightened his coat, glanced at Zhou Yi’s face, and seemed much less guarded.

“I really don’t know. But the name does sound familiar. You know how young people are—always up to something out of the ordinary. But we can’t restrict their freedom, can we?”

“What about Jennifer? Does he know anything? Could you ask him for me?”

Goer hesitated, glancing behind him before lowering his voice.

“Jennifer is dead. It happened nearly two months ago...”

Before he could finish, Zhou Yi cut him off, stubbornness etched in every wrinkle.

“Impossible. There’s no way he’s dead. Last time I called Destiny, he answered the phone. Now Destiny’s phone doesn’t work, so I came in person. Besides, I’ve seen photos of you and Jennifer—otherwise, how would I know your address?”

Goer was stunned, whether by Zhou Yi’s words or the mention of Jennifer, it was hard to tell.

Zhou Yi deliberately feigned disbelief at Jennifer’s death—after all, the news had never reported such a thing. He wanted to play the fool a bit, to make Goer lower his guard, to make him believe he was genuinely searching for someone.

Goer rubbed his chin, glancing back at his house repeatedly. Zhou Yi felt a wave of suspicion—was there someone inside?

As he pondered this, Goer turned as if to walk away. Zhou Yi couldn’t possibly let him leave—not after all this preparation. Clearly, Goer knew nothing of the prison escape, and Alderson hadn’t come looking for him.

“Don’t go. You still haven’t told me where Destiny is!”

Blocking Goer’s path, Zhou Yi forced him to stop. Goer raised both hands in surrender.

“I’m not leaving. It’s just... hard to explain. I don’t really know how to say it. How about this: I’ll call someone over, all right?”

Zhou Yi paused, mind racing as to who this person could be.

“Who else is there? Unless Destiny’s in your house?”

Goer shook his head.

“To be honest, I don’t remember who Destiny is. We have lots of friends we hang out with. Every day there’s a new companion, plenty of girls we take pictures with or keep in touch with. But if you’ve seen a photo, you’d recognize him. There’s a lot going on here—more than I can explain in a conversation. Trust me, I’m not trying to deceive you.”

A sudden thought struck Zhou Yi—a possibility so startling it sent a chill through him, for it seemed almost impossible.

“Who?”

Goer shook his head, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number. The call connected instantly.

“Where the hell are you? Get back here—we’re about to start!”

“Hang on, man. Come outside—I’m on the little path east of the villa. There’s someone here who wants to see you.”

“Who is it?”

Goer didn’t lower his voice, giving Zhou Yi a wary glance.

“He says he’s Destiny’s grandfather. He’s seen photos of you and me. My father said we’d best avoid trouble lately—especially you. He can’t cover for you anymore. Hurry over and explain.”

He hung up. Though Goer hadn’t put the phone on speaker, Zhou Yi had caught every word. The voice on the other end made his skin crawl.

Yes, he remembered that voice. It belonged to Jennifer.

But wasn’t Jennifer dead?

Otherwise, why would Zhou Yi have been convicted of murder?

What on earth was going on?

“Jennifer? Didn’t you say he died in a car accident?”

Goer shrugged, a conflicted look on his face.

“I can’t explain it in a few words. He got into some trouble. It’s all his father’s doing. I don’t know the details. He goes by James Miller now. Sir, don’t get worked up. If you want to find your granddaughter, stay calm, all right? Otherwise, I can’t help you.”

Zhou Yi didn’t move. One hand in his pocket, his body trembling. If Jennifer wasn’t dead, and this was all orchestrated by Jennifer’s father, did that mean Jennifer was hiding from some crime under a new identity?

And Zhou Yi himself—was he just the scapegoat, used to cover up the truth behind Jennifer’s supposed death?

The more he considered it, the stranger it seemed—beyond anything he’d ever known. However shameless a person could be, could they really go this far?

Lost in thought, Zhou Yi heard footsteps behind him. Someone jogged over, muttering impatiently.

“Who the hell is Destiny, anyway? I don’t know anyone by that name. Hurry up—everyone’s ready except for you.”

Goer pointed to Zhou Yi.

“Hey, calm down. This gentleman’s granddaughter is missing. He says you once answered her phone when he called. He’s seen photos of you and me. That’s why he’s here—to ask about Destiny.”

Jennifer slowed, eyed Zhou Yi, saw he was an old man, and immediately lost all trace of suspicion.

“Never heard of her. I meet too many girls every day—how am I supposed to remember their names? Like trying to recall the face of every fish I catch: impossible. How would I remember who Destiny is?”

Zhou Yi suppressed the urge to punch Jennifer, turned to him, pulled out his cigarette case, and tossed a cigarette each to Jennifer and Goer. Lighting one for himself, he handed the lighter to Goer.

Blowing out a smoke ring, Zhou Yi leaned against the pickup and sighed.

“When I was young, I liked to have my share of fun, too. But age turns those stories into nothing more than anecdotes. I’m not here to interfere with your lives—I just want to find my granddaughter.

Her parents died in a plane crash. I raised her myself. She’s grown now, wants her independence, and that’s fine. But she should at least finish university. So tell me—when was the last time you saw her?”

He spoke slowly, without a trace of aggression. Goer lit his cigarette, offered the lighter to Jennifer, who accepted it without protest.

“Sir, it’s not that we’re hiding anything—we really don’t remember. We’ve hung out with a lot of girls, and with our status, there’s always someone new. But I promise, if I see this Destiny again, I’ll let you know. Is that enough?”

Zhou Yi nodded, silent, stamping out his cigarette.

He walked to the back of the pickup, grabbed bottles of water from the box, and handed one each to the pair, wearing an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry for being impatient. Age makes it hard to control my temper. I hope you don’t mind. But Goer just mentioned you were in a car accident, changed your name—are you all right now?”

The gesture was meant as an apology. Goer accepted the water readily.

Seeing Zhou Yi take a swig himself, Goer thought nothing of it. Jennifer, having run over, was parched and gulped half the bottle at once.

“It’s a long story. My father arranged everything...”

Jennifer broke off, as if the world spun before his eyes. He dropped to his knees. Goer’s face flashed with alarm; he rushed to Jennifer’s side.

“Jennifer, what’s wrong?”

Looking to Zhou Yi, Goer realized the old man must be behind this—after all, such tactics weren’t foreign to them, and now he was feeling dizzy, his chest tight, struggling even to speak.

Clearly, the old man was responsible.

Zhou Yi reached up and tore at the fitted mask on his head, yanking it off with effort to reveal his true face.

He crouched to look Jennifer—now James—straight in the eye.

“Changing names, letting ‘Jennifer’ die so you can live on as someone else—was that your plan? Look up. Tell me—who am I?”