Hard to Escape

Chapter 21

The next day, I woke up on the hotel's soft and cozy bed, covered with a fluffy blanket. It seemed to already be noon, and bright rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds. I opened a pair of slightly puffy eyes and scratched my hair.

Last night, I'd watched those recordings deep into the night. After sitting there silently for a long while, not knowing what to do, my sluggish mind had finally sobered up.

I needed to leave Yin Li.

Things were now developing at an unimaginable speed. The truth of my messy past was almost out. I'm afraid that what Yin Li gave me was a perfect setup that had been planned long ago. I knew that I could choose to suppress my moody thoughts and, concealing my true knowledge, continue to play the fool and remain by Yin Li's side to collect more information. This way, I could reverse my own passiveness. But I was afraid. A person that you not only relied on but also loved, in one night smashed to pieces your perception of everything. I was incapable of behaving so cool-headed in front of him, I was incapable of behaving as he did. Knowing everything between us, he could somehow still wordlessly cover everything behind a false mask and tolerate letting me live so close inside his safe spaces. I didn't know how to face him.

I was both protecting myself and running away.

Therefore, that night I had packed my things, planning to hastily make my escape from Yin Li's house. In movies in this kind of situation, in order to eliminate all traces of yourself that the other party might be able to find, you would avoid using any credit cards or bank cards. Otherwise, even withdrawing some money might reveal your location. It was a pity that I really didn't have the foresight. Right now on my person, besides some joint-account cards that Yin Li had given me, I actually didn't have that much cash.

Luckily, in the end I didn't leave Yin Li's house any worse off than I'd entered it. On the contrary, my winnings were quite good and I carried out with me a huge bag. Inside was messily stuffed with several things that could be pawned off—jade artifacts, jeweled ornaments, and crystals. There was even a considerably valuable gold-inlaid jade ashtray. If it wasn't for the fact that they were a bit too suspicious for me to carry around, I would've really itched to have even carried away the Qing dynasty flower vase Yin Li placed in the hallway, and then also liberate from his wall all those genuine hanging paintings.

He owed me part of a life, so naturally I had the right to take those things.

And the whole time as I'd rushed to the long-distance bus station, I had the vague thought that perhaps, for me, this could be counted as a happy ending. That year, the first time I'd entered Yin Li's stunningly resplendent home, I'd also really itched to pry the silver frames off the giant mirrors in his house and then run away with them. Now this could be counted as fulfilling a wish of mine.

Yin Li had probably realized what happened. When I got to the bus station, my phone's screen had already lit up with around ten missed calls and and unread messages, and even then he had still refused to give up, continuing to call. I stared at the flickering light of the display and in the end answered his call.

Amidst the clamor of the crowd around me, the impatient sound of his voice seemed to have a vaguely fake quality. "Yan Xiao, where are you?" he asked.

At that moment I felt battered and beaten down, my face exhausted and dirty. On my back I carried the past Frank had given me along with the loot I'd stolen from Yin Li's house, in my hand I clutched a few hundred yuan, and I stood in the middle of a flowing river of people. All around me, people with their luggage continuously walked on by, bumping against my shoulder and my body. I stood in the middle of the path and was jostled left and right like a clumsy fish battered silly by the current. With impatient faces, each seemed to be driven by a clear motivation. For what reason did they all rush forwards without stopping? People's voices bubbled like a cauldron, lively and chaotic. In the window of the store right across the street was only a reflection of me tilting my head up, staring at the bus schedule with a young yet empty face.