Chapter 029: Ice That Cannot Be Melted

Now, let us turn to Qin Shishen.

He sat in his car, watching as Lin Luyou got into a taxi, and only then did he step on the gas and speed away. As the lights on either side of the road slipped quickly past, he mocked himself inwardly:

Since when had he become so “compassionate”? Was it simply that he was growing old, that he’d developed the kindly heart of a father toward a young girl?

With that thought, he couldn’t help but lift his gaze to the rearview mirror and glance at himself a few times. Seeing his still-handsome, clean-cut profile, he dismissed the notion. All those years in the Middle East—he really had forgotten the pain once the wound had healed, never learning his lesson…

His home was not far from the tech park, close enough for a leisurely stroll. But since he owned a car, why bother walking?

After work, it was as if Qin Shishen became another person entirely. The warmth and smile he wore during the day vanished without a trace; under the flickering streetlights, he seemed all depth and severity. It was not an exaggeration to say there was a block of ancient ice in his eyes.

Back home, he didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. In the darkness, he changed his shoes by feel, shuffled to the fridge, and grabbed a beer, downing half the bottle in one long gulp.

After washing up, he didn’t even towel the water from the ends of his hair, but fell straight into bed, letting himself sink into the softness of the down comforter.

“Ring ring ring! Remember to take your medicine!”

“La la la! Keep happy!”

“Beep beep beep! If you’re in a bad mood, remember to talk to me!”

He reached out and silenced the alarm clock blaring on the nightstand. Setting down his phone, his hand groped around until, with a “snap,” the bedside lamp flickered on, finally casting a bit of human warmth into the room.

The entire room was decorated with extreme simplicity, the palette nothing but black, white, and gray. The alarm that had just rung was a recording his sister Qin Shiguang had insisted on making after he returned to the country. She’d pried his fingers apart to unlock his phone, and recorded it right in front of him.

He could still remember how Qin Shiguang had put on a stern face, pretending to be all grown up: “If you dare delete this alarm, I’ll— I’ll be furious! I’ll tell everyone all your childhood embarrassments!”

One look at her and it was obvious she was a well-protected, good girl—her attempts at threats only made her seem more adorable. Yet she had her rebellious side too; while he was abroad, she’d gone off and enrolled in the police academy.

Who knew how she was really doing there? She only ever reported good news, never the bad. He suspected she must be a bit muddle-headed.

As Qin Shishen grumbled about his sister, he dutifully took a medicine bottle from the drawer and poured a few pills into his palm. Yet perhaps he had forgotten that he, too, was the type to share only the good and keep the rest to himself. In criticizing his little sister, he was, in effect, scolding himself as well.

He picked up the bottle by his bed, only to realize it was the half-finished beer from earlier. Tilting his head back, he tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed them down.

After taking his medicine, he lay stiffly on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Only after a long while did sleepiness begin to overtake him.

Qin Shishen had studied psychology, admitted to MIT’s graduate program ahead of schedule with special consideration. In the Middle East, he’d worked with Doctors Without Borders, moving from war zone to war zone, providing psychological support to both his fellow doctors and the suffering civilians.

Everything had gone well—until fate intervened with an accident no one could have foreseen. Left with no choice, he’d had to withdraw from the team and return home ahead of schedule.

Since coming back, a sound, restful sleep had become a rare luxury. Every time he closed his eyes, the horrors he had witnessed would rise, vivid, before him.