Chapter 1: Release Notice

“Kid, once you’re out, live a good life. If you dare come back, I’ll be the first to break your legs.”

Zhang Jianhui’s tone was fierce, and his hands were equally busy, giving the man in front of him two hard slaps on the arm.

His palm tingled from the impact against the solid muscle. Zhang Jianhui immediately broke into a squinting smile: “Ho, you kid, all those years of stir-frying in the big wok weren’t for nothing—your arm muscles are pretty well-trained.”

The blue mask on his face couldn’t hide Lei Wu’s slightly arched thick brows and big eyes. Today he could finally smile freely and comfortably, his tone relaxed: “That’s right, carrying that big shovel every day is like doing dumbbell exercises.”

Zhang Jianhui’s gaze traveled from top to bottom, over and over, taking in Lei Wu, who had finally shed his ten-year prison uniform and changed into casual clothes.

He wore a navy blue sweater on top, light blue washed jeans on the bottom, paired with a pair of black sneakers—all new. It was clear the person who sent the clothes had put thought into it, but unfortunately the sizes were bought too small; the sweater and jeans clung tightly to his bulging muscles.

There was also a jacket, but Lei Wu found it too hot and didn’t wear it, stuffing it into his backpack instead.

Zhang Jianhui was the talkative type when happy, chattering on: “Clothes make the man, and gold leaf makes the Buddha. Tomorrow go to the mall and buy a few more outfits. With your build now, you’d look good in anything.”

Lei Wu’s eyes curved into a smile: “Sure, next time I’ll dress up like a refined scumbag and come back to see you and the other officers.”

“Pfft, pfft, pfft!” Zhang Jianhui shot him a look: “Come back my ass!”

The four-meter-tall electric iron gate slowly opened with a clanging sound. Sunlight rushed eagerly through the gap, pouring in more and more, growing brighter and brighter.

Lei Wu couldn’t resist turning his head to look outside the gate.

The winter sunlight was cold and clear. Dust particles floated up and down in the light like golden powder, landing at the corners of Lei Wu’s eyes, stinging them until a sour wave welled up.

Zhang Jianhui patted Lei Wu’s shoulder: “Let’s go.”

Lei Wu lowered his head and pressed his knuckles against the bridge of his nose, answering: “Okay.”

He followed at Zhang Jianhui’s side, walking step by step from the darkness into the light.

Suddenly he tilted his head back and took a deep breath. The icy air rushed into his nasal cavity and chest, then was exhaled from his mouth, becoming warm white smoke that seeped through the gaps of his mask.

In the clear, deep blue sky floated clouds torn into cotton wadding, and several black birds flew freely through the air.

A thought suddenly crossed Lei Wu’s mind—were these flying birds swallows that had come south for the winter?

The two walked to the yellow warning line and stopped.

In front of them was a straight, wide walkway leading directly to the final gate. Although the prison was located far from the hustle and bustle, with few people around and barely a ghost to be seen, for Lei Wu, beyond this gate was still another world.

Inside the gate, time seemed to have frozen. Life was sealed in wax, wrapped in ice. One year or ten years—it was all the same: darkness with no visible end, unable to move.

When a person is in darkness, some memories are carved especially deep. Every face Lei Wu had seen in Unit Two was etched in his heart.

In the week before he was to be transferred to the release unit, Lei Wu spent his entire monthly allowance in one go. The spending limit for wide-management-level inmates was four hundred a month. He bought cigarettes and some food, distributing everything to the other eleven people in his cell—especially the youngest one, who had been in for less than half a year. Lei Wu gave him a few extra cigarettes and half a pack of ham sausages.

The youngest one’s surname was Lin. He was twenty this year and had trouble adjusting when he first arrived, crying under his blanket every night after labor reform. Lei Wu slept in the bunk above him and found it annoying to hear a grown man crying like Lin Daiyu, so he’d often curse at him for being bad luck.

The youngest one, clutching his ham sausage, started crying again, saying, “Brother Wu, why are you so good to me?”

Lei Wu didn’t tell him—because the youngest one, like him, was in for hit-and-run.

And seeing him cry reminded Lei Wu of how pathetic he himself had been when he first arrived.

Embarrassing.

Zhang Jianhui handed Lei Wu the transparent folder he had been holding, instructing: “Here, keep it safe. Remember to go to the relevant offices to handle the paperwork on time. From now on, obey the law, be a good citizen, and don’t drink and drive again, you hear me…”

Lei Wu looked down.

The top document in the folder read in black and white: “Release Notice.”

Seeing him standing there dazed and motionless, Zhang Jianhui reached around to his back and gave him a hard push.

Lei Wu was pushed forward two steps—and just like that, he crossed the yellow warning line.

He wanted to turn around and bow to Zhang Jianhui, but Zhang Jianhui spoke first: “No looking back. Keep your eyes on this road ahead and walk out with your head held high.”

Without realizing it, Lei Wu had already straightened his back and taken the first step, then the second, then the third.

He walked quickly, raising the folder in his hand and waving it in the air, saying loudly: “I won’t be coming back!”

Zhang Jianhui watched his figure grow smaller and smaller until he could no longer see him, then finally turned to go back.

The guard at the post saw his low spirits and teased: “What’s wrong, Old Zhang, can’t bear to part with your lifesaver?”

Zhang Jianhui sighed, somewhat consoled: “Ah, this kid made mistakes, but thankfully he’s come back to life.”

Zhang Jianhui still felt lingering fear whenever he thought of what happened back then.

Six years ago, Unit Two had a period when a lot of troublemakers were newly admitted—very hard to discipline. A group of them banded together and collectively caused an uprising during lunch one day.

At the time, the cafeteria was guarded by Zhang Jianhui, an old prison officer, and two other young officers. They were outnumbered and surrounded and beaten by the crowd.

Before reinforcements arrived, Zhang Jianhui had already been pinned to the ground.

He had no time to protect his head. Several heavy punches landed on his temples. He was already seeing stars, his consciousness drifting.

Then suddenly someone tore through the layers of the siege and threw himself directly onto Zhang Jianhui, shielding him from many punches and kicks.

That person was Lei Wu.

Of the two young officers at the time, one suffered a concussion and the other broke two fingers. Neither continued working there.

Zhang Jianhui pointed at his own head: “If Xiao Lei hadn’t thrown himself on me to shield me that day, I’d probably be paralyzed at home right now.”

Lei Wu had no idea Officer Zhang was chatting with the guard about the riot from years ago. He strode out of the prison gate and saw only a flashy red SUV parked by the main road—looked like he was the only one being released today.

He curved his lips into a smile and walked toward the conspicuous vehicle.

Xu Chaolong was leaning against the car, a cigarette between his lips as he looked down at his phone. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and his jaw dropped so fast the cigarette nearly fell out. He waved both hands in the air: “Brother Wu! Here, here, here!”

Lei Wu walked up to him and circled to the front of the car, looking it over: “Yo, you’re really flashy now, huh? Didn’t you used to complain that our car colors were too showy?”

“Ah, Xiao Qing likes bright red. She says this color brings us good luck.”

Hearing this, Lei Wu’s eyes widened and he cursed with a laugh: “Don’t tell me the red underwear you brought me today was picked out by your wife!”

Lei Wu had been inside too long—his old personal clothes were long unwearable. The last time he’d made a family call to Xu Chaolong, Lei Wu had asked him to bring a set of clothes, shoes, and socks.

He hadn’t expected that among the clothes he received this morning there was also a pair of bright red underwear—garish in color, dazzling to the eyes.

The waistband even had a golden character embroidered on it: “Fortune.”

“No, no, my mother-in-law had a small surgery at the beginning of the month. Xiao Qing went back to our hometown to help out.” Xu Chaolong reached through the car window and pulled out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes.

Lei Wu saw the plastic wrap on the pack was still intact and reached out to stop Xu Chaolong, pointing to another half-crushed pack of Furongwang on the front of the car: “Don’t open a new one. Just give me that one.”

Xu Chaolong looked at him quietly, blew out a stream of white smoke, and sighed: “The old Brother Wu used to smoke—at the very least he’d start from soft Zhonghua.”

“You said it yourself—that was ‘before.'” Lei Wu’s tone was flat.

He pulled down his mask and took the cigarette Xu Chaolong handed him. The wind was strong in the suburbs; Xu Chaolong’s lighter sparked several times before producing a tiny flame.

Once the cigarette was lit, Lei Wu took a deep drag, then returned to the topic from earlier: “So that red underwear—don’t tell me you picked it? What kind of taste do you have?”

Actually, this topic was childish and boring, but Lei Wu didn’t want it to end just like that. He needed an opening, a way to naturally bring up that person’s name.

Xu Chaolong paused for a moment, scratched the back of his head with his cigarette-holding fingers, and said with a slight pout: “Feiyan bought it. All your clothes and shoes—she picked them out. When she was buying the underwear, I even tried to talk her out of it, saying you wouldn’t like that old-fashioned style…”

Lei Wu couldn’t hear anything Xu Chaolong said after that.

Because he had already heard that person’s name.