"People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime." – Unknown
Hangzhou, China – October 18th, – 1:00 PM
After a short car ride, they arrive at a large building Anna recognizes immediately: the hospital. Her heart beats with anticipation. Kang pulls up close to the front entrance, unbuckles her seat belt, and gestures for her to go inside. This time, Anna doesn’t hesitate. She hops out of the passenger seat and steps into the lobby, waiting for him to park.
The hospital doesn’t look much different from those back home—neutral colors, easy-to-clean floors, the sterile scent of disinfectant. The noticeable differences are the dominant presence of Chinese characters on the signs and the faint undertone of herbs mixed in with the usual hospital smells. It’s oddly familiar, yet foreign at the same time. A pang of homesickness tightens her chest.
A hand on her shoulder startles her out of her thoughts. She scolds herself for letting her guard down so easily—but then again, the hospital has always been her safe place. Kang takes her hand, leading the way to the elevators. A wave of nervous anticipation washes over her.
When they reach the ICU, he approaches the nurses’ station, flashing his badge. One of the nurses gestures toward a room at the end of the hall. Anna takes a deep breath, unsure of how she will react. She has had many patients, but this time it’s different.
She steps inside.
On the bed lies Cao Niu Ju—not the pale, lifeless figure Anna last saw, but not quite the vibrant young woman she first met, either. She must have made a sound because Cao Niu Ju turns toward her. Their eyes meet. Anna’s nervousness vanishes, replaced by relief.
She hurries to the bedside and gently takes Cao Niu Ju’s hand. “I’m so happy to see you,” she says, her eyes misting.
Cao Niu Ju looks at Kang. “She’s the one who saved me?” she asks hesitantly.
Kang nods.
Cao Niu Ju squeezes Anna’s hand. “Thank you,” she enunciates carefully. The sincerity in her voice is undeniable, but there’s a formality to it.
For Anna, Cao Niu Ju was a lifeline—helping someone else kept her focused while she was trapped in the container. But Anna realizes that for Cao Niu Ju, she’s just a stranger. A pill popper she met in the bathroom.
Anna suppresses the urge to hug her and blinks back tears, not wanting to make the young woman uncomfortable. Instead, she offers a small smile. “I hope you feel better soon.”
Spotting a nearby notepad, she scribbles down her email address and hands it to Cao Niu Ju.
“Thank you,” Cao Niu Ju repeats before turning to Kang. “Thank you for bringing her here. She seems nice.”
“She was worried about you,” Kang replies.
Cao Niu Ju hesitates before speaking again. “The officer who was shot in the cargo raid… I’d like to thank him, too.”
“He was just doing his job,” Kang says, shaking his head. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Please.” In Cao Niu Ju’s eyes, there is a mix of hope, desperation, and guilt.
Kang sighs. “I’ll look into it.” He doesn’t promise anything.
Anna watches the exchange without understanding the words, but as Cao Niu Ju leans back against her pillow, she seems calmer. With one last squeeze of the hand, Anna follows Kang out of the room. As they step into the hallway, she quickly memorizes the room number. She’ll have Hailee help her send flowers later—something to brighten up the sterile walls.
***
In the car, Anna takes the opportunity to study Kang’s profile. She doesn’t worry about being caught staring—after everything they’ve been through, they’ve long since abandoned any pretense of politeness.
She grudgingly admits that he isn’t bad-looking. Objectively, he could even be considered handsome if it weren’t for his unbearable personality.
His features are sharp and symmetrical, but just strong enough to avoid being pretty. His dark eyes are slightly arched—like an archer’s bow over a dark moon. At this uncharacteristically poetic thought, Anna gives herself a mental shake. She really needs more sleep.
“Thank you,” she finally says. She truly appreciates that he brought her to see Cao Niu Ju. Seeing her alive and healing lifts a huge weight off her shoulders. And she’s relieved that Cao Niu Ju won’t have to live with the terrible memories of what happened—that once she’s discharged, she can move on.
“You’re welcome,” Kang responds, recognizing the phrase.
Anna mutters. “I’d appreciate it more next time if you actually told me we were going somewhere.” She wasn’t willing to let go of all her hard feelings quite yet. If he’d simply texted Hailee, it would have saved them both a lot of unnecessary aggravation this morning.
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Kang doesn’t understand her words, but he recognizes the smug little look she gets when she thinks she’s won an argument. He’ll let her have it.
He knows that moments like these are complicated. Soldiers, cops, doctors, and nurses—they don’t do what they do for gratitude or recognition. But they still invest a piece of themselves into every person they save. And even more into the ones they don’t.
They sit in companionable silence for the rest of the ride. Kang doesn’t even bother turning on the radio. Instead, he keeps a casual but watchful eye on the pedestrians as they pass through her neighborhood. When they reach her building, he escorts her safely inside the apartment before leaving.
“See you tomorrow,” he murmurs, even though he knows she can’t understand.
“Bye,” he hears her say as the door closes behind him.
***
Putting together some last-minute changes to her lesson plans, Hailee looks up when Principal Song walks in with a man she doesn’t recognize.
“Teacher Westcott, this is Mr. Chris Pearson,” Principal Song says with a friendly smile. “He covered your classes while you were out and has now officially joined our faculty.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hailee says genuinely. He is certainly going to stand out, she thinks. At well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and naturally blonde hair, he’s hard to miss.
“A pleasure,” he replies in a crisp British accent.
“Is this your first time teaching in China?” she asks.
“I’ve been teaching my way across the globe,” he says, his smile easygoing. “I’ve been in Beijing, but I’m working my way south. Hopefully, I’ll find time to see some of the best holiday spots. Any recommendations?”
Principal Song gives Hailee a knowing look but says nothing.
“I’m sure you’ll love it here,” Hailee replies with a polite smile, keeping her tone neutral. She came to China to focus on herself. She isn’t interested in casual flings or getting her heart broken, and she can tell Chris is a practiced flirt. No doubt the other women at the school will appreciate the eye candy—she’ll leave him to them.
***
Kang studies the investigation board. At its center, the number sixty is scrawled in red and circled in bold strokes. Ten shipments over the past two years, averaging six young women per load. Sixty lives, either lost or trapped in a living hell.
What unsettles him more is that the number is small. Small-scale traffickers move that many in a week. Large operations traffic hundreds each month. Why take such a high risk for such a low return?
His thoughts are interrupted as Man Zhu Bai enters, handing him a cup of coffee. Kang accepts it with a nod. The tension between them has eased since they agreed to work together. Man Zhu Bai is a solid team player, and after hundreds of hours interrogating suspects and sifting through evidence, they’ve found a rhythm.
“It’ll take months to go through all the documents from Wu’s office,” Man Zhu Bai says, breaking the silence. “The last interrogation got us the same result as the others. They only loaded and unloaded cargo.”
“Wu wasn’t trusted,” Kang says. “He was set up as a middleman—a fall guy. It makes sense his men don’t know anything”
“Wu must’ve thought it was his time to shine when you came to him looking to make a deal.” Man Zhu Bai shakes his head.
Kang isn’t surprised Shi Zhi kept Wu out of the loop. The man was arrogant and stupid, too blind to see he’d be left holding the bag if things went south. Every shred of evidence points back to him. The prosecution has an open-and-shut case, but even with the offer of leniency, Wu won’t talk. He’s more afraid of his boss than of prison.
They traced a few warehouses in his name, but all had been wiped clean. Wu told Kang last week the guns had been delivered, meaning there are still crates of firearms unaccounted for somewhere in Hangzhou. Finding them before they’re sold off is critical, but with over 500 warehouses and storage facilities in the city—plus privately owned properties and neighboring areas—even with the extensive network of CCTVs it’s like searching for a needle in the ocean.
“What are you thinking?” Man Zhu Bai asks.
“What do the victims have in common?” Kang murmurs, his eyes on the board.
Photos of Cao Niu Ju, Chai Lai Luan, Huan Rong, and the others rescued from the shipping container surround the circled number.
“You don’t think it was random?” Man Zhu Bai frowns. “They’re all young, pretty, and from lower-income families.”
“Let’s interview them again,” Kang says. “Bring Penny. They might be more comfortable talking to a woman.”
“Fine,” Man Zhu Bai agrees. “And the guns?”
Kang exhales. He doesn’t like admitting how little they have to go on. “I’ll reach out to my contacts in the military. See if there are any rumors.”
The team has been working overtime for the past week. They should rest while things are quiet. He watches as Man Zhu Bai tosses his empty cup into the trash.
“You should go home,” Kang says.
“I’ll finish my shift.”
“It ended an hour ago.” Kang arches a brow. “Go home. If you don’t rest, you’ll become a liability.”
Man Zhu Bai looks like he’s about to argue until Kang adds, “Your kid probably misses you.”
He says nothing. Just unclips his holster and returns his gun to the armory.
***
Ryan examines a pistol from the top of the stack inside a large crate. A crude mix of plastic and metal, yet capable of both protection and destruction. The profits from arms dealing are decent, but it's not exactly a cocktail party conversation-type business. Though it is a great place to meet potential clients.
Guns are useful, but maybe it's the American in him—he’s never been impressed by a tool any fool can use. True power is controlling people without ever needing to pull a trigger.
He tosses the pistol to a foot soldier clad in a red tracksuit and flashy jewelry. His style is a near-perfect imitation of the Red Serpent Society, a young, hot-blooded gang operating in the West Lake district. Ryan has been keeping an eye on them—a good businessman knows his potential allies and enemies.
The Red Serpents started small-time, running tourist scams, but over the last few years, they have spread into prostitution and drugs. They have ambition but lack the ability to see the bigger picture. Instead of consolidating their power and diversifying, they’re recklessly expanding into Black Tiger Gang territory.
The Black Tigers are loan sharks who run underground gambling rings out of their nightclubs and KTVs. Old-school thugs in black clothes and leather jackets. Both gangs are low-class hoodlums—more money than brains, making them perfect pawns.
“Make sure they see you, then get out,” Ryan instructs.
The soldiers bow and leave to carry out his orders. He surveys his new warehouse. It has enough space for what he needs and room to grow, but not so much that it draws attention. Conveniently, it’s not far from where he spotted Anna at the market.
He considers going back, hoping for another glimpse of her, but lingering around on the off chance of seeing her again feels desperate. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly been smooth. Next time, he’ll make sure she’ll be impressed. He will be—charming, confident, and completely in control. And when it happens, it will be the kind of moment women dream about—unforgettable.
