It had been three days since the incident, and Jin Zhou still hadn’t recovered.

From the moment Ren Wenli informed him that Yang Shiyu had tragically died at the hospital entrance, his world came to a halt.

The heavens didn’t hear his prayers and took away his only support.

Having experienced the loss of loved ones before, Jin Zhou didn’t become any more used to it. The wound that had just begun to heal was reopened, causing him unbearable pain, almost numbing his senses.

As the days passed, Jin Zhou grew thinner day by day. He couldn’t feel joy or sadness anymore, gradually becoming numb.

“Jin Zhou, you…” Sun Yi looked at Jin Zhou with compassion. “Why don’t you go rest at home?”

Jin Zhou slowly put on his black coat and looked at Sun Yi with empty eyes. “How can I not attend his funeral?”

Jin Zhou wasn’t obviously related to Yang Shiyu, so he wasn’t qualified to collect his ashes.

The court arranged a funeral for Yang Shiyu, and the venue was the courtroom where he worked.

Although Jin Zhou was the closest person to Yang Shiyu, he could only attend the funeral as an ordinary friend, like an outsider.

“Jin Zhou, are you okay?” Ren Wenli, wearing a police uniform, approached him in a corner of the hall.

Jin Zhou’s gaze remained fixed on the large photo in front of the hall. The man in the photo looked dignified and solemn, wearing a black judicial robe with the emblem of a judge, and the glasses on his nose did not hide his handsomeness.

That man had left him.

Jin Zhou thought absentmindedly.

He could no longer feel his warmth, provoke him intentionally, or call him “wife” anymore.

“Jin Zhou?” Ren Wenli called out again.

“I’m fine.” Jin Zhou forced a smile and withdrew his gaze. He asked, “Did WangTai confess?”

“The evidence is right there; he had no choice but to confess,” Ren Wenli breathed a sigh of relief and said with a hint of emotion, “Fortunately, you recorded the video. Judge Yang had also recorded audio, but his phone got soaked in water and couldn’t be repaired in time.”

“I wish I hadn’t recorded it,” Jin Zhou muttered, interrupting Ren Wenli.

Looking back at the events of that New Year’s Eve, Jin Zhou’s biggest regret was recording the video on his phone.

He could have simply thrown the phone down, diverting WangTai’s attention. But because he instinctively started recording when he heard their conversation, he just had to go on to capture everything.

Alternatively, he could have stood up and shouted WangTai’s name the moment he took out the gun, giving Yang Shiyu a chance to escape.

Or he didn’t need to divert WangTai’s attention, he could have jumped down from above and attacked WangTai..

No, none of those options were right. When Yang Shiyu entered his room, Jin Zhou should have never let him leave in the first place.

He had thought of too many possibilities, and it made Jin Zhou’s head ache endlessly.

Perhaps there are countless moments of regret in a person’s life, but there will never be anything that would make Jin Zhou regret as much as he did at the moment.

“Don’t think too much; it will only make you suffer,” Ren Wenli patted Jin Zhou’s shoulder. “You are an important witness in this case; you must pull yourself together.”

The person closest to him was murdered, and he became the only witness—Jin Zhou could never have imagined such an outcome before boarding the ship.

Now with his testimony and the video, WangTai would never be able to turn the tables, but Jin Zhou had lost Yang Shiyu. What meaning did life hold for him now?

If he could choose again, he would have bought plane tickets and forcefully taken Yang Shiyu away on his birthday morning. As long as Yang Shiyu was by his side, he wouldn’t even need to seek revenge.

But he knew very well that even if he had such thoughts, Yang Shiyu would never easily have let him.

According to what Ren Wenli said, Yang Shiyu actually had two plans. One was as he had told Jin Zhou, he would lure WangTai into targeting Zhao Qing. The other was if the situation didn’t work out as planned, he would confront WangTai directly, luring him to attack him.

Having the police on standby on the cruise ship was for the second plan. It ensured Yang Shiyu’s safety and would catch WangTai in the act.

Such a plan naturally had its risks, but in Yang Shiyu’s and the police’s calculation, as long as Yang Shiyu could buy two or three minutes, the police would arrive at the scene in time, and the danger would have been averted.

However, plans never keep up with changes.

No one expected that WangTai had wanted to kill Yang Shiyu from the beginning. He had prepared the gun, fireworks, and the location well in advance.

There was no need for the second plan. WangTai voluntarily confronted Yang Shiyu, and within a few seconds, he ruthlessly killed him.

It’s often said that villains die from talking too much, but when villains say too little, there aren’t many happy endings in the world.

“By the way,” Ren Wenli didn’t want Jin Zhou to dwell on it anymore and changed the subject. “I’ve found out about the thing you asked me to investigate. That person indeed seems suspicious.”

Jin Zhou was not surprised and asked calmly, “Family reasons?”

Ren Wenli frowned and said, “It’s much more serious than that.”

Jin Zhou couldn’t muster any interest in catching the killer. “Then let’s close the net.”

“Are you coming?” Ren Wenli asked, “After all, you are the one who found the killer.”

Jin Zhou initially wanted to decline, but he suddenly remembered something. After a moment of silence, he furrowed his brow slightly and said, “I’ll go.”

Jin Zhou turned and looked at the man in the photo from a distance through the crowd. Sun Yi and Xiao Wu asked him to pay respects, but he didn’t go, not only because he couldn’t bring himself to do it, but also because he refused to believe that Yang Shiyu had really left him.

“Lawyer Jin.” Zhuang Yu, dressed in a black suit, appeared beside Jin Zhou, holding a white envelope. “Judge Yang asked me to give this to you.”

Jin Zhou was momentarily stunned, taking the envelope from Zhuang Yu’s hand. “When did he do this?”

“Before he went on the cruise ship,” Zhuang Yu said.

“He knew there was danger.” Jin Zhou immediately understood the significance of the letter in his hand and smiled self-mockingly. “A farewell letter?”

Indeed, Yang Shiyu was such a despicable person that he even had someone else deliver his farewell letter to Jin Zhou.

“It’s not exactly a farewell letter,” Zhuang Yu said. “When he gave it to me, he said he didn’t think anything would happen, but just in case… he had some things he wanted to say to you.”

Jin Zhou’s gaze dimmed, and he took out a white piece of paper from the envelope.

“Hope you don’t see this letter. I’m not ready to part with you yet.

But if you happen to read it, please don’t blame me.”

Familiar handwriting, familiar tone.

After reading just two lines, Jin Zhou couldn’t hold back anymore. The suppressed emotions erupted like a volcano.

“Don’t blame him? How is that possible?

“Not only do I blame you, but I also want to spit on your grave! Why did you have to leave me”

“Lawyer Jin, are you alright?” Zhuang Yu tilted his head slightly, looking at Jin Zhou with reddened eyes. “Would you like to read it  later?”

“I’m fine.” Jin Zhou clenched his teeth, enduring the surging bitterness at the tip of his nose. “Thank you for giving it to me.”

Zhuang Yu was right; now was not the time to read that letter.

Jin Zhou feared that if he continued reading, he wouldn’t be able to resist digging up Yang Shiyu’s grave and giving him a good beating.

Why did he have to put himself at such risks?

What does he care about other people’s parents’ grudges? Was he that bored that he had to take justice into his own hands?

Jin Zhou seemed to have found a good outlet for venting his emotions, cursing Yang Shiyu and his ancestors for all generations.

But as he cursed, he fell into endless emptiness, feeling that he couldn’t grasp anything.

………….

At three forty-five in the morning, Jin Zhou still lay awake.

In the dark and unfamiliar hospital room, only the sound of the heart monitor echoed. The faint light cast on Jin Zhou’s face, making it somewhat eerie.

A police officer on duty stood at the door of the single room. If Jin Zhou wasn’t mistaken, the officer should be dozing off on a chair, just like yesterday, the day before, and the day before that.

It didn’t matter because Jin Zhou had instructed the officer to sleep and not pay attention to what was happening in the room.

The single room originally belonged to Luo Xueqing, but for the past few days, when night fell, Jin Zhou would lie on the hospital bed instead, waiting for a certain person to appear.

The news of Luo Xueqing regaining consciousness was true; someone had gone to see her during the day and happened to witness Luo Xueqing’s eyes move.

In fact, the doctors were unsure exactly when Luo Xueqing would wake up, but Jin Zhou believed it wouldn’t be too long.

Since he couldn’t sleep anyway, coming to impersonate Luo Xueqing in the middle of the night would help Jin Zhou forget that he should have had a warm embrace from his Yang Shiyu.

“Creak—”

Without any warning, the doorknob of the hospital room was turned. Jin Zhou, who had been staring aimlessly at the ceiling, immediately held his breath.

The footsteps of the intruder were very light, indicating that they were wearing sneakers. The light from outside shone through the glass into the room, casting a black shadow on the blue curtain.

The person wore a baseball cap, and Jin Zhou was slightly dazed, entertaining an unrealistic thought that when the curtain was lifted, a familiar face would appear in front of him.

But the unrealistic thought quickly disappeared. The person behind the curtain raised their right hand.

From the outline of the shadow, it appeared that the person wore rubber gloves, indicating that they were fully prepared.

In the next moment, the curtain was lifted by the person. Due to Jin Zhou’s position against the light, he couldn’t see the person’s face clearly, but he knew that it was the person he had been waiting for based on the general outline.

The hand that lifted the curtain suddenly stopped in mid-air. The person dressed in black froze in place after clearly seeing Jin Zhou’s face under the heart monitor, stiff as a board.

Jin Zhou slowly sat up from the bed, reaching back and pressing the switch on the wall.

The room suddenly became bright. Jin Zhou looked at the person frozen beside the hospital bed and said calmly, “You’re here, Xie Yao.”