Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 241 The Son of an Old Friend
Zhao Wanpeng leaned back in his chair, his voice hoarse.

He didn't struggle; he simply closed his eyes and waited for the knife to fall.

But nothing happened.

He opened his eyes and saw the masked man still standing at the door, silently watching him.

"Aren't you one of those people downstairs?" Zhao Wanpeng asked.

Zhou Yi shook his head and reached out to remove his mask.

Zhao Wanpeng stared at his movements but did not react.

After a moment, he frowned and said softly, "Sorry, I don't know you."

“I am Li Jin’s son,” Zhou Yi said.

He hesitated for a moment, then added, "My father's name is Zhou Binhong."

After he finished speaking, the air froze for a few seconds.

Zhao Wanpeng looked at him, his eyes first hesitant, then as if he wanted to laugh, but in the end he only denied it lightly:
"I do not know what you're talking about."

Zhou Yi sighed, took the photo out of his pocket, and handed it over.

The moment his gaze fell upon the person, Zhao Wanpeng froze, a complex expression forming on his face.

Sadness, regret, doubt, and nostalgia all surged up at once.

After a long silence, he finally spoke: "Weren't you all... already dead?"

“I’m still alive, only me,” Zhou Yi said.

Zhao Wanpeng nodded.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he held up the photograph and examined it carefully against the light.

"what's your name?"

"Zhou Yi".

“You don’t really resemble her,” Zhao Wanpeng finally commented.

Zhou Yi was at a loss for words when asked how to respond.

A brief silence fell over the room.

The fan was whirring and clicking.

Zhao Wanpeng sighed and leaned back in his wheelchair. "What brings you here today?"

Zhou Yi looked at that unusually aged face, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he asked:
"Could you tell me the story behind this photo?"

This time, Zhao Wanpeng did not refuse.

After a moment's thought, he quickly began to speak:

"This photo is from the spring of 1988. March, I think."

“Me, your mother, Li Chengyi, and Bao Ruoyu are from Hong Kong.”

“In Virginia, we just took a walk after dinner. There was a convenience store on the corner.”

"Bao Ruoyu had only been here a short time when he insisted on buying lottery tickets."

“Your mom said he’s gone crazy and is turning into a speculator, but he still went along.”

"And indeed, Bao Ruoyu won five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars back then..."

He immediately said, "Take this and buy some lobster for us."

"Your mom happened to have a camera with her that day, so she asked the shop owner to take a 'lucky photo' of her."

"She was wearing a black coat, and the wind blew the hem of it up, making it look like it was floating."

Zhao Wanpeng paused for a moment, then looked up.

Zhou Yi noticed what seemed like a glint of water in his eyes.

"And then?" he asked.

"After that, something came up and we didn't get to eat the lobster. Your mother went back to Washington."

"A few months later, Bao Ruoyu was transferred, and we never heard from him again."

The room was very quiet.

It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat; it was chaotic.

Zhou Yi's expression was inscrutable.

"Do you know how she died?" he suddenly asked.

Zhao Wanpeng was startled and subconsciously gripped the photo tighter.

"At the end of 1992, one day, Li Chengyi came to see me and told me that she had left."

"At that time, I kept pressing him for answers, but he wouldn't say anything."

“I asked you how your father was, and he said he was gone, or even earlier.”

As for your whereabouts, I didn't dare ask. I'll just assume... assume you are...

Now that things have come to this, Zhou Yi doesn't feel too disappointed.

After all, at least one thing is certain—the mother had a deep connection with them.

He thought for a moment, then asked, "So, you don't know why she died?"

Zhao Wanpeng sighed: "She never talks to us about work."

“Every time we meet, it’s shrouded in mystery. Sometimes, I don’t even know what she’s thinking.”

He stared at the woman in the photograph, his expression dazed.

"But I know she's that kind of person. Intelligent, intense, and resolute. She's American—"

“She’s from Jinan,” Zhou Yi corrected in a low voice. Zhao Wanpeng, however, seemed not to hear and continued muttering to himself:

"—Deep down they have the ideology of communism, yet they also believe in communism. It's so contradictory."

"I don't understand her, I'm not qualified to understand her."

"I just feel that if she lives like this, something bad will happen sooner or later."

"She really did get into trouble."

Zhou Yi didn't say anything.

He looked at the old man in front of him, feeling somewhat hesitant.

Do you believe Zhao Wanpeng's "truth"?

No.

Should we then use violence to force him to confess?

The opponent's condition probably won't last much longer.

He likely died before he surrendered.

So Zhou Yi changed the subject: "And what about you? And your son? How have you been all these years?"

Zhao Wanpeng twitched the corner of his mouth slightly: "The fact that you were able to find me means you understand me pretty well."

“I want to hear what you have to say,” Zhou Yi said calmly.

Zhao Wanpeng looked helpless.

A few seconds later, he still managed to mumble it out:
"In the autumn of 1996, something happened at the company."

"The list of overseas assignments needs to be reviewed again. I know I can't go back."

"It's not that I can't go back, it's that if I go back, I'll be nothing."

"After that, I stayed and relied on the overseas Chinese leaders I knew to arrange my immigration status so I could make a living."

As for Zhao Yifei

"This may be the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life."

At this point, Zhao Wanpeng couldn't help but give a bitter laugh, looking increasingly exhausted.

"He is smarter than me, and he is also more ruthless than me."

“He took advantage of people who wanted to go abroad and get rich, and made a quick buck through P2P lending, funds, and real estate projects.”

"He understands the law, human nature, and the market; he knows a lot, but he doesn't understand how precious human life is."

“I can’t control him, he just won’t listen.”

"He knows what kind of person I am."

"He looks down on me."

He won't turn back.

Zhou Yi opened his mouth, about to say something, when a prompt suddenly appeared in front of him:
[World Code: PA-38467]

【Do you want to enter? 】

[Remaining window: 00:03:00]

three minutes.

Zhou Yi was taken aback.

Thirty days have passed since the last time I traveled through time.

During this period, one thing after another happened, making him almost forget about the system tasks.

Zhao Wanpeng remained seated in his wheelchair, turning his head to gaze at the slightly swaying curtains by the window.

"I should go," Zhou Yi said.

"I hope to see you again in the future."

Zhao Wanpeng smiled upon hearing this.

“Today is a good day,” he said, “to be able to reunite with the son of an old friend.”

"We all remember your mother."

Zhou Yi stared at the constantly ticking countdown, unable to say anything more.

Time is running out.

I'll deal with this once the mission is over.

He said "Take care" to Zhao Wanpeng one last time, and then quickly left.

The pace is fast.

Second floor.

layer.

patio.

The streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, and the lawn was slippery.

However, just as he passed the eroded and faded statue of Jesus, a sound suddenly came from behind him—

"boom!"

There was a muffled sound.

They were so familiar with each other that they couldn't be more familiar with each other.

problem occurs!
Zhou Yi was startled and instinctively drew his gun, turning around and rushing forward.

(End of this chapter)