SES Chapter 38 V1

Chapter 38

Why couldn’t it have been his mother? Sometimes, blood ties don’t equal real affection.

Luo Ren was silent for a moment. Back then, he’d felt a surge of satisfaction—revenge, even—but thinking about it now, the feeling had faded. There was no hatred left, but no love either.

Indifference was probably the better word.

Mu Dai, however, mistook his silence for sadness. She sighed and tried to comfort him. “Sometimes that’s just how it is. I’m not much better off, you know. Auntie Hong adopted me—my mom left me at an orphanage.”

Luo Ren glanced at her in surprise. He’d always known she’d been adopted by Huo Zihong, but he thought she’d been too young to remember anything about being left behind.

But she remembered.

“I can’t remember her face anymore. Just that she held my hand while we walked. She was wearing a pair of black leather heels, the kind with broken rubber soles, and she walked with a limp. I kept staring at her feet, worried she’d trip. Then she took me to a big gate, handed me a peach, and told me to sit still. She said she had errands to run and told me not to wander off.”

Mu Dai let out a long sigh and lay back down again.

Later on, Auntie Hong had asked her about it, but she hadn’t remembered much. Children’s memories work in strange ways—they latch onto odd little details. Like those worn-out heels. Or that… peach.

It was a honey peach, soft and pink, with a fruity aroma. It had been washed clean. She cradled it in her hands and didn’t want to eat it. Every so often, she’d lift it to her nose, take a deep breath, then swallow back her saliva.

She didn’t eat it because she wanted to wait for her mom. She thought if she saved the first bite for her, it would show she was well-behaved—and maybe then her mom would love her more.

Why had she thought that way?

She sat on the stone step outside the orphanage gate, holding the peach from sunset till dusk. The orphanage workers came out again and again, but she refused to go inside.

Eventually, the woman in charge came out and tried to coax her. “We’re friends of your mom. She said you’ll be staying here tonight.”

Trying to be clever, Mu Dai asked, “If you’re my mom’s friend, then what’s her name?”

…

In the end, she went inside. But she clung to that peach like it was a treasure. Wouldn’t let anyone touch it. She even slept with it under her blanket. Took it with her to the bathroom, afraid someone might steal it.

Eventually, the peach rotted. She thought it had gotten sick, so she gave it a pillow, tucked it in with a blanket, and even mimicked how her mom used to soothe her to sleep. She gently patted the covers and whispered like a doctor, “Just take your medicine and you’ll feel better.”

But it still rotted. So she took it and, step by step, threw it out. Juice smeared all over her hands as she tiptoed to the trash can and tossed it in.

She didn’t cry—not a single tear. But after that, she developed an allergy to peaches.

And later on, she could tell the story like it was just a casual secret, something you only share with a close friend—an “I-only-tell-you-this-because-we ”re-close” kind of thing.

She must’ve been a sweet kid. Who could bear to abandon a daughter like that?

Luo Ren sighed quietly.

Mu Dai asked, “So what happened after? Your family wouldn’t take you in—did Luo Wenmiao help you?”

Luo Ren burst out laughing. “You think I’d let that happen? Back then, I was proud, full of fire. There was no way I was going to go crawling back to Ping Ting like some whipped dog, begging Luo Wenmiao to take me in. I was an adult.”

“I did something that, looking back, was dramatic. But at the time? Man, it felt good. After that phone call, I ripped up my passport right in front of my friends and said, ‘Screw it, I’m not going back.’”

Mu Dai stared at him, stunned. He gave her a definite nod. “Seriously. I lived in Southeast Asia for four years. Mostly in the Philippines.”

Mu Dai stammered, “That must’ve been… hard, right?”

No passport. No legal ID. No way to get a proper job. Just like the undocumented migrants in TV dramas—washing dishes, scrubbing plates, underground boxing matches… doing all the backbreaking jobs locals wouldn’t touch.

Wait a minute. She remembered a customer at the bar once saying the sex industry in Southeast Asia was booming, for men and women alike. Could it be that Luo Ren…?

The thought horrified her. She had to get it out of her head. There was only one way: ask directly. “What… what did you do over there?”

This time, Luo Ren was silent longer than ever before.

Just when Mu Dai was about to crack from the suspense, he finally spoke.

“I was hired by a local private armed group. I was a mercenary.”

Mercenary?

She’d heard of that—usually connected to Iraq or the Middle East. It sounded like a whole different world to Mu Dai.

Luo Ren smiled. “You probably don’t know much about the Philippines.”

It was a different world. The country had been plagued by government-rebel conflict for over 40 years. More than 150,000 people had died from violent incidents—kidnappings, armed fights, extremism. Especially in the southern regions, where wealthy overseas Chinese and tourists were often targeted. Rumor had it that due to police corruption, some officers even colluded with kidnappers. Many locals had so little faith in the authorities, they’d rather hire private protection than call the cops.

That’s how armed private groups emerged. Compared to the kidnappers who demanded tens of millions in ransom, these groups still charged a lot, but it was more reasonable. They often went toe-to-toe with kidnapping gangs, sometimes in firefights as intense as small-scale wars.

These mercenary groups recruited retired foreign special forces, but also civilians and fugitives—anyone who could survive brutal training.

Mu Dai stood there, speechless, piecing together the timeline. “So… you came back because something happened to Ping Ting’s family?”

Luo Ren shook his head. “No. I came back before that. I pissed off the wrong people over there. Couldn’t stay.”

Pissed off the wrong people? Who?

Compared to Luo Ren’s story, her frustrations and gloom from earlier seemed almost weightless.

In the darkness, he felt like someone from another world. Mu Dai instinctively shrank back a little.

Luo Ren gave a bitter laugh. “Sometimes, carrying a secret makes you feel closer to someone. But once you say it out loud, it feels like it pushes you apart.”

He closed his eyes. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”