Chapter Text
In retrospect, Zhou Zishu thinks, she should have expected this. Looking her in the eyes, Zishu laughs. I’m so fricking blind.
Zhou Zishu is a name that wouldn’t particularly mean much to anyone.
“I’m sorry, who?”
An easily forgettable face, along with a generic and bland personality to boot. She blends into crowds of other a little past their quarter-life crises, overworked, and chronically sleep-deprived slaves to capitalism. A regular, unremarkable pencil-pusher, easy to overlook.
Everyday, Zishu heads to a cafe on 45th street, and the barista already has her regular order ready, a muffin and medium cup of hot coffee, for take out. She hops on her motorcycle and arrives at the office building at exactly 8. She giving perfunctory nods to her co-workers as she heads towards her cubicle, where she stays for the rest of the work day, not even leaving it for lunch. Within those 9 hours, she reviews company accounts, calculates costs and benefits, and compiles them into a report. She knows no one and talks to no one. Why bother with false niceties and facades? Not that others haven’t tried to talk to her, per se. She had better things to do.
Helian Yi is no shadow, rather he was the opposite. Helian Yi is a beacon of light, a young, promising, and innovative man. When he arrives, he doesn’t take up the entirety of the room suffocatingly, rather, he brings a certain shine to it. A politician, oozing charm, charisma, and confidence in any setting. He is the future of the country, and Zhou Zishu will move mountains to make that a reality, no matter the cost.
In the dead of the night, she meets him in alleys, secluded parking lots, dilapidated buildings, and abandoned graveyards. She waits patiently. Sometimes it’s him, sometimes it’s a subordinate. Either way, it’s all the same, a simple exchange. File. Name. Gun. Eliminate. Repeat.
She parks her bike at least 4 blocks away from an old, deserted hospital. Avoiding surveillance cameras, she walks there at a unassuming, languid pace, with dark clothing, sunglasses, and a hat obscuring her identity. She arrives at the dilapidated property, looking at the untamed weeds littering the cracks in the driveway. The place has as an atmosphere of unsettling gloom, and despite herself, she shivers slightly. God, I hate the cold. The late December air was biting. She tugs her coat tighter around her middle, slightly hunched over. The hospital itself is a wreck- its roof caved and the red-brick foundation crumbling, vines curling around stone. Nothing lasts. Nature eventually reclaims everything. It’s probably been years since anyone else has last been here.
A non-descript black sedan with no plates enters the driveway, stopping in front of her. The car door opens, and Helian Yi comes out, walking towards her, his trademark, ever-present, million-watt smile almost blinding her.
“Zishu!”, he greets her, “How have things been?”
His suit is perfectly pressed, without a single wrinkle. It’s almost 11pm and Helian Yi still looks presentable, lively, and seemingly unaffected by the frosty chill in the air. Zhou Zishu scoffs internally. She runs a hand through her messy locks, a half-assed attempt at fixing it. She straightens up and clears her throat awkwardly. She feels like shit and probably looks like shit.
“Everything is in order, sir.”, she replies in a monotone. “This subordinate reports that all operations this month are either completed or are on the verge of completion.”
“And Beiyuan?”
Her throat tightens, she swallows. “Taken care of last night, by me personally.”
“No complications then. Good, good.” He hums, pensive. He cracks a bright smile, almost enthusiastic if not for the lack of warmth in his eyes. “Can’t you feel it, Zishu? We are almost there.” He claps a hand on her shoulder, and she resists the urge to flinch. “Aren’t you proud of yourself? Of the light the Window of Heaven you bringing into this world?”
She gives him a stiff smile. “Of course, sir.”
It’s too much. She rushes home, unlocking her door as fast as possible and stumbling inside. She shuts the door, almost slamming it, then locks it. She sinks to the floor, face in her hands. Dear god, her head hurts.
Beiyuan. I killed Beiyuan.
Jing Beiyuan was her best friend. And she killed Beiyuan. She killed her best friend. Her only friend.
She had warned her. She hadn’t listened, refused to listen, blinded by her devotion to Helian Yi.
Zishu storms into Jing Beiyuan’s penthouse, and Beiyuan barely has any time to greet her before she aggressively lets herself in. Zishu had a crazed air about her, clearly in a panic.
“Zishu...?”
Zishu rushes to Beiyuan’s bedroom, and pushes the door open with a force that almost makes it fly off it’s hinges. She haphazardly grabs items from her antique vanity and piling them up on the king-sized bed. Beiyuan’s bed was the best, honestly, with its soft, sweet-smelling duvet and fluffy pillows, it does wonders for one’s back. If it was another day, Zishu might have let herself lie down and sink into the sheets. But not today. Not now. Maybe never again.
“Hairbrush... yes definitely. What else.. Clothes, clothes!”
She dashes towards her closet and starts pulling clothes off their hangers and stacking them on her left arm before going back and dumping them on the bed too.
“Zishu! Enough! What are you doing?!”
“I-“
“You’re making a mess! Is this even your own house you’re messing up?!”
“You”, she pants, “need to leave.”
Beiyuan was outraged, “How dare you shoo me out of my own-“
“It’s not that!”, she says hysterically, a desperation clear in her tone.
“Then what?!”, she demands.
Zishu pulls herself together. “Beiyuan. Leave, now. He’s got a hit on out on you. He thinks you betrayed him- or are planning to betray him. He’s wary of you, and you know what he’s like when he’s suspicious.”
Jing Beiyuan laughs and shakes her head disbelievingly. “That’s what this is about?” She reassures her, “He wouldn’t do that, not to me, Zishu.”
Beiyuan tries to pull her into her embrace but Zishu resists, opting to grab her shoulders and shake her forcefully. “Look at me. You’re my friend, that’s why I’m giving you a warning.”
Beiyuan turns her head away. Zishu hisses, “Heck, you know him better that I do. Do you really think he’ll show mercy? Especially when his ambition’s on the line?”
Beiyuan pushes her away, a unwavering fire in her eyes. “You said it yourself.”, she counters, harsh and defiant. “I know him
better than you do.” She lets out a soft exhale, and her face softens, almost smiling, but not quite. “I have done nothing wrong, nor do I plan to double cross him. I’ve given my all in helping him realize his goal. I can’t abandon that, and never abandon him.”
Zishu persists, “I have it all ready. A fake body, passports, new identity, a ticket to the Bahamas! You can can escape!”
Beiyuan pats her shoulder smiling serenely, eyes crinkling warmly. Zishu deflates, knowing nothing else can be done. “Don’t worry, my friend. If there’s another life, I’ll drink with you, and we won’t go home until we’re so drunk that we’ve forgotten our names.”
Zhou Zishu wants to scream.
How do I make you see?
Love does seem to make people blind.
Deep breaths. One... Two... Three...
She opens her eyes, her breaths now mostly even. She slaps herself, and the sting from her palm helps bring her back to reality. Tears escape from the corner of her eyes and roll down her cheek, she wipes them away harshly.
No. She doesn’t have time for this. There is no room for guilt in here. No room for doubt. She chose this. The path for the greater good. The path to the future.
She stands up, smoothing out her shirt and pants. She strides towards the large kitchen island, reaching for a tall blue stool, and taking a seat. I don’t even cook, why the fuck do I have a kitchen? She reaches into her bag, and pulls out the file that Helian Yi gave her earlier that night. She spreads its contents out on the smooth marble surface.
Liang Family. Father is Liang Chen, born July 12, year 1967. The current Secretary of Trade and Industry, like his father and grandfather before him. Nepotism, definitely. Mother is Xu Linyi, born year 1970. A socialite with dozens of media articles placing her at many high class galas, charity balls, and other such events. Their only daughter is a recent journalism graduate, currently working at a famous newspaper publication.
Zhou Zishu looks at the photo of the daughter closely, feeling a sense of deja vu. Ridiculous.
They live in a relatively affluent neighborhood, with some tight security. Tch, that’s gonna be a challenge. She starts formulating a plan.