But this place was different.

This was the Virgin Islands.

A Caribbean paradise where the wealthy played and the elite ruled. The home of the richest of the rich. Crime, if it existed, rarely made a ripple.

Yet this evening, in the quiet of its detention center, there was but one detainee.

A young man of Chinese descent.

He appeared somewhat slender, especially compared to the obese middle-aged American guard, making any clothes on him look slightly oversized, which lent him an elongated appearance.

He wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses, which almost covered half of his face but didn’t make him look nerdy. Instead, he exuded a comforting, understated presence with an air of Eastern mystique.

He would take the food tray and water from the guard’s hands and quietly say thank you. His manners appeared well-cultured, which Lily found quite appealing.

Lily, a new policewoman at the Virgin Islands detention center, had just transferred from the Chicago Police Department. She had blond hair and green eyes. She wasn’t beautiful, but these features made her look sexy and confident.

“Old Mike, why did he shoot Kiefer Sutherland?” She asked, flipping through the case file. “Was it really because of rape?”

The middle-aged guard across the table, with a belly big enough to rival his waist, smirked, “It was actually a gang rape. They found two types of semen in his underwear.” He spoke between bites of his hamburger.

Lily’s green eyes widened, “Besides Kiefer, who else?”

Old Mike raised an eyebrow, “Heard it was old Donald.” As he spoke, he seemed to bite into something unpleasant. He cursed, tossed his half-eaten burger into the trash under his desk, and wiped his mouth.

“You mean Duke Sutherland?” Lily looked at Old Mike with disbelief.

Old Mike shrugged. “They say father and son took him together. Believe it or not, up to you. You girls always think you can just strut around the Virgin Islands and snag some rich boy with a villa on the Caribbean coast with your tits. Missy, don’t buy into that crap. If the drugged-up Black junkies in Chicago disgusted you, these white aristocrats in the Virgin Islands will make you sick. Real sick.”

Lily felt a bit embarrassed and replied, “I don’t think like that…” Then she flipped through the files again, only to exclaim in surprise, “Strange, he seems to have acquaintances here in the Virgin Islands. Hmm, Daniel Cruz, he wants to bail him out, why did he refuse?”

Old Mike took a sip of his coffee and said, “You know who this Cruz is…”

Lily’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait… You mean that Cruz family…?”

Old Mike raised an eyebrow and nodded, “He even got the whole team from Davy Law Firm to handle the case, and Seven refused that too.”

“Why?!” Lily’s voice shot up in disbelief, completely forgetting she wasn’t supposed to discuss an inmate’s private affairs so loudly.

Old Mike glanced at her reprovingly but still satisfied her curiosity, “Imagine if your so-called boyfriend brought you to the Caribbean, drugged you, and sent you to someone else’s bed, then left you owing millions in legal fees. Would you be willing?”

Lily gasped, “No!”

Old Mike nodded, then dropped another bombshell, “And those two men were your father and half brother whom you’ve never met.”

This time Lily couldn’t even scream. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling a chill and shivers down her spine, “Why would this Daniel do that?”

“Why?” Old Mike let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe because Old Donald just handed over the development rights to Virgin Coral Island to the Cruz family. That’s a billion-dollar untouched island. This kid was probably part of the celebration package, something a little extra besides champagne. Or maybe it’s just one of those aristocratic pastimes. Either way, it’s definitely not out of friendship.”

Lily withdrew her stunned gaze and stared at the file in front of her, muttering, “Seven… no wonder he doesn’t have a surname… God… he’s only seventeen.”

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Old Mike quickly pulled his legs off the desk and signaled for Lily to sit back down.

The door opened, and two men walked in. The first was a bald-headed chief, followed by a man with black hair who looked of Irish descent, his face a bit gaunt but sharp, exuding a tough vibe.

“Andy Watters, the lead attorney from Davy Law Firm, is here to bail out the inmate, Seven.”

Although she was new, Lily knew well enough that the bald-headed chief had a nose like a bloodhound, always sniffing out a person’s worth. His eagerness revealed the visitor’s considerable status.

Old Mike hesitated, “But Seven has already made it clear that he does not want to be bailed out!”

Before the bald-headed chief could speak, Andy Watters stated calmly, “Give me one minute, I will persuade him.”

Seeing the suggestive look from the chief, Old Mike reluctantly took out the keys, and unlocked the door. Andy strode to Seven’s cell and declared, “Seven, I’m here to get you out.”

Seven was sitting on the hard bed, bending his knees. He neither responded nor turned around.

Andy took a deep breath. “This time it’s completely free, I won’t send you a bill afterward, you can be assured!”

Seven slightly turned his head, glanced at him, but still did not respond.

Andy shook his head, pulled out a gold pen from his pocket, and took a piece of letter paper from his briefcase. He wrote a few lines against the wall and then handed it through the bars, saying, “A written promise, this should do it, right?”

Seven stepped off the bed.

Only then did Andy realize he wasn’t short at all but rather tall and lean. He reached through the bars, took the paper, carefully read it over, folded it meticulously, and slipped it into his pocket.

This carefulness was typical of the Chinese Andy knew. But what caught his attention the most was Seven’s hands. They were remarkably beautiful.

——-

Andy stepped out of the police station, the salty moist breeze from the Caribbean greeting him. He stopped in front of a stretched Cadillac and said to the person inside, “He’s agreed to the bail, but… he says he doesn’t want to see Rong Qing. Who is Rong Qing?”

The person inside paused for a moment before stepping out of the car, saying lightly, “That’s me, my Chinese name. You all… just drive back in this car.”

Andy sighed. “Daniel, others might think you’re doing this for the real estate contract, but I know you did this for revenge. You’ve dragged me into it too, so what now?”

The Daniel in front of him looked every bit the educated, well-mannered aristocrat. With his soft black hair, robust features, and a mix of Chinese and Portuguese descent, he was tall and had a less imposing presence than Andy but carried a gradual, insidious type of pressure that demanded respect.

“How is he?” Rong Qing asked, looking down at his hands which were long and well-maintained, like those of any upper-class gentleman.

Andy glanced at those hands and replied, “Very normal… extremely normal. He can eat and drink, just not sleep.”

Rong Qing chuckled lightly, “Is that so? Well, at least he has learned to suffer from insomnia. He used to sleep so well.”

Andy raised his eyebrows in resignation, “OK, are you suggesting you want to continue this revenge? Daniel, you really don’t need to go through all this trouble. With Old Donald’s connections in the Virgin Islands, he would be locked up for at least ten years.”

Rong Qing pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands and then coldly said, “Just do what I asked you to do, and don’t worry about the rest. I’ll pay you your lawyer fees. You can be sure of that.”

Andy was momentarily taken aback, then said, “Daniel, if it weren’t for our time together in the Cheetah Training Squad, I really would…” He suddenly felt it meaningless to continue and retracted his words.

With self-deprecating humor, he added, “I’m worried about you… you say it’s about revenge, but deep down, you still want to clasp that kid’s hand!” Andy suddenly remembered those hands. Long, without superfluous knuckles, neatly trimmed nails, pink and round, yet unmistakably masculine, which stirred something within him.

Rong Qing didn’t respond but turned and walked away.

Seven got into the car with Andy, followed by two armed bodyguards. Andy noticed that the young man’s face showed no sign of being affected.

As the car started moving, Seven said, “I don’t want to go to that villa. Please take me to a hotel.”

Andy laughed coldly, “Who do you think you are, kid? Be sensible. In the animal kingdom, some are cheetahs, some are cattle and sheep. You know, for a cheetah, it’s not the slowest one that triggers its hunting desire but the one that desperately runs.”

Seven adjusted his glasses and said calmly, “Thanks for your stray dog theory, but that person has already asked you to accommodate me as much as possible. Sadly, you don’t live in the animal world. At least there, no one pays a cheetah to be a doorman.”

Andy paused, his face twitched, and he said, “You have a sharp tongue, kid. Alright, then you can stay in my room.”

Seven turned his head and said nothing.

Andy looked at his profile, his short jet-black hair, the elegant curve of his ear, and the same beautiful chin. Suddenly, he felt a playful urge and asked, “How should your name be read in Chinese? Hmm… How did your mother call you? Seven… Little Seven… Qi Qi?”

Seven suddenly turned his face, his voice low as he said, “Please call me Seven!”

“OK, OK!” Andy shrugged.

The five-star hotels on the Virgin Islands were plentiful, but Andy was staying in a six-star luxury hotel. From there, he had a view of the entire Caribbean Sea, watching the rise and fall of the tides. The hotel also had a private beach.

The soft sand, the pure white beach.

Andy turned to Seven, who was standing on the terrace, and asked, “Want to go down for a walk?”

He had already showered, and the faint scent of shampoo lingered in his black, damp hair, which the wind blew through.

“I want to go online. Is it okay?” Seven half-turned his head, glancing at the laptop on the glass table through the floor-to-ceiling window.

Andy glanced at him and said, “Whatever.”

Seven didn’t say anything more and turned back.

Andy watched for a while and saw that he was browsing some Chinese websites.

Though Andy was fluent in Chinese, he wasn’t particularly interested in spending time browsing websites or playing online games, so he walked over and took a seat in a chair near the fireplace to look through some materials.

The two didn’t speak, only the sound of Seven’s quick typing on the keyboard and Andy turning the pages of his papers filled the air.

Later that night, the dinner brought in by Daniel’s bodyguard was flawless. A top-tier experience, from wine to steak. Andy was pleased to enjoy such a meal after a busy day.

Feeling in a good mood, he thought it was necessary to offer some words of guidance to Seven.

“Seven, sometimes being too stubborn only makes life harder for yourself. Daniel may have hurt you, and yes, I admit it is a kind of pain that not many could endure. But maybe this is also an opportunity to heal, to get closure. I can tell you, Daniel regrets it. Knowing him, he definitely does. All you need to do is ask, and I believe he would be more than willing to make it up to you.”

Andy said as he cut into his steak, “Think about it, in two years, who besides you will even remember this? Don’t be stubborn. Do you really want to end up with nothing but a record from a juvenile detention center? You have to face reality!”

Seven had already finished the bread on his plate. He picked up his plate, placed the several-hundred-dollar-an-ounce steak in front of Andy. “I see you like steak more, I’ll take your bread.”

Without waiting for Andy’s approval, he took the bread and began eating it while he went to the computer.

Seeing his earnest advice dismissed and catching a hint of disdain through Seven’s large glasses, Andy felt a twinge of irritation. This subtle contempt, unnoticed by most, unsettled him. As a senior lawyer, he was long accustomed to the respect his position commanded.

“Don’t dirty my computer, kid!” he called out and turned to look at the bloody steak in front of him. The sight suddenly made him lose his appetite, and he threw his fork down in annoyance.

He walked over to Seven and said, “You need to rest! We have to discuss the case tomorrow. The court session is the day after!”

Seven finished the bread in his mouth. “I can’t sleep.”

Andy was silent for a moment. He was a tough, unfeeling man, never one to be swayed by emotion. But today, unexpectedly, he felt a twinge of compassion. “Then don’t stay up too late. I’ll sleep on the couch outside.”

Watching his figure completely disappear, Seven rubbed his eyes, worked on the computer a bit longer, and then, exhausted, collapsed onto the plush, oversized king-size bed. He turned off the bedside lamp and stared at the pitch-black ceiling. Though he expected another sleepless night, exhaustion took over, and he soon drifted into a deep sleep.

In his dream, firm, warm hands held his, fingers tracing each line of his palm. A voice, belonging to the same gentle touch, whispered,“Shall I give you a surname, Rong Qi?”

He guarded himself against everyone, but how could he guard against the one who had given him a surname?

The scene was just as it had been that day, the same words spoken exactly as before. But no matter how vivid the dream, his heart could never return to what it once was.

That same gentle voice suddenly turned cold and unforgiving.“You despicable thing. He gave everything for you, yet you left him alone in the hospital morgue for a whole year, allowed him to be cut into pieces. I want you to repay everything he gave…”

The voice shattered into echoes.

“My name is Rong Qing… Nice to meet you.”
“My name is Rong Qing… Nice to meet you.”
“My name is Rong Qing… Nice to meet you.”

Rong Qing… A name that once meant trust, now a demon’s sneer, mocking him with every echo.