The World Ends In 27 Days

Jingwei watched until Zeyu and Zhiyi disappeared into the crowd.

Zeyu never looked back.

Instead, he adjusted his pace to hers and remained close enough to block anyone from approaching without touching her.

The guests opened a path for them, their earlier curiosity disappearing beneath the realization that whatever had happened near the dessert table involved people they shouldn’t have been watching.

Only after Zhiyi was safely beyond the gathering did Jingwei turn around.

The two guards who had restrained her stood exactly where they had released her. Both men had lowered their hands, but Jingwei could still see exactly where they had touched her.

Zhiyi was half their size and barely a quarter of their weight.

She hadn’t struck them. She hadn’t threatened anyone. She hadn’t even attempted to run.

According to the account his guard had sent, she had tried to remain at the event by using Jingwei’s name. Somehow, two men he had trained decided that controlling her required four hands and enough pressure to leave bruises around both arms.

"President Rong," the first guard began, "she refused to leave when instructed."

The explanation might have probably sounded reasonable before Jingwei arrived.

He could see the man attempting to rebuild the sequence into something that justified his actions, beginning with Zhiyi’s refusal and carefully avoiding everything that followed.

Jingwei looked at the space where she had been standing. "Did she attack you?"

"No," replied the guard, shaking his head. "But she stepped away when I reached for her."

"One step," the third guard clarified from behind them.

The first guard’s jaw tightened.

One step had taken Zhiyi backward into the dessert table. After that, there had been nowhere for her to go.

Jingwei had studied the scene without realizing he was doing it: the table pressed against the wall, the narrow space between the silver stands and the gathered women, the white plate abandoned beside three desserts Zhiyi had never managed to carry back.

"And after that?" he asked.

The guard hesitated before admitting, "She stopped moving."

Jingwei waited for him to hear his own answer.

The man didn’t.

"She kept refusing to cooperate," he continued. "She claimed she knew you, and Miss Qiao confirmed that she entered without an invitation. We had every reason to believe she was attempting to deceive us."

Meilin stepped forward as though the reference to her had invited her back into the conversation. "She did admit it. We were trying to prevent her from embarrassing herself and the Liang family."

Jingwei turned his head.

Meilin stopped speaking, but the confidence didn’t leave her face. She still believed this was a misunderstanding that could be repaired once Jingwei understood that his employees had acted on behalf of women who belonged in the ballroom.

That belief explained more than the guards had.

The men hadn’t misunderstood the situation. They had chosen which version benefited them.

Four well-dressed women had offered them an opportunity to appear decisive. Zhiyi had been alone, physically smaller and unable to provide the name of the person who brought her without exposing information she wanted to protect.

Listening to her would have required patience. Verifying her place card would have required walking eighteen meters.

Restraining her had allowed them to look powerful in front of an audience they wanted to impress.

Jingwei had trained both men himself.

He had corrected their stances, reviewed their field assessments and stood beside them during operations where blood had soaked through clothing before anyone reached a hospital. He knew how quickly they could clear a room and how accurately they could identify a concealed weapon.

Apparently, he hadn’t known what either man would do when they wanted the attention of a beautiful woman.

"You thought she was lying," Jingwei said, slowly nodding his head. "That explains why you verified her identity."

Neither guard answered.

"You checked the seating plan, reviewed the entrance cameras and spoke to the employee assigned to the gate," he continued.

The first man’s face changed as each omitted step became more obvious.

"We didn’t have time to complete a full investigation."

"And yet, you had enough time to put your hands on her," pressed Jingwei.

The guard looked down.

Jingwei shifted his attention to the man who had sent the message.

Of the three, he had recognized that something was wrong. He had seen the bruises forming, questioned his coworkers’ conclusion and contacted Jingwei when no one else would.

He had also remained several steps away while they continued hurting her.

"Why did you message me?" Jingwei asked.

The third guard glanced toward his coworkers before answering. "Her behavior didn’t match what they were saying. She wasn’t causing a disturbance, and she seemed certain that you would confirm her identity."

"So you believed there was enough doubt to contact me."

"Yes."

"But not enough to tell them to take their hands off her."

The man’s expression emptied.

Jingwei understood hesitation during an operation.

A person could die because someone moved before confirming a threat. What happened here hadn’t required that calculation. There had been no weapon, no unstable crowd and no danger beyond the possibility of offending Meilin and her friends.

The third guard had known the restraint was unnecessary. He had simply preferred to let Jingwei assume responsibility for stopping it.

Training could teach a man where to stand, when to move and how to break another person’s hold.

It couldn’t teach him whom to consider worthy of protection when no superior was present to make the choice for him.

Jingwei had bled beside these men.

That had shown him what they could endure. It hadn’t shown him what existed inside their heads or their hearts.

"Remove your earpieces and identification," he ordered, his eye briefly closing.

The first guard looked up sharply. "President Rong—"

"You no longer work for me."

Color drained from all three faces.

The man who had sent the message reached for his earpiece first. He understood there was no defense available to him.

The other two remained still until Jingwei looked at their hands, and then they began removing the equipment carrying his company’s insignia.

Meilin’s confidence finally wavered.

"You can’t blame them for believing us," she said. "We were only concerned because Zhiyi has been behaving irrationally. She left her family, moved into some man’s home and appeared at an event where she doesn’t belong."

"She was invited by Liang Shichen," Jingwei announced, his voice leaving no room for questioning or doubt.

The words ended every whisper around them.

Jingwei watched the information strike Meilin before continuing. "Her name is on the seating plan. She entered with the five men seated beside her, including me. The only people who decided she didn’t belong here were the four of you."

Meilin stared at him.

Her friends had already begun stepping away from her, but the movement came too late to matter.

They had called security together, supplied the accusations together and watched without objection while Zhiyi was restrained.

Jingwei gestured toward the third guard’s radio. "Contact the replacement team. Have these women escorted from the property."

The woman in pale green opened her mouth, but Jingwei’s attention had already left her.

He looked once more toward the path Zhiyi had taken.

Hanchuan had refused to place outsiders inside their shelter. Jingwei had understood the security risks but privately believed trained personnel could be evaluated, controlled and trusted within defined limits.

He had believed his own men would be different.

Tonight, two of them had bruised a motionless girl to impress four women, while a third watched because intervening carried more personal risk than sending a message.

Jingwei had known how every one of them performed under fire.

He had never known what they would do when they believed no one important was watching.