Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

Scorpion's room was more than twice the size of White Night's.

Although it was also in the basement of the courtyard, the floor here was tiled, the walls were painted white, and there was a cot in the corner with a wooden table and a chair next to it. On the table were a few well-worn books and an ashtray, and the warm yellow light cast a soft glow in the small space.

Scorpion led Bai Ye into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click as the latch engaged. He walked to the table, picked up an enamel mug, poured some warm water from the thermos, and handed it to Bai Ye.

Bai Ye didn't answer immediately. He stood in the center of the room, looking down at his blood-stained hands. Most of the blood had dried, forming a dark red scab between his fingers. A layer of dried blood film covered the back of his hands, and dark residue was embedded in his fingernails.

He wasn't trembling, but his breathing was shallower than usual, as if something was pressing down on his chest.

Scorpion pushed the cup forward again, the rim touching Bai Ye's fingers: "Drink some water first. Calm down."

Bai Ye took the cup, his palm touching the warm enamel surface, his fingertips curling slightly. He lowered his head and took a sip, the warm water sliding down his throat, the warm sensation spreading from his esophagus to his chest. He took two more sips, then held the cup in his hand, not drinking any more.

Scorpion pulled out a chair and sat down, taking a cigarette pack out of his pocket and twirling it in his hand without lighting it. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on Bai Ye's drooping head, and after a long while, he spoke: "You look a lot like someone I know."

Bai Ye looked up at him: "What?"

“I know a man.” Scorpion’s voice was a little lower than usual, and his speech was slower. “His fighting style is clean and efficient, and he thinks very fast. He usually seems calmer than anyone else. But he loses control once he sees blood. Once, he killed someone on a mission, and then he couldn’t stop—he wiped out the entire enemy squad. After he finished, he was still standing there with his knife, covered in blood, and his eyes were empty.”

Bai Ye didn't move. His fingers tightened slightly on the enamel mug, then relaxed. His gaze fell on a blurry spot on the table, as if he wasn't looking at anything, but simply giving his eyes a place to rest.

"What happened to that person afterward?" Bai Ye asked.

Scorpion held a cigarette in his mouth, not lighting it, but biting the filter in silence for a moment: "Disappeared. Never returned after a mission. Nobody knows if he's dead or alive, nobody knows where he went."

After saying those words, Scorpion didn't continue, as if he had pushed that memory back to where it belonged. He picked up the lighter from the table, stood up, and pushed the chair back under the table.

"You'll be spending the night here," Scorpion said. "The bathroom is at the end of the hallway on the left, and there's hot water. Your room probably isn't a good place to stay this afternoon—my place is soundproof, and Viper's men won't be knocking on my door."

Bai Ye looked up at him, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something.

Scorpion waved his hand, silencing him, and walked straight to the door. He paused before opening it, without turning back, and said, "Take a shower first, wash off the blood. I'm going out for a smoke. You should be calm by the time I get back."

The iron gate closed gently behind him, and the sound of footsteps faded away along the corridor.

Bai Ye stood in the room, still holding the enamel mug in her hand.

He glanced down at the bloodstains on his hands—the dried, dark red blood cracked between his fingers like a glove that had been worn for a long time and was beginning to peel off. He put the cup on the table, turned and walked towards the door, finding the bathroom at the end of the corridor in the direction Scorpion had indicated.

The water was hot, and steam filled the small bathroom. Bai Ye stood under the water jet, letting the hot water pour over him from head to toe. The water washed away the blood on his face, hands, and neck, leaving pale red streaks that flowed down the drain. He watched the red water meander across the floor tiles and disappear into the drain, as if something was being slowly washed away.

He washed for a long time. Long enough that the hot water started to cool down, long enough that the scabs between his fingers softened and fell off, and the water washed the crevices under his nails clean.

He turned off the tap, dried himself with the old towel hanging in the corner, and put on the clean T-shirt that Scorpion had folded by the door—it was too big, the shoulder seam slipped down to his upper arms, and the hem covered his mid-thighs. He glanced down at himself in his clothes and thought it looked a little ridiculous, but he had nothing else to change into.

When he returned to the room, Scorpion had not yet come back.

Bai Ye walked to the cot, bent down, and sat on the edge of the cot for a moment.

Sleepiness came faster than he expected. After taking a hot shower, he felt completely relaxed. Some of the tension and suppression he had felt in the afternoon seemed to have been washed away by the hot water, leaving behind a heavy sense of fatigue weighing on his limbs and eyelids.

His head rested against the wall, slowly sliding down until it finally slumped onto the pillow.

When Scorpion returned, he had already smoked two cigarettes.

He gently pushed open the door and saw the figure huddled on the bed in the dim light of the corridor.

Bai Ye lay on his side, face to the wall, curled up in a small ball. His hair wasn't completely dry, with a few strands of dark hair clinging to his neck. The T-shirt Scorpion had given him was too big; after he fell asleep, the collar had slipped loose to one side, revealing a clean section of his collarbone and shoulder.

Scorpion stood at the door for a moment, then clicked his tongue softly, his voice extremely low, as if talking to himself: "...That kid is really carefree. He slept like a log the first time he stayed in my room. Doesn't he worry I'll sell him in the middle of the night?"

Scorpion gently closed the door without turning on the light.

He dragged the wooden chair from the corner of the wall and sat down not too close to the bed, leaning back against the chair, his long legs crossed and stretched out, his hands resting on the armrests. His gaze fell on the figure curled up on the bed, silently watching in the darkness, like a stone statue.

The faint moonlight filtering through the window cast a narrow, grayish-white strip on the floor. The heating pipes occasionally emitted a soft, clicking sound.

In the distance, there were faint sounds of footsteps and the low noise of a radio in the courtyard, but they were far away, separated by two walls. The figure on the cot was breathing evenly and deeply, as if truly asleep, curled up on someone else's bed without any defenses.

The scorpion leaned back in the chair, motionless.

He had intended to sit on the sofa and close his eyes for a while, but the distance was just right for him to react instantly to any movement. So he didn't move, just sat there, quietly watching over the sleeping boy in the darkness, like a silent boundary marker standing between the bed and the doorway.