Evening.
It was eight o'clock.
Inside Dong Xuebin's business suite at Wangfu Restaurant, Chen Xuekai raised his head. His aged hand gripped Dong Xuebin's arm tightly as he looked at him.
"For the country, for Little Zhong, I'm begging you."
"All right, I'll give it serious thought."
"I'll wait for you in the hotel lobby. Come find me once you've made up your mind."
"Come on, Academician Chen, it's too late. You should head back today."
"I'm worried about Little Zhong. I won't be able to sleep if I go back anyway. Think it over. I'll be outside, and I can wait as long as it takes."
After saying that, Chen Xuekai trembled as he made his way out. Dong Xuebin hurriedly supported his arm and saw him out, thinking, You say you're not forcing me, but isn't this exactly what you're doing?
For the country—those words weighed heavily on Dong Xuebin's shoulders.
What could possibly carry more weight than that? At least, Dong Xuebin could think of nothing.
After closing the door, Dong Xuebin walked back into the room alone. He opened the window and breathed in the crisp air outside, growing more conflicted by the moment.
One cigarette...
Two cigarettes...
Three cigarettes...
He thought of Han Jing's sobs.
He thought of Zhong Lizhen's uncertain fate.
He thought of an old scientist bowing before him.
Dong Xuebin sighed, crushed out his cigarette, rubbed his head, then slapped his forehead hard. Wasn't this making things difficult for him?
Forget it!
So be it!
Dong Xuebin had already made his decision. He let out a breath and stopped overthinking it. Opening the door, he took the elevator down to the hotel lobby.
First floor.
The lobby.
It was quite late, and there was almost no one left in the lounge area.