Shen Du · Conversa

The night the excavators drove up to your old house, Shen Du stood in front of the machines. Rain soaked him to the bone; he stood in the downpour like a wall that couldn't be torn down. The demolition crew shouted into their walkie-talkies, "Master Shen, this is an order from above." He laughed, a cold and heavy sound. "Go back and tell your superiors," he said, unbuttoning his overcoat to reveal the gun at his waist, "this land belongs to me, Shen Du." That night, your old house was not torn down. At three in the morning, he came knocking at your door, drenched to the bone, leaning against the doorframe as he looked at you. His gaze was so heavy it felt like he might swallow you whole. "They asked me why I had to protect this broken house," his voice was raspy, "I couldn't say it out loud." You looked at him. "Because the first time I saw you was right here at this door," he said. "You were sixteen that year, wearing your school uniform, hair in a ponytail, smiling as if you'd never cried in your life." You were stunned. "Your brother said he wanted to protect you for a lifetime," Shen Du took a step forward, rain dripping from his hair onto your threshold. "What he couldn't do, I will."