“You’re sweating and vomiting constantly. What else would that mean?” He gave Xiaokai what was almost a reproachful look. “Is it contagious?”

“No. And I’m not sick. I’m just under the weather.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Xiaokai had a headache.

“So does he know you’re under the weather, then?”

What was Weiran now, Xiaokai’s confidant? Sure, maybe he’d felt a little lighter after talking to him about things that he didn’t get to talk about with anyone else, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to share everything. Sharing things wasn’t going to help him sleep better, anyway. “How should I know? He probably thought I left earlier than him, just like I always do.”

Weiran seemed to accept this as an answer. He nodded a few times and typed something on his computer.

“Anyway.” Xiaokai reached for his briefcase and pulled out a thin folder. “I said I met Chen Jun after I agreed to work with the two of you. I wasn’t able to get much, but I copied over the information before I gave it to Sun Yue. Maybe you can make some sense of it.”

Weiran reached over to take the folder. “You don’t know what it means?”

“Like I told you yesterday, the majority of Chen Jun’s influence in the List is his command of the organ trafficking business. It’s probably related to that, but I didn’t have the time”—or the energy, but Xiaokai wasn’t about to say that—“to figure out all of the terms he uses. You’ll probably figure it out a lot faster.”

Weiran was already flipping through it, his eyes moving down the lines. He had a slight grimace on his face.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well…my hanzi isn’t very good.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Weiran looked a little guilty. “Don’t worry, though. I can figure it out. I know how to look things up in a dictionary and know stroke order, and all that.”

Xiaokai checked the time. He had half an hour before he needed to be in the other room and showered. “If I read it to you, will you understand?”

“I—yeah, maybe.”

“What about a digital file?”

“That would be better.”

“I’ll send you the digital file tonight, then. If you can’t make any sense of it by our meeting tomorrow, we can go over it together.”

Weiran blinked at him.

“Understood?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

Xiaokai nodded and stood, picking up his briefcase. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“You’re—you’re going right now? Why don’t we just go over the file now?”

“I have an appointment.”

“An—” Weiran grimaced again, but for a different reason this time—disgust. “Oh. Okay.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.”