No miracle occurred. The moment Mrs. Su opened the door to room 101, Gu Hao and she squeezed in together, disregarding the awkwardness of their bodies touching. However, the living room was empty. Mrs. Su rushed into the bedroom, emerging with a darkened face, her eyes and mouth drooping.
She turned a questioning gaze to Gu Hao. He merely spread his hands and shook his head. “When I came yesterday, her school uniform and backpack were here. Now it seems…”
Mrs. Su slowly moved to the sofa, sat down, and covered her face, breaking into loud sobs.
Gu Hao stood silently for a moment before turning to leave. He first glanced at the locked door of room 102, then exited the building, circling it once, not overlooking even the flower beds behind.
Finding nothing, he walked to the cement pavilion in front of the building. He sat down heavily on a bench, removed his backpack, and took out his water bottle and bread, slamming them on the table in frustration. He lit a cigarette, and spread his legs, resting one hand on his knee, his eyes scanning the road ahead.
Waiting. Stubbornly waiting. Just like when he was a security officer, waiting for thieves with their sacks. I don’t believe I can’t wait out this damned girl!
Gu Hao smoked one cigarette after another. Soon, several cigarette butts of varying lengths appeared at his feet. Yet his anger didn’t diminish. He found himself cursing under his breath, unsure at whom to direct his fury.
The Su family? Ma Na? Su Lin? Or the unknown roommate he had never met?
After smoking through half a pack, Gu Hao had to admit that he hated himself the most.
Most anger in this world stems from one’s incompetence.
He had underestimated the complexity of this situation and regretted not waiting longer at the rainwater storage pool yesterday. Otherwise, at this moment, he might have been calmly discussing plans with a well-fed and rested Su Lin, instead of hopelessly waiting here for the child to return home.
Indeed, Gu Hao didn’t expect Su Lin to appear on this road. She must have figured out the path out of the drainage network long ago. If she had been willing to come home, none of the subsequent events would have happened. But besides sitting in the pavilion and waiting, Gu Hao didn’t know what else he could do.
Moreover, he suddenly realized there were too many mysteries surrounding this child. He began to doubt whether it was appropriate to view Su Lin as a weak, helpless little girl. The situation was more complex than he had imagined, and so was Su Lin. He couldn’t fathom her thoughts—making Gu Hao realize that finding her might only be the beginning.
The auditorium of the Fourth Middle School had returned to its emptiness. The actors sat sparsely in the rows near the stage, not daring to make a sound, watching Principal Dong, Teacher Zhou, Ma Na, and the mother-daughter pair of Jiang Yushu and Jiang Ting standing in the aisle.
Principal Dong was in a rage, waving his hands wildly. “I’m asking you, why did you let her go? Why did you disobey my orders? Answer me!”
Jiang Ting stood straight, still wearing the red long dress. She kept looking towards the stage, a faint smile on her face as if she hadn’t heard the principal’s questions at all.
Jiang Yushu, however, looked terrified. She tugged at her daughter’s sleeve. “Tingting, the principal is asking you—answer quickly.”
Jiang Ting slowly turned to her mother, still wearing that dreamy expression. “Mom, it was her.”
Jiang Yushu was stunned for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Really? You saw her?”
“Mm-hmm.” Jiang Ting nodded. “I knew what she wanted to do. Then…”
An increasingly radiant smile appeared on her face. “Then, I helped her.”
Jiang Yushu looked at her daughter, suddenly pulling Jiang Ting into her arms and stroking her hair.
“Mom, I’m so tired,” Jiang Ting murmured, burying her head in her mother’s chest. “I want to go home.”
“Alright. Let’s go home.”
Jiang Yushu steadied her daughter, patted her face, and took her hand, turning to leave the auditorium.
The mother-daughter dialogue left Principal Dong baffled. Seeing them about to leave, he stammered, “Is that it? What kind of attitude is this?”
Jiang Yushu turned back. “Principal, I’m sorry. I’ll come to explain personally another day.”
Ma Na suddenly screamed, “You can’t leave! This isn’t over!”
Jiang Yushu turned her gaze to Ma Na, staring at her for a few seconds before saying slowly and deliberately, “You must be Ma Na, right? Listen carefully: if you dare trouble Jiang Ting again, I won’t let you off!”
With that, she took Jiang Ting’s hand and strode towards the exit.
Yang Le, watching Jiang Ting’s retreating figure, smiled. “Principal, if there’s nothing else, can we leave too?”
The irritated Principal Dong waved his hand. “Go, go.” Then he added, “Don’t discuss this matter, and don’t talk about it with other students!”
The actors began to leave their seats, heading backstage. Teacher Zhou, who had been silent until now, spoke up. “Principal, then I…”
“Teacher Zhou, what’s going on here?” Principal Dong had finally found a target. “You’re the one in charge of this English play. Such a big mess, you must give me an explanation!”
“As far as I know,” Teacher Zhou thought for a moment, nodding towards Ma Na, “this should be a personal grudge between Ma Na and that girl.”
“Bullshit! You’re pushing the responsibility onto me?” Ma Na’s eyebrows shot up, her fluffy chestnut curls seeming about to explode. “You fucking chose them all! One stole my dress, the other was an accomplice!”
Principal Dong shouted sternly, “Ma Na! How dare you speak to a teacher like that?”
“It’s true!” Ma Na didn’t hold back at all. “Is he even a man? A coward! When something goes wrong, he just dumps the blame on the students!”
Teacher Zhou’s expression remained calm, just frowning as he looked at Ma Na, shaking his head. “It seems you haven’t learned anything from the last incident.” He turned to Principal Dong. “Principal, I’ll make a copy of the video recording for you. Let me report the details to you later.” With that, he took the camera from the rack and slowly walked backstage.
Only Principal Dong, Ma Na, Song Shuang, and Zhao Lingling remained in the auditorium. The principal put his hands on his hips, panting heavily for a moment before looking at Ma Na again.
“You girl, you’ve gone too far.” He pointed at Ma Na, who stood with her arms crossed, looking askance. “Don’t think that just because your father and I are friends, you can do whatever you want.”
Ma Na rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it’s not my fault. But someone must be punished for ruining my performance.”
“Who do you think you are? ‘Someone must be punished’?” Principal Dong waved his hand. “Enough, I won’t waste words with you. Tell your father to hurry up and arrange for you to study abroad. Our school can’t accommodate a big shot like you!”
Ma Na turned on her heel and walked towards the backstage.
In the rehearsal room, only a few students changing clothes remained, discussing what had happened during the performance. Seeing Ma Na and her two friends enter, they all fell silent, ignoring them. Ma Na scanned the room; besides them, only Teacher Zhou was in the cabinet, fiddling with the camera. Yang Le was nowhere to be seen.
Ma Na’s mood worsened. She strode towards the girls’ changing room, kicking the door open, and turned back to shout at Song Shuang and Zhao Lingling, “Wait for me here!”
Song Shuang and Zhao Lingling looked at each other, stuck out their tongues, and obediently stood guard outside the changing room door.
Ma Na roughly took off her mermaid skirt, throwing it violently to the ground. Then she saw the blue and white school uniform in the corner. Without a doubt, it belonged to that trash. Ma Na’s anger flared instantly. She rushed over, cursing loudly while stomping on the uniform as if it truly contained a living body.
After venting her anger, she put on her clothes one by one, then took her handbag and gathered the scattered cosmetics on the table.
Suddenly, her expression turned puzzled. She took out a folded note from her bag and opened it.
The note seemed to be torn from an exercise book, with slight fraying at the edges. It contained a line of handwritten text in pen.
“I’ll wait for you at the school gate at 7 tonight. I want to talk to you in detail about what happened last time. Yang Le.”
Ma Na examined the note several times. Finally, she folded it and put it back in her bag, her earlier bad mood largely dissipated.
Male, origin unknown. Age between 35 and 40, height around 180 cm, weight about 70 kg. Has some intellectual disability, unclear speech, and limited communication ability. Makes a living by collecting and selling garbage, habitually wears a green military coat, and carries a canvas shoulder bag. The main activity area is in the Kuanping District of this city.
The simulated portrait showed a deeply furrowed face, looking much older than his actual age. The eyes were vacant, showing more numbness and indifference from years of hard living than any spark of intelligence.
Wang Xianjiang walked briskly towards a shelter made of woven fabric under the overpass. A homeless man with dirty, messy hair, squatting outside the shelter eating a cucumber, stood up nervously, staring at him.
Wang Xianjiang asked directly, “What’s your name?”
The homeless man stuttered, “Zhang… Zhang Deli.”
“Where are you from?”
“Henan, Xiuwu in Henan.”
Clear speech. Normal thinking.
Wang Xianjiang looked him up and down. The homeless man grew more panicked, slowly backing away. “Officer, is it not allowed to stay here anymore? I’ll pack up my things right away…”
“It’s fine, you can stay here.” Wang Xianjiang took out the simulated portrait. “Have you seen this person? He’s also in your line of work.”
The homeless man leaned in to look for a few seconds, then shook his head. “No impression.”
Wang Xianjiang turned his head to look at Tai Wei, about fifty feet away. He was questioning a few other people leaning against a bridge pier, sunbathing. From their reactions, it seemed Tai Wei had also come up empty-handed.
Wang Xianjiang cursed under his breath and walked towards the jeep. Opening the door and sitting in the passenger seat, he noticed Tai Wei still standing in place, his gaze sweeping over the lazy group of people. Wang Xianjiang grew impatient and slapped the car door hard. Tai Wei looked over at the sound. Wang Xianjiang waved at him. “Hurry up, get in!”
Tai Wei walked slowly to the jeep, his face still thoughtful.
“Let’s go to the dump near Xiaomin Village,” Wang Xianjiang said, opening a map. “I heard most of these scavengers gather there. We might find some leads.”
Tai Wei didn’t respond, his hand resting on the steering wheel, lost in thought.
Wang Xianjiang started to get angry. “What the hell are you daydreaming about?”
“It’s not that, Master.” Tai Wei snapped back to reality, his brow furrowed as if desperately trying to remember something. “Why do I feel like I’ve seen this person somewhere before?”
“That’s normal,” Wang Xianjiang gestured for him to start driving. “People like this are everywhere. Any news from Old Du?”
“So far, all the people tested are from District B, and none match,” Tai Wei sighed. “Should we ask Old Du to hurry it up?”
“No need. This thing is all about luck.” Wang Xianjiang’s face showed no disappointment. “I have a feeling we’re not far from him.”
“Mm.” Tai Wei nodded. “With so many people being tested, if we’re lucky, he could be the first one; if we’re unlucky, he might be the last.”
“Exactly,” Wang Xianjiang pursed his lips. “We’ll know in a day or two.”
As he finished speaking, the pager at his waist beeped. Wang Xianjiang took out the pager and glanced at it.
“Pull over, it’s a call from the bureau,” Wang Xianjiang pointed to the roadside. “Annoying, when will they give us mobile phones?”
Tai Wei complied, parking the jeep by the roadside, watching as Wang Xianjiang jumped out of the car and jogged towards a public phone booth.
A few minutes later, Wang Xianjiang slowly ambled back. This time, it was his turn to wear a pensive expression.
“What’s the situation?” Tai Wei, noticing his grim face, asked before Wang could even settle in. “Any new leads?”
“Kuanping Precinct contacted headquarters,” Wang Xianjiang said, his gaze fixed ahead and expression serious. “That homeless man frequently appears in their jurisdiction. People at the steamed bun shop and convenience store have seen him. However, he’s been scarce lately. A scrap dealer reported that a few days ago, he came to sell a bunch of junk, bloodied and battered as if he’d been in a fight. And…”
“And what?”
“Guess what this guy’s biggest expense at the convenience store is, besides food?”
“Can you stop being cryptic?”
“Candles.”
“Candles?” Tai Wei raised an eyebrow. “What does he need so many candles for?”
“It means wherever he’s living has no light at all.” A mysterious smile played on Wang Xianjiang’s lips. “What does that suggest to you?”
Tai Wei’s eyes suddenly widened. “He’s living in the sewers?”
She had never seen the real ocean. As a child, her parents had taken her and her brother to North Lake Park in the city. That artificial lake was the largest body of water she had ever seen. She often imagined the endless expanse of blue sea water, the surging waves, and the red sun rising from the horizon.
At high tide, it rushed towards the land, unstoppable; at low tide, it receded, leaving behind an empty beach and countless secrets.
She thought, if her heart were an ocean, right now it would probably be at low tide.
After bursting out of the auditorium, she ran straight to the sports field, took out her backpack from under the concrete steps, leaped over the wall from the top of the steps, and sprinted away.
She knew many people were curiously watching this girl in a pristine white dress, carrying a backpack, wondering why she was running so joyfully.
Indeed, she wanted to stop and tell them how happy she was. It was because of the warm weather; because of the restless vitality within her; because of that long-forgotten exhilaration.
She knew that her pursuers had been left far behind. But she didn’t want to stop. If possible, she would have kept running like this forever.
She could feel the taut muscles in her calves, the rebound of her white sneakers on the asphalt, her heart pounding violently in her chest, the refreshing wind on her face…
All of this made her so happy.
Run, run.
By the time she reached Victory Park in the city center, she was finally out of strength. Squeezing through the bustling tourists, she barely managed to move to a pavilion behind some artificial rocks. She plopped down on a stone bench, gasping for air like a dying fish.
The coolness quickly spread from her lower body to her torso and arms, and her sweat-soaked body soon turned cold. As her body temperature dropped rapidly, she felt the fire in her chest gradually collapse and finally extinguish completely.
She sat there, dazed. The effects of severe physical exertion were reflected in her body. She didn’t even want to move a finger, just maintaining the same posture, motionless, as if her mind was blank.
She sat like this until nightfall, when the lights came on.
The clamor in the park gradually disappeared. The few remaining visitors hurried along, no one noticing the girl in the pavilion who seemed like a wooden or clay statue.
Only when the night had completely enveloped the artificial mountain and pavilion did she turn her eyeballs, barely moving her stiff body, and let out a long sigh.
She knew that the frenzy and excitement that had lasted for several hours had completely vanished. Even recalling Ma Na’s face twisted with anger wouldn’t stir her emotions now. More prevalent was a deep sense of loss and bewilderment. The thrill of revenge had only made her happy for such a short while—this left her very unsatisfied.
However, a more pressing question lay before her: What should she do next?
When she was in the “room,” she had lied to Vincent. She didn’t plan to go back and meet up with him, and then leave together. She didn’t belong to this city, didn’t belong to this drainage network, and certainly didn’t belong to Vincent. Since she wanted to make a clean break from the past, it had to be done decisively, leaving no attachments. Otherwise, she would never be able to say goodbye to her former self. Just like how she had unhesitatingly discarded that blue and white school uniform—from today on, she was no longer Su Lin, and this white dress she wore could testify to that.
“Leaving” is two characters, one word, or an action, a posture, simultaneously meaning an unpredictable future. Although it sounds intriguing, it also harbors various unknown risks. For instance, wearing only a white gauze dress at this moment was quite inappropriate—the coolness of the night had already made her start to shiver.
She stood up and walked unsteadily towards the park exit. Although her future was uncertain, she first needed to go to a place that would allow her to leave.
Half an hour later, she walked to the city’s train station. Despite it being evening, the station was still bustling with activity. She had never traveled far, let alone taken a train. After wandering in the square in front of the station for a while, she headed towards the two-story building marked “Ticket Office.”
The ticket hall was equally crowded with travelers. At the same time, vendors selling various foods weaved back and forth through the queues of people buying tickets. She immediately smelled the tempting aromas of grilled sausages, boiled corn, and instant noodles. Her empty stomach immediately protested. She realized that she hadn’t eaten a grain of rice or drunk a drop of water since last night. The hunger and thirst, temporarily suppressed by obsession and excitement, now surged forth. She felt the cold buns in her backpack, looked at the long queue in front of the ticket window, and decided to fill her stomach first.
She looked around the ticket hall and walked towards the hot water room.
The hot water room was outside the restroom, containing nothing but a water boiler and a large trash bin. She put the plastic bag containing the cold buns on top of the water boiler. Then, she expertly walked to the large trash bin and started rummaging through it. Soon, an empty can appeared before her eyes. Just as she was about to reach for it, another hand snatched it first.
She was startled and instinctively turned to look, finding a middle-aged man wearing a worn-out moss-green woolen coat, a cotton hat, and carrying a large woven bag standing beside her.
Her mind went blank as she stared at the man with dirty, long hair and a dark face. He was equally scrutinizing her, his face full of suspicion, as if he couldn’t believe this clean high school girl could be his peer.
“You…” he hesitantly held out the empty can to her, “Do you want this?”
“No,” she swallowed the word “Vincent” that had almost reached her lips. “I don’t want it.”
He gave her a puzzled look, tossed the empty can into his woven bag, and left amidst the crisp sound of collision.
She stood silently by the water boiler for a while, licking her chapped lips, then mustered the courage to peek into the trash bin again. Seconds later, she pulled out a crumpled disposable paper cup, smoothed it out, rinsed it repeatedly under the tap, and filled it halfway with cold water.
After mixing in some hot water from the boiler, she drank the warm water in one gulp, refilled the cup, picked up the buns, and walked towards the long queue in front of the ticket window.
As she slowly moved forward with the queue, she bit into the buns and sipped the hot water. The buns, briefly heated by the hot water in her mouth, were no longer rock-hard but still cold and greasy. Too hungry to be picky, she swallowed them whole, then used the hot water to ease the discomfort in her stomach.
The vagrant who resembled Vincent walked back and forth in the ticket hall, occasionally picking up a flattened cigarette butt, and smoking it while eyeing the plastic water bottles in travelers’ hands. Her gaze remained fixed on him, silently repeating that name in her mind.
Would he have cooked the noodles and been anxiously waiting for her return?
How long would it take for him to accept that she had completely disappeared?
Would he miss her, and what would he think of her?
Anger? Resentment? Or disappointment?
For a moment, she felt herself almost wavering.
Why leave?
Why hurt Vincent?
Would she ever meet someone who would treat her so wholeheartedly again?
She lowered her head, looking at her still dazzlingly white sneakers, biting her lip hard.
At this moment, the person in front of her left the ticket window. The ticket seller sat behind the glass, looking at her with a tired face.
“Where to?”
She was stunned, then blurted out, “Dalian.”
This was where she wanted to go to see the ocean.
The ticket seller checked and said, “No tickets left for today. Is tomorrow okay?”
She immediately felt relieved. “Yes, that’s fine.”
All her cash was just enough for the cheapest hard seat ticket. When she got the small ticket in her hand, she carefully put it in her backpack and turned to walk out of the ticket hall.
She believed this was fate, believed this was a chance given to her by heaven.
She and he had met unexpectedly. But now, she could say a proper goodbye to him.
Perhaps because she was eager to return, or because her goal was clear, the journey back didn’t seem as long. She soon walked onto that familiar street, lifted the manhole cover, and quickly descended into the underground world.
The unpleasant yet familiar smell hit her. She held onto the iron ladder, standing silently in the darkness for a moment. She reminded herself again that she was only here to say goodbye, not to think too much.
There were still candles and a lighter in her backpack that Vincent had prepared for her. She hadn’t expected to use them again; she had only taken them to make him believe in the nonexistent “see you later.”
However, the moment she raised the candle, she felt a sense of ceremony. She suddenly realized that walking alone in the drainage network with a candle like this was probably the last time. Perhaps she should firmly remember everything before her eyes—this place that had taken everything from her, yet allowed her to start anew.
She didn’t know if she would see Vincent again. All she could do was not forget.
Passing through the branch pipe, she soon reached the main pipe. The closer she got to the “room,” the faster her heartbeat. She was eager to see him, yet had to face the inevitably disappointing outcome. How could she make him calmly accept the reality that she must leave? Or how could she comfort him so that he wouldn’t feel so hurt? As she was thinking, she turned a corner and suddenly saw a faint candlelight ahead. She inwardly cheered. That silhouette was so familiar. However, she immediately stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening.
What was he carrying on his shoulder? Even in the dim light, she could make out the dangling arms and long hair. Increasing doubt and fear crept into her mind—what was Vincent doing? Why was he carrying an unconscious woman?
She blew out the candle and quietly followed him. After a few minutes, the “room” appeared in the distance. A beam of white light, much brighter than candlelight, shone through the open circular iron door. Her confusion deepened—was someone else in the “room”?
Vincent entered through the iron door. She carefully inched along the pipe wall. Just as she was about to step inside, she heard a thud of something heavy hitting the ground. Then, another man’s voice spoke up.
“Did anyone see you?”
She immediately retreated, crouching beside the iron door. Her heart raced—that voice…
Vincent mumbled something that sounded like “No.”
“Then let’s begin,” the man said. “First, take off her clothes. Then do whatever you want, like before. You still have the wire, right? Don’t kill her too quickly this time. Let her suffer a bit longer.”
She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Cautiously, she peeked into the “room.”
The pipe between the iron door and the “room” obstructed most of her view. She saw a blinding white light and a man’s silhouette flickering in the glow. Vincent stood with his back to her, head bowed, seemingly looking at the woman on the floor.
The man grew impatient: “What are you waiting for? Hurry up! The camera’s running out of battery!”
Vincent hesitated, then raised his head and shook it gently.
“No. I can’t.”
“You can’t? Why not?” The clear response surprised the man. “You could before, why not now?”
Vincent mumbled for a while, his accent becoming unclear again.
“What blue? Little Blue? Who’s Little Blue?” the man raised his voice.
Vincent shook his head while backing away, muttering incoherently.
“You want to leave? Didn’t I tell you to go?” The man seemed angered. “I’ve paid you. You must finish this job before you go!”
Vincent appeared frightened but continued inching towards the stairs. As he took a step, she saw him suddenly raise his arm. Almost simultaneously, the sound of a breaking bottle echoed in the “room.”
The man, now furious, picked up nearby objects and hurled them at Vincent.
“I fucking let you play with women, give you money to spend. And you just fucking leave?”
Vincent clumsily deflected the objects while retreating up the stairs, his muffled voice sounding like both an apology and a plea.
She felt a chill run through her body and ran from the iron door. Not far away was a branch pipe. She tiptoed, steadying herself against the pipe wall, and sprinted about ten meters before reaching the pipe entrance.
Without hesitation, she climbed in. Crouching and crawling a few meters, she turned around, squatting and watching the main pipe.
Soon, Vincent’s footsteps approached. Despite the pitch darkness, his movements were unaffected. She heard him quickly pass by her hiding place in the branch pipe, gradually fading away.
She was about to stand up when she heard the man’s roar: “Come back here, you bastard!”
Startled, she quickly crouched down again. A series of hurried footsteps echoed in the main pipe. A beam of light appeared at the branch pipe entrance, growing brighter.
She held her breath, pressing her body lower. Seconds later, the flickering light beam flashed past the pipe entrance—the man with the flashlight ran by, seemingly chasing Vincent.
Only when the footsteps disappeared did she shakily stand up and slowly walk out. Back in the main pipe, she looked towards the “room”—it was now pitch black.
She glanced in the other direction, hesitated, then took out a lighter and candle from her backpack.
She needed to find Vincent and get answers face-to-face.
Night fell. The bi-weekly weekend allowed people more time to rest and recuperate. As the weekend ended, most faced six consecutive days of work ahead. This evening served as a buffer before mustering the energy to start anew. Consequently, the streets were sparsely populated, allowing Wei Tai’s Jeep to move unimpeded.
He and Xianjiang Wang had circled this area several times. The homeless man, whose suspicion as a suspect had suddenly increased, was still nowhere to be found. Wang was gradually losing patience. The feeling of an impending case breakthrough grew stronger.
Wei Tai, however, appeared doubtful and remained silent. After returning to a particular street, he slowed down and turned to Wang.
“Master, should we—”
Wang, frowning, pointed ahead: “Keep searching.”
Wei Tai dared not argue. He pressed the accelerator, and the Jeep sped away. After a few hundred meters, a red light appeared at the intersection. Wei Tai stopped the car behind the stop line, glanced at Wang again, and mustered the courage to ask, “Master, should we try a different approach?”
Wang’s expression remained neutral: “Just say what’s on your mind.”
“Do you think that homeless man is the killer?” Wei Tai hesitated. “He doesn’t seem to match the characteristics we deduced for the suspect.”
Wang was silent for a few seconds: “We’ll know once we apprehend him.”
The light turned green. Wei Tai stepped on the gas and pondered: “Should we check underground?”
“What do you mean?”
“If that guy lives in the sewers, he must have a somewhat suitable living environment, at least not too terrible,” Wei Tai gestured downwards. “We’ve been down there. There aren’t many habitable places.”
“Do you have the rainwater pipeline network planning map?”
Wei Tai was taken aback and shook his head: “No. Shall we go down and take a look tomorrow?”
“No, I can’t wait,” Wang firmly rejected the idea. “Call that Mr. Chen from the planning institute.”
“Master, we don’t have any equipment,” Wei Tai’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s not advisable to go down there unprepared, is it?”
“Bullshit!” Wang scoffed. “Your godfather is several years older than me, and he can go down there. Why can’t I?”
Wei Tai slapped his forehead: “You’re right! I completely forgot about him. I’ll ask him later.”
“By the time you get answers, it’ll be too late,” Wang pointed diagonally ahead. “Pull over.”
“Huh?”
“I said pull over, so do it,” Wang had already opened the door. “He should be living in the sewers around here.”
Before the car had fully stopped, Wang jumped out and quickly walked to a nearby manhole. He bent down to look at the inscription on the cover.
“Rainwater well.”
He crouched down, forcefully lifted the cover, and peered inside. Then, he extended one leg into the hole.
Wei Tai, who had also gotten out of the car and followed him, saw him eager to descend and quickly tried to stop him.
“Master, wait,” he turned and walked towards the Jeep. “I’ll get a flashlight.”
After taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, staring across the road. Wang, sitting on the edge of the manhole, thought he was stalling again and was about to scold him, but he swallowed the curse in his throat.
About ten meters away, under the streetlight, a man with messy hair wearing a green military coat was hurriedly approaching. Judging by his height and build, he looked quite similar to the homeless man. Moreover, his hands were empty, giving the impression of someone fleeing rather than collecting garbage.
Wei Tai stared at him and suddenly shouted, “Hey, stop right there!”
The homeless man was startled and instinctively stopped, looking at Wei Tai. The streetlight illuminated him from above, making him appear like a lone mime on a stage. The three men silently stared at each other across the road. Wang quickly stood up, his heart suddenly racing.
Wei Tai crossed the road, with Wang close behind. They approached the homeless man and looked him up and down. The man appeared nervous, his back hunched and eyes darting around.
Wei Tai glanced at Wang, who was examining the small unhealed wounds on the homeless man’s face. Wang’s expression hardened, his eyes gleaming. This excited Wei Tai as well—the facial features also matched.
“What’s your name?”
The homeless man hesitated for a few seconds, then mumbled something unintelligible that sounded like a foreign name. However, the unclear accent further convinced Wei Tai of his judgment.
Damn, could we be this lucky?
“Come with us,” he reached for the homeless man’s arm. “We’re the police.”
The word “police” seemed to trigger something in the man. Before Wei Tai could touch his sleeve, the homeless man turned and ran.
Wei Tai didn’t have time to think and immediately gave chase. Despite appearing dull and stupid, the man moved quite nimbly. In an instant, he had already put some distance between himself and Wei Tai. Gritting his teeth, Wei Tai sprinted, closely pursuing him.
Wang, however, struggled. When he saw the homeless man flee, he instinctively started to chase. But after running just a few dozen meters, he found himself out of breath, his lungs burning intensely. He had to slow down, keeping his eyes fixed on the two increasingly distant figures while shouting hoarsely, “Da Wei, don’t let him escape!”
At this point, warnings like “Stop!” or “Don’t move!” were utterly useless. All three men knew that unless he could escape, a life-or-death struggle would ensue. Wei Tai held his breath and charged towards the homeless man, leaping to tackle him. However, just as he grabbed the man’s military coat, he was shaken off. Wei Tai tumbled awkwardly onto the road, scrambled to his feet, and watched helplessly as the homeless man crossed the street towards the cultural square opposite.
As he inwardly cursed his luck, two bright beams of light suddenly appeared in the distance. A speeding car emerged at the street corner. A wave of intense fear swept over him. He futilely stretched out his hand, as if trying to prevent what was about to happen, but…
The car drove straight towards the homeless man who had reached the roadside. With a deafening crash and screech of brakes, the homeless man was flung several meters, his body striking a streetlight pole before crumpling heavily onto the road surface.
Wei Tai knelt on the road, staring blankly at the motionless figure curled up under the streetlight, his mind completely blank. Wang ran past him, shouting “What the fuck are you looking at?” as he sprinted towards the homeless man.
Wei Tai shakily stood up and staggered towards them. The streetlight pole was still swaying, its light flickering on the road surface. Wang crouched beside the homeless man, forcefully turning his body over. His limbs were bent at odd angles. In the dim light, the man’s face was barely distinguishable—his eyes half-open, his face scraped, with blood gushing from his mouth.
Wang frowned, slapping the man’s face: “Hey, can you hear me? Wake up, don’t sleep!”
The homeless man’s head lolled lifelessly with each slap, his gaze slowly becoming unfocused.
Wang cursed and turned to Wei Tai: “Call an ambulance! Now!”
Wei Tai agreed verbally, but his body wouldn’t move. He looked around dazedly, his vision seemingly empty. He didn’t notice a man rubbing his forehead getting out of the car, nor did he see a hand covering a mouth and a pair of eyes slowly sinking back into an open manhole not far away.