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墨書 Inktalez
The cold air from the freezer hit my face, and the frost on my eyelashes stung my eyes. As I folded the Pregnancy Test Report for the third time, the convenience store's surveillance screen suddenly erupted in static. Zhou Yi's pupils constricted sharply as I caught a glimpse of Su Ya's trembling hand sneaking an embryo sample through the gap in the shelves, reminding me of Mother clutching a fast-acting heart pill in her final moments.
"Whiskey." The sharp sound of the glass bottle cap popping off startled the alarm. Zhou Yi's movement to snatch the bottle tore at his bandages, and blood-stained gauze fell onto the lead letters spelling "Fetal Abnormality." As he tilted his head back to drink, the sound of his Adam's apple rolling echoed like a bullet being chambered, amber liquid flowing down into the old scars on his combat uniform, soaking the platinum cufflink Lin Yichen had given him until it swelled.
The smart lock at Lin Family Villa emitted a sharp buzz, and Zhou Yi kicked the electrical box with enough force to shatter the crystal chandelier. In the darkness, his fingers tied my scarf with a gunpowder scent, while the flame from a windproof lighter illuminated the corner of the staircase—there lay a pregnancy test stick on the pearl collar of a wedding dress, two red marks resembling bloodstains made by Su Ya's freshly manicured sharp nails.
"I was in Singapore last Wednesday." Lin Yichen's voice message was wrapped in airport announcement static, sparks from the platinum cufflink on the coffee table splattering onto the Fetal Heart Monitor screen. The green dot flickered more urgently, and I suddenly realized that the shadow of a bullet fragment in Zhou Yi's palm overlapped grotesquely with the ultrasound image.
When the doctor hung up for the third time, Zhou Yi was disassembling a Glock 17. A cotton ball smeared with gun oil brushed against the bloodstain I had coughed onto a tissue that morning, while "Already Sterilized" in my call log pixelated and faded away, reminiscent of Mother's will with its still-wet red fingerprints.
The brittle crack of a broken twig exploded against my eardrum as Zhou Yi shoved me into a sweet gum tree hollow with such force that my lower back throbbed. His elbow strike to an assailant's throat startled an owl into flight, and a Tactical Dagger embedded at just the right angle in the tree trunk blocked a steel ball aimed at my abdomen. Counting seven new knife wounds on his back, I noticed their arrangement matched precisely with the order of inheritance in Lin Family Tree.
"Are you cold?" As his Bulletproof Vest enveloped my trembling knees, the blood-soaked shirt felt scalding against my lower abdomen. Zhou Yi's singed hair brushed against my lips as he defused explosives; in the distance, Su Ya's mink shawl crackled against high-voltage wires, its burnt scent mingling with her signature perfume invading my nostrils.
The moment Lin Yichen's video request lit up, Zhou Yi suddenly grasped my wrist where an IV needle was inserted. His calloused thumb rubbed over the bruised injection site repeatedly; on the surveillance screen, blood-stained wedding dress circulated at an auction house while Su Ya's jade bracelet shattered into glass shards within an embryo culture dish, each piece reflecting her distorted face.
The Military Emergency Blanket released scents reminiscent of 1995 Lafite as Zhou Yi stitched up wounds with catgut thread that glimmered coldly like Lin Yichen's cigar. His collarbone dipped with rainwater; I tasted salt and iron on my lips and realized it was from that torrential rain on Mother's suicide day—her magenta silk scarf fluttering atop a twenty-sixth-floor air conditioning unit like a soul-calling banner.
As they removed the body, Zhou Yi slipped a deformed bullet into my palm. The engraving of Lin Stock Code pressed against fetal movements; remnants of gunpowder mixed with miscarriage medication tasted rusty and sweet at the root of my tongue. Amidst the metallic clinks of him changing magazines, I felt on the back of the Pregnancy Test Report blood-drawn Bulletproof Vest Design Blueprint; those intersecting lines resembled Mother's electrocardiogram before she passed away.
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