Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Fang Ming squinted slightly, scrutinizing me. "What is your source of information? How can you guarantee its authenticity?" His tone was steady, yet carried an imperceptible pressure. Chen Yan stood beside him, arms crossed, silent but with his gaze constantly roaming over me, as if trying to see through me.
I lowered my eyes, my fingertips gently tapping against my knee as I feigned deep thought. "I... I used to be a friend of a victim's family," I paused, seemingly organizing my words. "I overheard some crucial conversations by chance, but... out of fear, I never dared to reveal..." I lifted my head, a hint of pleading in my gaze. "If the police can ensure my safety, I am willing to tell everything." The room was quiet, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall, which made the atmosphere even more tense.
Fang Ming exchanged a glance with Chen Yan, seemingly communicating silently. Fang Ming turned back to me, his tone softening slightly. "Why don't you start by telling us what you know?" He pulled a small recording device from his pocket and placed it on the table.
I took a deep breath and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper from my bag, handing it to Fang Ming. "This is... this is some dialogue I secretly noted down at that time..." My hands trembled slightly, fingertips turning pale. The paper had become somewhat damp from being held for too long, and its edges were curled.
Fang Ming took the paper and examined it closely. It contained some vague names and locations, written hastily in a scrawl that suggested urgency. Fang Ming furrowed his brow and passed the paper to Chen Yan. Chen Yan took it and scrutinized it as well before snapping a photo of its contents with his phone. The air in the room felt as if it had solidified; only our breathing was clearly audible.
Chen Yan noticed several small scratches on my hands, varying in age and resembling marks left from long-term labor, which contradicted my claim of being a friend of a victim's family. He quietly noted this detail in his mind, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes. Outside the window, night deepened, occasionally interrupted by distant car horns that broke the silence of the ward.
Fang Ming tucked the paper away and looked at me. "We will consider your request," he paused before continuing, "We will arrange for officers to increase patrols near the rehabilitation center to ensure your safety." His calm tone made it difficult to discern his true thoughts.
Hearing Fang Ming's promise eased my anxious heart; my tense body gradually relaxed. "Thank you... thank you..." I murmured softly, gratitude lacing my voice.
Fang Ming stood up, preparing to leave. As he reached the door, he suddenly paused and turned back to look at me meaningfully, curiosity flickering in his eyes. I felt uneasy under his gaze and instinctively avoided eye contact.
Without saying a word, Fang Ming turned and left the ward, with Chen Yan following closely behind. As the door closed behind them, silence returned to the room. I walked to the window and watched their figures disappear into the night before letting out a long sigh.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands still trembling slightly. I took out a cup from my bag and poured myself some water, drinking it down in one go. The cold water slid down my throat, providing some comfort. Leaning against the headboard, I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself.
Outside in the hallway, footsteps echoed. I opened my eyes warily and glanced toward the door. A nurse entered pushing a food cart and placed a dinner tray on my bedside table.
"Miss Li, here is your dinner," she said gently.
I nodded in thanks as she left. After she was gone, I didn’t touch the dinner but instead walked over to the window and drew back the curtains.
I confirmed once more that Fang Ming and Chen Yan's police car had vanished into the night; the streetlights cast an eerie glow over the empty road.
Turning back into the room, I dragged out a pre-prepared duffel bag from under the bed. Quickly stuffing neatly folded clothes and some essentials into it, I heard the metallic teeth of the zipper rasping softly.
Then I pulled out a new SIM card and a lightweight backup phone from beneath my pillow and skillfully inserted the card before powering it on.
I changed out of my hospital gown into ordinary clothes—a dark blue hoodie and black jeans—putting on a baseball cap and mask that covered most of my face except for a pair of slightly weary eyes.
I quietly opened the ward door; the corridor was deserted except for dim lights activated by motion sensors that illuminated just enough space beneath my feet.
I tiptoed to the end of the corridor and pushed open the heavy fire door, making my way down the stairs.
The back door of the sanatorium was usually locked, but I had already noticed a loose brick in the corner by the door that could be used to pry it open. I crouched down and felt for the brick; its surface was rough and cold against my fingers.
After a few attempts, the lock clicked open. I pushed the back door open and slipped out, blending into the thick darkness of the night.
Several taxis were parked along the roadside, and I approached one, pulling open the door and sliding inside.
“Driver, take me to West City Long-Distance Bus Station,” I said, my voice low and hoarse as I provided an address far from the city center.
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, nodded, and started the car. As we pulled away, we merged into the flow of traffic, and the streetlights cast fleeting shadows across the window as the scenery rushed by outside.
Upon arriving at the long-distance bus station, I paid the fare and walked into the bustling Waiting Hall.
Amidst the crowd, various voices intertwined, creating a noisy cacophony.
I purchased a Night Bus Ticket to Neighboring Province and found a corner to sit down, quietly waiting for departure time.
Comment 0 Comment Count