Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
As the water tower gate closed, Yan Lan pressed against the observation window, shouting in desperation. Jiang Tianxing pulled out Old Tie's baby teeth hidden in the turtle shell and tossed them into the water valve. The lies that should have been exposed twenty years ago erupted into the air with the blast's shockwave.
Before the heat wave swallowed his vision, Jiang Tianxing's last sight was his own cracked reflection on the glass of the water meter, just as incomplete as when he crawled out of the Incinerator years ago.
Three days later, amidst a torrential downpour, Yan Lan crouched in the ruins, searching for evidence. Suddenly, half of Old Tie's turtle shell emitted a buzzing sound; its built-in micro-launcher guided her to dig out an iron box buried beneath a concrete pile. Inside a faded notebook was a burning list, and on the seventh line, Jiang Tianxing's name stood out boldly, with Jiang De's neat signature next to "Processed."
The glass curtain wall of the Children's Library reflected the carving knife in Jiang Tianxing's fingers, the metal blade slipping on the last stroke of the number "7." Over three years, she had carved this number thirty-eight times, each brick corresponding to a child from Ci'an Orphanage.
Sunlight streamed through the window panes, casting fire-like patterns on the ground. Fragments of Old Tie's shell were embedded in the back of the seventh bookshelf, like a silent monument.
" Forensic Doctor Yan, we need support at the explosion site of the southern factory!" A new intern rushed in holding a tablet; the charred outline of the factory on the screen tightened her throat. That place had once been called Ci'an Pharmaceutical Factory, built against the eastern wall of the orphanage twenty years ago.
Charred bodies curled up beside collapsed raw material tanks, their right fingers wedged into control panel gaps. Yan Lan used tweezers to lift skin from a man's neck; under ultraviolet light appeared a barcode tattoo—Gong Jun. A note stuck to a dried tangerine peel candy box in his left chest pocket read: "Jiang Tianxing is still alive," smeared by blood.
Suddenly, evidence bags were yanked away; a hand with burn scars emerged from the shadows, its frayed gray jacket smelling of bleach. "The fire hydrant was poorly maintained; someone replaced the pressure valve three hours before the explosion." The voice was hoarse as if choked by smoke for ten years, but Yan Lan recognized the curve of his right pinky finger.
Jiang Tianxing pressed his hard hat down to his brow and handed her a charred valve part: "The threads show signs of manual grinding, just like the pressure relief valve in the orphanage's boiler room back then." He turned to leave when Yan Lan threw her scalpel to pin his clothing; beneath where the blade pierced through cracked tiles lay a rusty key to a Confession Box.
The water tank on the library's top floor exploded at noon. As we rushed into the mist, monitors in the control room looped footage of Jiang De from before his death: "...Experiment subject number seven is alive; immediately initiate B Plan."
Jiang Tianxing suddenly pulled Yan Lan toward a corner as steel frames grazed his back, fresh blood overlapping old scars on his burn marks. Fragments of Old Tie's shell buzzed violently in the evidence box. Yan Lan pried open a compartment; a micro-tape adhered with waterproof tape contained recordings from twenty years ago that exploded with static: "Children’s cold medicine trial data falsified; Incinerator processing failed samples."
Jiang Tianxing tore open his collar; needle holes along the edges of his burn marks formed a barcode—exactly what Jiang De referred to as "Experiment Subject Number." As Gong Jun's body convulsed for the seventh time on the autopsy table, the truth finally pieced together. The "07" tattoo over his heart was not only his brother’s number but also code for batch seven of problematic pharmaceuticals from Ci'an.
The orphans who were drugged did not die in the fire; their organs had already been ravaged before the extermination operation.
Jiang Tianxing stood on the rooftop of the library, igniting a list. As the flames consumed the seventh line with his name, a fire truck passed by the rebuilt Children's Welfare Institute. He dropped the lighter, revealing half of an unburned adoption agreement in the ashes. The signature on the party B line was in Yan Lan's handwriting, while party A's name boldly read "Ci'an Medical Office, Doctor Lin."
Yan Lan gripped the key to the Confession Box tightly and inserted it into the lock of the donation box at the welfare institute. Thirty-eight yellowed letters poured out like snowflakes. Each letter was numbered, and in the seventh letter, there was a drawing of a woman in a white coat. The label on the medicine bottle she held matched perfectly with evidence from Ci'an Pharmaceutical Factory.
The last time Jiang Tianxing appeared on surveillance was late at night. He bowed to the ruins of the orphanage and buried Old Tie's shell beneath a newly planted Ilex tree. As morning light crept over the tombstone, tender green shoots emerged from the roots, and beneath them lay a Firefighter Medal, shining as if new, with "The truth will never be burned" engraved on its back.
Comment 0 Comment Count