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墨書 Inktalez
I have always been a diligent and hardworking person. Even from a very young age, I knew I was a genius.
By the time I was less than a year old, I could speak clearly. At three, I could recite dozens of Tang poems, and by five, I was reading novels bound in traditional Chinese style. My growth was smooth sailing, but the phrase "awareness of potential troubles" lingered in my mind. It was born when I was six, gazing at the galaxy and feeling the pain of life's brevity.
I constantly worried that I would leave this world before realizing my dreams, so I cast aside everything and everyone unrelated to my aspirations, burying myself in hard work. I had no friends, no hobbies; the only thing I wanted to do was to stand out.
At eighteen, I believed I had encountered my first significant opportunity in life.
A producer who had been quite pleased with my youthful service said, “Director Hou is preparing to shoot a major film. I'll introduce you; make sure to work hard.” So, I went. I believed it was my first big chance, wholeheartedly convinced until I realized it was not an opportunity at all but a painful experience that forced you to swallow your pride and smile through the pain.
It might be a memory of shame that would never fade away.
I began to be cautious, to adjust myself, to cultivate my talents in silence, and to carefully slow down my quest for fame. Finally, two decades passed in the blink of an eye.
At thirty-eight, I had gained some recognition and found someone I loved; I was satisfied with my life. Just then, that long-buried film resurfaced!
I truly couldn’t believe it; overnight, that film and its unbearable past flooded back into public view.
After a moment of disbelief, I was filled with such rage that I tore apart a Japanese-imported towel into shreds, howling like a wolf.
This was a film that should have long vanished without a trace; even if it were to resurface, it should not have done so in this manner.
I cannot tolerate those wicked people who reopen my healed wounds! Who are they? Where are they? How can I express my heart-wrenching fury? I gripped the television in front of me and hurled it against the wall with all my might.
Destroy those disgusting scum. The target is so clear; all I need is a detailed and meticulous plan.
That seasoned film buff is damned because he is the originator of the raw materials provided to the reporters; that Fujianese is damned because he is the biggest producer and wholesaler; that worker is damned because he recounts some details in filthy language, oblivious to me standing among the passersby behind him; Xu Haitao is damned because he must die; Li Yuecheng is the most damned of all because this opportunistic little punk forces me, a genius, to confront such painful memories.
...
I gave Xu Haitao many hints and then let him see the case scrapbook I deliberately placed in Li Yuecheng's office. I know this scumbag; he would definitely try to blackmail Li Yuecheng. They would surely clash. This way, I would have the opportunity to kill him. And only with Xu Haitao dead would the police focus their attention on Li Yuecheng.
Yes, I am not Li Yuecheng. I killed someone; I am 38 years old, but I never claimed "I" am Li Yuecheng. Why do you have the illusion that "I" am Li Yuecheng? Did you not have room for thought, no choices? Did you not think or choose? No, you walked into the trap I successfully laid.
I set another trap as well. After witnessing the argument I wanted to see, I stealthily took Li Yuecheng's phone, which he had kept off to avoid the media, and mixed cyanide into the tin foil of this perfectionist, obsessive-compulsive, and depressed individual.
In his second-floor archive, there were already thick scripts I had sent over, containing four thrilling murder sequences. Each segment repeated for 20 pages.
Of course, a genius like me knows that in those days of seething anger, he would be unable to read any scripts. Completing this perfect setup mainly relies on what fate grants.
On that day, I first used Li Yuecheng's stolen phone in Xu Haitao's bathroom to call him through a voice changer, saying that Li Yuecheng wanted to meet him in the Garbage Room. He went without suspicion, and I casually followed shortly after... Thank you, fate, for allowing me to write down everything that would happen afterward in advance, almost without a hitch.
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