(1)
The rain poured down as if the Milky Way itself was spilling over, its icy touch seeping straight into her bones.
Zhu Ying felt as if she had been dragged out from the Antarctic glaciers—her whole body stiff, her hands and feet almost numb.
Her body seemed to slowly lift off the ground.
The slippery ground pressed against her palm with a rough texture, a faint, ant-like sting crawling over her scraped skin.
She didn’t know where she was being taken.
She struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt glued shut, refusing to part even a sliver.
The air clung to her like glue, making each breath painfully difficult.
Suddenly, as if she had stepped into a forest, the air became fresh and pure, and the tension in her muscles gradually eased.
When she opened her eyes again, it was still that pitch-black rainy night.
Zhu Ying’s head throbbed as if it might split open, but she couldn’t reach out to touch it.
Her Mother sat beside her, and seeing her open her eyes, she excitedly squeezed her small hand.
“Ying Ying, are you alright? Mom was so worried about you…”
“Am I… in the hospital?”
“Yes, you were unconscious for over two hours. You scared us to death.”
Before Zhu Ying could say anything, a Police Officer in uniform pushed open the door and approached her bedside with a kind smile.
“Hello, little lady. You’re the first witness to regain consciousness. Are you feeling clear-headed now?”
“My head hurts.”
“Mom will pour you some water, okay?”
Zhu Ying pressed her dry lips together; her long eyelashes fluttered slightly.
At this moment, she looked as helpless as a fragile doll.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, but it’s best to take the statement as soon as possible. After all, this is a very serious murder case.”
“Mm.”
Zhu Ying took the green tea her Mother handed her and sipped carefully, frowning at the heat.
“I’m not really sure what happened. I was with a good friend, we went to buy some cola, and when we came out, we heard a scream, so we went to see…”
Although he had already started recording, the diligent young Police Officer quickly scribbled down keywords in his notebook.
“Then we saw a woman lying in a pool of blood. I’m not certain about her age, but she seemed quite young. There was a little girl calling out for her ‘Mom’…”
“That lady is still being resuscitated,” the young officer added instinctively.
“Mm, and then there were three men—three guys,” Zhu Ying stared at the tea leaves moving slightly in her cup, silent for a few seconds before continuing, “They seemed like they wanted to kill someone. The target was probably my friend. How is she?”
“You mean that girl? She passed out too. She’s in another ward now. The doctors didn’t find any external injuries.”
“…That’s a relief.”
“Can you continue?”
“Mm, then a medium-tall man came over. They spoke Japanese—it seemed like they knew each other, but they weren’t on the same side.”
“Can you recall some of what they said?”
“No.” Zhu Ying shook her head, confused.
“That’s understandable… and then?”
“They started fighting. Oh, right, a kind man ran around the corner to save the girl being held hostage. I didn’t see clearly, but suddenly I fell to the ground.”
“He was stabbed in the chest with a special knife. He’s also being treated now.”
“Mm, then another man with scissors—a barber—came to help. They struggled, and then… it sounded like a gunshot.”
“Yes, we found bullets at the scene.”
“I fell down and then don’t remember anything after that…”
“Alright, thank you for your cooperation, little lady. Get some rest.”
“Can I go home now?”
“The doctor says you’re mostly fine—just some bruises and scratches—but they suggest you stay in the hospital overnight.”
“Staying here, I can’t sleep.”
Zhu Ying frowned, stubbornly shaking her Mother’s arm with her other hand.
“The smell of disinfectant is awful.”
“Are you feeling better now? Let me check if you have a fever.”
“Absolutely not—let me go home, Mom. What about Dad?”
“He went to get more information.”
“He drove here, right?”
“He’s so worried, of course he drove.”
“Then maybe he can just drive us home later.”
“You really don’t want to stay in the hospital?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll ask the doctor.”
“Mm, before we leave, I want to see how my friend is doing.”
“As long as you’re okay, you decide.”
“Hehe.”
Zhu Ying managed a mischievous smile.
As her Mother left the room, her whole body sagged again.
Closing her eyes, the image of that blood-soaked scene flashed involuntarily in her mind—even in the hospital, it still haunted her.
It was almost impossible to check out in the middle of the night, but since they were going home, they only needed to notify the doctor.
The formalities could be handled by her parents when they had time the next day.
After changing out of the hospital gown and into clean clothes her Mother brought, Zhu Ying felt much more comfortable.
For some reason, wearing that blue-and-white hospital gown made her feel like she was shackled, so uncomfortable that she barely dared to look the nurses and doctors in the face.
Before leaving, she visited the quiet ward.
Her friend’s two older sisters were there.
The round-faced, slightly chubby, shorter sister had already fallen asleep at the bedside, while the other, with a cold expression, was slowly sipping coffee.
“Huihui,” Zhu Ying quietly greeted her as she stepped inside.
The ward lights were off, with only a small lamp glowing by the bed.
Nearby came the sound of a middle-aged woman grinding her teeth and a middle-aged man snoring on the bed by the door.
Being hospitalized didn’t always mean a serious illness.
Even a hemorrhoid surgery or a gastroscopy required a hospital stay.
This quiet room didn’t seem to have anyone gravely ill.
“Xiaoying, you’re okay now?”
“Mm, just a little sleepy.”
Zhu Ying covered her mouth and yawned widely.
“How’s Xiaojing?”
“She’s fine now, probably asleep.”
“Oh… that’s good. Are you going to school tomorrow?”
“If nothing’s wrong, she should go.”
“Mm! I’ll go too.”
“If you don’t feel well, just rest a few days. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m fine, just a few scrapes.”
Zhu Ying shook her head lightly, covering her mouth again with a yawn.
“Ha—well, I’m heading home now. Bye, Huihui.”
“Take care on the way.”
“It’s okay, my dad’s driving.”
They arrived home around three in the morning—leaving very little time before getting up for school.
Although her Mother suggested she rest another day to adjust, Zhu Ying still wanted to go to school with Anjing.
The result?
She couldn’t sleep at all.
Not because she didn’t want to, but after showering at home, she felt even more awake.
She lay there, wide awake until five in the morning, then greeted her Mother as she cooked porridge and headed out.
“Is Xiaojing awake yet?”
Zhu Ying thought of something amusing and smiled faintly as she stood at the intersection where the two often met.
She tried to read what Anjing was thinking—after all, even if it was a dream, she could still read it, though only the dream content.
But no matter how hard she tried, nothing came through.
It was like holding a phone with no signal, standing in the middle of nowhere.
Had her ability failed?
Or…
Zhu Ying shook her head hard, refusing to accept the latter.
After all, Anjing wasn’t hurt and didn’t seem to be in trouble.
Maybe it was because she hadn’t slept all night and her body was too exhausted to use the one-way mind reading.
She glanced at the empty street, then turned to buy two red bean buns at the bun shop, barely lifting her eyes from the street.
But even after finishing the buns at the intersection, there was no sign of Anjing.
Maybe she had simply come out too early today.
“I’ll wait in the classroom.”
She tightened her scarf and briskly headed toward the school.
The late spring cold snap made standing outside unbearably chilly.
***
(2)
The classroom was empty, and the window she usually climbed through was closed. Zhu Ying had to get the key again from the security guard to open the door.
Southern classrooms naturally had no heating, and the empty room felt even colder than outside.
Shivering, Zhu Ying put down her winter homework and opened her phone to message Anjing.
No response.
Neither QQ messages nor texts yielded any reply.
She idly played a text-based QQ farm game, casually glanced over a few morning multimedia messages, and skimmed the news.
Yesterday’s incident hadn’t yet made the news.
Among the trivial local stories, only a few jokes were mildly entertaining.
It was the first day back after the New Year, and most students arrived late.