willow
The sky is the same color.
Raise your head, and you can see everything.
In an old alley in Lankang, a middle-aged man, his face flushed from drinking, stumbled into his house.
He plunged in, then froze on the spot as soon as he regained his footing, his eyes, squinted from the smell of alcohol, snapping open abruptly. Immediately afterward, a piercing scream tore through the long, dark night.
This is the story I'm about to tell, which suddenly unveils the long-hidden, blood-red veil. You might call it hasty, but Lankang is precisely such a rich and strangely diverse place.
Please listen carefully, everyone.
In the police station of Lankang, Ishio Sanada leaned against the white wall, his gaze fixed on the person sitting in the office chair two steps away, with his eyes slightly closed.
"Director Song, I think I need a reasonable explanation for what happened last night."
The man's eyelashes trembled upon hearing this, but he did not open his eyes.
"Mr. Ishio, I suppose you Japanese soldiers are quite reasonable. The autopsy report for that woman clearly shows that it contained the drugs of your soldiers. What do you say about that?"
"I think there might be a misunderstanding. But soldiers of my Great Japanese Empire cannot die without knowing why."
The man chuckled, opened his eyes, looked at him, and said, "Then the people of Lankang are just supposed to die without knowing why?"
This newly appointed Director Song, whose full name is Song Liuxue, has become a hot topic in the city in recent years because her older sister, Song Baishuang, married He Wuyan, the mayor of Lankang.
This Director Song was a very righteous person, and he refused to bow down to the Japanese. He looked down on his brother-in-law's submissive and compromising attitude.
Looking at Ishio Sanada, who had come to his door, he merely narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Mr. Ishio often praises the Japanese army for its strict discipline. I think that it is somewhat unreasonable to treat a woman who is helpless in such a way."
He put a cigarette in his mouth, grinned nonchalantly, and went to strike a match.
"Judging from Director Song's words, he's not going to give me an explanation."
Ishio took a step closer and looked down at him.
Song Liuxue remained the same, sitting in her seat engrossed in smoking. He made a light beckoning gesture and called out, "Deputy Officer Wen, see the guest out."
Upon hearing this, the adjutant entered, adopting a humble demeanor and saying, "Mr. Ishio, please."
"Director Song, we have a long future ahead of us."
"There's no need for that now. I advise Mr. Ishio to take care of himself."
Ishio snorted coldly, adopting a similar slightly amused expression, and turned to leave with a huff.
Song Liuxue stared at his shadow, leaned back in her chair, and took a deep breath.
"Shorty, if you want to have all the good things, you should consider whether you have the capacity to do so."
When Deputy Liao returned after seeing the man off, he saw Liao's nonchalant demeanor and said, "Director, you really shouldn't have said that to him just now."
"Oh? Then how should I say it? Should I spout nonsense to please him?"
“If you calculate it this way with him today, the mayor will criticize you again. How can that be considered a good deal?”
If, in time, he loses favor, wouldn't he be at the mercy of others?
Song Liuxue glanced at him through the thin smoke, tapped her finger on the table, and said, "You're really long-winded."
After saying that, he took off his coat from the chair and put it on, walking outside as he did so.
The adjutant asked, "Where are you going?"
“Let’s go back to that place last night and see what kind of explanation he wants.”
The adjutant followed, and the two left the police station, but there was no sign of the car. He asked, "Where's the driver?"
"He said his wife's water broke and he took half a day off." He glanced at him carefully before adding, "Miss Zhao has already approved the leave."
"She's kind-hearted. Never mind, let's walk."
As he spoke, he walked out of the compound, with his adjutant Wen following behind him.
The third wife woke up at this time.
She propped herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, putting on her clothes.
Hearing the noise, the maid waiting outside the door knocked lightly and said, "Madam, have you gotten up?"
She responded, got off the floor, and sat down in front of the dressing table.
"Then I'll come in and help you wash up." She pushed open the door a moment later and came in carrying a basin of water.
She combed her hair, and the Third Madam asked, "What happened last night with all that commotion?"
"They say it was that old man from the grain store next door whose wife was raped by a Japanese devil. His child was also stabbed to death by that devil, and there was a pool of blood."
The third wife frowned, straightened her back slightly, spread the steaming hot towel on her face, and after three or four seconds took it off to carefully wipe her earlobes and neck.
"His wife was quite formidable. She said that she touched a pair of scissors used for cutting dried vermicelli and had one of the Japanese soldiers blind her in the eye. In the end, he stabbed her to death."
"However, she didn't survive in the end; she had been stabbed several times. She must have bled a lot."
"What kind of world is this? How dare a bunch of foreign devils act so arrogantly here?" The third madam sighed softly, stood up, and walked into the dining room.
She has no children of her own, and with Third Master not around, she eats alone every meal.
I haven't received any letters from him lately, so I suppose he's having a hard time. I couldn't help but sigh even more.
She thought of his difficulties, but there was nothing she could do to alleviate them.
When Song Liuxue arrived, a group of police officers were gathered outside the grain shop.
Upon seeing him arrive, they all bowed respectfully and said, "Director Song."
He stepped across the threshold and instinctively raised his hand to cover his mouth and nose.
The room was filled with the pungent smell of blood. Thick, semi-dried blood clots covered the floor, resembling a red carpet spread out before one could see it. What the floor originally looked like was now impossible to discern.
He clenched his fists and stepped back, asking his adjutant, "Where are the bodies now?"
"Still in the hospital."
He waved and flagged down a passing rickshaw driver.
"Director, where are you going?"
"Hospital."
"But aren't you going to have dinner with Boss Huai later?"
"Master, let's go." Song Liuxue turned around and tapped her hands on the partition in front of her.
The man pulling the cart responded and quickly started running.
The adjutant watched the car disappear into the distance and silently shook his head.
There are only a few hospitals in Lankang, the largest of which is Ping An Hospital, which was burned down by the Japanese last year.
The renovations resumed this year, and work was only recently put on hold.
The bodies of the old man's wife and children are currently kept here.
Song Liuxue got out of the car, looked up, and saw a white-tiled building with fine black trim, solemn and serene. He went inside, grabbed a doctor dressed in white, and asked, "Excuse me, how do I get to the morgue?"
The doctor gave him a strange look: "Who are you? This morgue isn't a place you can just walk into whenever you want. What if you disturb the spirit of the deceased?"
After hearing this, he took out a black notebook from his pocket, picked up one side with two fingers, and held it up in front of the doctor, saying, "Police station, investigating a case, please be lenient."
"So it's Director Song. Please invite this person over." The doctor quickly changed his expression and hurriedly led the way, following him to the left and right.
We went down to the lower level, where the light was even fainter.
The guide led him into a narrow alley and bowed, saying, "Director Song, this is the room you've been looking for."
Song Liuxue didn't look at him, but waved her hand and said, "Please go ahead and do your work. I'll take a look by myself."
The doctor listened to him say this, agreed, and walked away.
He went inside and saw several steel beds covered with white sheets.
This is life, a solitary journey through the world, bringing with us something and taking it away.
The second room on the right is labeled: Liao Yuezhen.
Song Liuxue stood in front of the bed and said softly, "I'm sorry, I've come today to demand an explanation from you." Then she lifted the blanket covering the bed.
The body of the young woman, who looked to be only in her early twenties, lay on the bed with her body half-bent over.
He couldn't help but recall what his adjutant had said that morning: "This Ma Liao was still tightly protecting her six or seven-year-old son in her arms before she died."
He said this woman was powerless, yet he also said that a mother's love makes her strong. He bowed respectfully, his expression quickly becoming dazed.
He couldn't help but think of the past, of his alcoholic father.
His father would come home drunk every night and would always grab his mother's braid and beat her. His mother would beat her until she couldn't even stand up, but she would still hold him and his sister tightly in her arms.
Back then, it was always dark, and for some reason, the sun never seemed to rise.
He stood silently for a while, then covered himself with the cloth again and left.
In the past, people always said that the widow could not possibly understand the pain of the deceased, but now he felt that this statement was completely wrong.
Those who survive will eventually perish.
The pain of the past must be kept dormant for life.
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