0048 Memory
Song Ning continued to look through the documents. Underneath three or four photos of people falling from buildings was a photo of a man.
In the photo, a man wearing a long-sleeved striped prison uniform stands in front of a background wall with horizontal and vertical grids marked with numbers, holding a criminal's incarceration file sign in his hands, on which is written his name: Fu Cong.
Fu Cong has a square face, a high nose, and thick lips. Even with a buzz cut, his rugged handsomeness is not diminished at all. However, this man has a pair of eyes that make Song Ning shudder. They are unfocused and have no human emotions, appearing sinister and ruthless.
A strong sense of malice and fear rose in Song Ning's heart. His internal organs were squeezed together, and his back felt as if it had fallen into an ice cellar, with a chill running down his spine.
Her vision went completely white, followed by an endless surge of red. Her body went limp, and she fell backward into a pool of blood, drifting aimlessly.
The man stepped into the blood, his dagger poking the ground. He squatted down beside her, his sinister eyes looking down at her with a cruel yet pitying smile.
"You can only blame your bad luck for being born into the wrong family."
The dagger was raised in front of Song Ning. Song Ning's eyes remained fixed as he watched the dagger swiftly stab down. In that instant, the red sea receded, the ground shook, and the walls collapsed.
Bloody footprints passed by her, and the man's silhouette was etched in the last remaining white light of the dark corridor. He turned around, his face blurred, and disappeared with a mournful whistle.
Song Ning was pale and sweating profusely in the sub-zero winter weather. The documents in her hand felt like venomous snakes and ferocious beasts, which she threw onto the table.
She stood up shakily, knocking over a cup on the table and breaking it. The loud crash of the shattering porcelain startled Lin Kai, who was engrossed in playing with a Rubik's Cube.
Lin Kun looked up and had just said, "The toilet is here," when he heard a retching sound. Song Ning was already squatting on the ground, holding onto the sofa armrest, vomiting violently.
Lin Kun stopped what he was doing, took out two sheets of paper, handed them to Song Ning, and asked indifferently, "Still investigating?"
A wave of nausea washed over her, and she could taste blood and rust in her mouth. Song Ning dug her fingernails into the leather sofa to ease the dizziness in her eyes.
As the overwhelming black fog dissipated, Song Ning reached out and took the tissue, squeezing out through gritted teeth, "Check."
Why isn't it being investigated?!
"I'm sorry I made your floor dirty. I'll contact the cleaning lady to come and clean it." Song Ning forced himself to sit up, looking dazed, and sat down on the sofa, staring at the documents spread out on the table without touching them for a long time.
"Of course you should contact someone to clean it. I can't do it myself." Lin Kun walked to the tea bar and poured himself a glass of water.
Song Ning took out her phone and contacted the cleaning lady who had previously cleaned Shen Yuxiu's room, offering her three times the hourly rate to come and help.
Lin Kui placed the water on Song Ning's desk, gathered the documents in front of him, and handed them to her: "If you can't even accept this, I advise you not to investigate anymore. It's better to be a fool."
Song Ning pursed her lips, her fingernail leaving a curved mark on the paper, her voice stubborn: "I just ate too much for breakfast, and my stomach is upset."
Lin Kui sat on the sofa: "Take it back and see it. Having someone by your side might make you feel better."
Song Ning knew Lin Wei meant well, and she didn't want to show her vulnerability in front of others, so after giving Lin Wei her aunt's contact information, she took the documents and left.
When Song Ning returned to the courtyard, Shen Xiaoyue was pruning the flowers and plants. Seeing that Song Ning was dressed so lightly, he smiled and said, "Why are you only wearing so little? The North is not like the South."
"I'm not cold," Song Ning said truthfully.
She was dressed quite warmly, wearing thermal underwear, a knitted dress, and a short down jacket with a cinched waist. Although it might be cold for others, she seemed to be naturally more resistant to the cold than others.
Seeing that Song Ning's complexion was not good, Shen Xiaoyue put down the scissors in his hand, washed his hands, and stepped forward to touch Song Ning's forehead: "Why is your face so red? Did you catch a cold?"
"I'm fine." Song Ning avoided Shen Xiaoyue's hand, acting as usual. "Dad, I've already had lunch, so I won't eat anymore."
Shen Xiaoyue's hand paused in mid-air, but he eventually withdrew it: "Okay, then I'll ask Aunt Wang to make you some ginger soup, and you can have a sip."
Song Ning agreed and went back to her room.
She put the document into her desk drawer, lay down in bed, and tried to ease her discomfort.
A short while later, Shen Xiaoyue knocked on the door with ginger soup. Song Ning got up, opened the door, drank the ginger soup, and then went back to bed.
Shen Xiaoyue rarely saw Song Ning so obedient. He sat on the edge of the bed, his face full of worry: "Are you really alright? Did you suffer some injustice outside?"
Song Ning, her head buried in the blanket, couldn't help but shed tears when she heard Shen Xiaoyue's words: "No, I'm just sleepy."
Shen Xiaoyue picked up the empty bowl: "Then you should get some rest. I'll have Yuxiu come over tonight, and we'll have dinner together."
Song Ning hummed in agreement.
After Shen Xiaoyue left, Song Ning closed his eyes.
A jumble of chaotic memories flooded her mind; one moment she was lying in an overturned car, the next she was lying in a dark basement.
The only thing they had in common was that pair of bloodthirsty, excited eyes, which were fixed on her through the car window, through the dim light, like eyes watching prey.
Song Ning was in a daze, feeling as if her whole body was on fire, burning and in pain.
She drifted in and out of sleep, the sounds in the room were crystal clear, yet it felt like a dream, without any sense of reality.
"Ningning, let's get up and take our medicine."
Song Ning opened her eyes a crack and saw Shen Xiaoyue sitting on the edge of the bed, with Aunt Wang standing beside him.
She grasped the hand calloused from years of shooting practice, and tears welled up unexpectedly, whether from pain or fear.
"You'll feel better after you finish your medicine, don't cry." Shen Xiaoyue wiped away Song Ning's tears and said with heartache.
Song Ning wanted to speak, but her throat was burning so badly that it felt like it was being cut by a knife with every movement. In the end, she could only swallow some fever-reducing medicine and fall into a deep sleep.
In his dream, Song Ning met Xu Zhihua.
Xu Zhihua was tied to a chair, and blood from her forehead flowed down to the corner of her eye, looking like red tears.
“Ningning, this is a dream. When you wake up, you won’t remember anything.” Xu Zhihua’s eyes were firm yet gentle.
Song Ning held a knife in her hand, and someone grabbed her hands from behind. No matter how much she cried and struggled, she couldn't open her eyes. She could only watch helplessly as the knife stabbed into Xu Zhihua, cutting bloody gashes all over her body.
"Kill her, and I'll let you go."
"Kill her now!"
"Go ahead and do it."
The man's chilling voice shrieked in Song Ning's ear, while mocking laughter came from other demons all around. They treated life as a game, torture as a seasoning, and pleasured themselves with the suffering of others.
Song Ning couldn't remember how many cuts she made on Xu Zhihua's body. Amidst the bloodstains, she was numb with pain, letting the person behind her grab her and slash Xu Zhihua's body again and again.
She prayed in her heart, asking for help and asking the gods and Buddhas to save her and her mother, but no one or no god or Buddha responded to her.
She watched as Xu Zhihua closed her eyes and never opened them again.
Like a lamb that has lost its will to fight, she allowed the man to plunge the knife into her chest. The man said that she needed to be punished because she had disobeyed.
The moment the knife pierced her, Song Ning felt no pain, but rather a sense of relief.
She saw Xu Zhihua's blurry figure, and then she saw Shen Yuxiu. The two figures overlapped and merged, eventually turning into the warm temperature on her hand, which made her feel at ease.
"Save me, save my mother."
Song Ning pleaded hoarsely; this was her only lifeline, the only boat she could hold onto, the only shore she could rely on wholeheartedly.
"It's alright, don't be afraid."
That's enough. He's still here, that's enough.
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I'm almost done writing now because the premise has fallen apart, but I have this bad habit of feeling uneasy if I don't finish, so I have to grit my teeth and keep going.
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