0091 Mad
In the dimly lit master bedroom, the doors and windows were tightly closed, and the curtains blocked the view from outside, leaving only a sliver of dim yellow light.
On the rooftop across the street, a sniper lay prone on the ground, his eyes fixed intently on a balcony.
He adjusted his headphones and reported, "There are too many obstacles; I can't aim."
The person inside the earpiece said something, and the sniper replied crisply, "Understood."
After saying that, he pointed the gun at the window again.
Through the scope, a black shadow silently descended from upstairs and landed on the glass roof of the balcony.
Those inside heard the noise and couldn't help but smile exaggeratedly.
Fu Cong walked behind Shen Yuxiu, pressed the gun in his right hand against the back of Shen Yuxiu's head, and held a bomb remote control in his left hand, staring intently at the master bedroom door with anticipation.
Outside the door, another loud noise came, but this time it wasn't the sound of the door opening; instead, it was the sound of a body slamming to the ground.
Song Ning opened the door to the master bedroom, and the light from the living room shone into the bedroom from behind.
With the help of the dim light behind him, Song Ning was able to see the situation inside the room at a glance.
Shen Yuxiu's hands were tied behind the chair. Fu Cong stood behind him, holding a gun and another hand raised. She couldn't see what was in the other hand, but she could guess.
She dared not make any rash moves and turned her gaze back to Shen Yuxiu's face.
The two locked eyes.
His eyes still held that all-encompassing, boundless tenderness.
For a moment, Song Ning had the illusion that the wounds on his body and the black bloodstains at his feet did not exist.
Her hands were not stained with blood; this was still their warm home where they embraced and whispered sweet nothings.
Unfortunately, this was just a fleeting illusion caused by being captivated by his gentle gaze.
Song Ning pointed the gun at Fu Cong, her voice chilling: "I'm here."
"I'm so glad to finally see you up close." Fu Cong stood mostly in the shadows, the light only illuminating a small part of his outline. His voice was excited. "You really do look a bit like him."
Time was of the essence, and Song Ning didn't have time for pleasantries.
She murmured softly, her voice cold and resolute, yet tinged with despair: "Why?"
At that distance, even if she fired, Shen Yuxiu would have a hard time surviving, not to mention he was strapped with a bomb.
On the bomb, the timer showed 27 minutes remaining, the seconds ticking away rapidly.
She didn't know why, but before she met Shen Yuxiu, she felt an indescribable fear. Now that she knew his condition, even though it was a gamble with a very low chance of winning, she no longer felt afraid.
She looked at Fu Cong in the shadows, wanting an answer from him: "That person abandoned my mother and me before I was born, why do we have to endure this?"
Downstairs, it seemed there had been a car accident; car horns and residents' complaints drifted into the room from time to time, making it particularly noisy in the dark.
Fu Cong seemed to realize something, and his facial features gradually distorted.
He was like a ghost crawling out of hell, his voice sinister and icy: "Blame Song Yi for dying too young. He betrayed me, and I originally wanted to pay him back tenfold, but who knew he would just die like that. You are his daughter, and since you survived, you should bear this pain."
As soon as Fu Cong finished speaking, he heard Shen Yuxiu laugh out loud.
His laughter came from his nose, weak and hoarse, yet filled with disdain and mockery.
Fu Cong pressed the gun forcefully against Shen Yuxiu's scalp and said coldly, "What are you laughing at?"
If he hadn't wanted to torment Song Ning a little longer, to etch this memory into her mind so she could never forget it, he would have shot this man long ago.
He originally planned to record the video of torturing Shen Yuxiu and send it to Song Ning for safekeeping.
The man remained silent and showed almost no reaction. Apart from the increase in his wounds, there was no other change. He only reacted when his ring finger was cut off, but he only let out a muffled groan.
Fu Cong really didn't know what he was insisting on. In fact, if he were willing to compromise and cooperate with him to make a video, he could suffer much less.
After all, he had no interest in the man's suffering; the person he wanted to inflict pain on was Song Ning.
A faint smile appeared on Shen Yuxiu's lips, his voice barely audible, yet unwavering in its sarcasm: "I laugh at your self-deception. Even his name is fake. Song Yicheng is his real name. You say he betrayed you? He's a policeman, you're a criminal. You don't really think you're best friends, do you? His best friends are his comrades who fought alongside him, not a criminal like you."
Fu Cong listened to Shen Yuxiu's words without interrupting or getting angry. His face was shrouded in dark shadows, making him look like a ghostly figure seeking death, sinister and terrifying.
Song Ning saw him move his hand and her heart skipped a beat: "You asked me to come here just so you could make me choose? I've already chosen. Those two outside are both dead. I don't care about having another life on my hands."
Shen Yuxiu looked at Song Ning, his voice hoarse: "Song Ning."
This was the first time in so many years that he had called her by her full name; so long that Song Ning couldn't even remember.
Her surname is Song. Her father was a policeman, but she was a murderer.
Perhaps this was Fu Cong's purpose: to train her into a criminal with blood on her hands.
"Shut up," Song Ning yelled at him. "If you're going to die, you'll die by my hand. That's what you owe me."
Fu Cong froze, his finger slowly releasing the trigger as he was about to pull it. He said firmly, "Put the gun down, kick it over here, and then pick up the knife on the bed."
A chilling wind swirled around Song Ning's body, its coldness penetrating to the bone.
"good."
Song Ning hooked the gun with his index finger, raised both hands, and placed it where Fu Cong could see it, his voice trembling.
Shen Yuxiu struggled violently, but was quickly stopped by Fu Cong.
Fu Cong placed the hand holding the remote control on Shen Yuxiu's shoulder and threatened, "If you want her to die with you, then keep moving."
Shen Yuxiu stopped what he was doing and shouted at Song Ning in anguish and despair, "Who sent you?"
Song Ning smirked: "When you wanted to be a hero, did you never think I would come?"
Shen Yuxiu remained silent.
Song Ning knew he had thought about it, and she smiled bitterly: "Shen Yuxiu, you are the most ruthless person. Since you are prepared to die, then die by my hand."
Song Ning slowly squatted down, revealing a swollen patch on her left ankle.
She put the gun on the ground, kicked it to Fu Cong's feet, and then forced herself to stand up.
"Don't do that. You might as well just let me die." Shen Yuxiu lowered his head, making it impossible to see his face.
Fu Cong glanced at the gun on the ground without making any move, then looked at Song Ning again and gestured for her to get the knife.
The blood from the knife stained the blue silk bedding, leaving a dark stain.
Song Ning walked to the bedside, grasped the knife handle, and limped toward Shen Yuxiu.
The familiar nightmare haunted her; every step felt like stepping into that dark basement, a nightmare woven by Fu Cong from which she could never escape.
However, she said that she was no longer that unarmed little girl, nor was she a victim left without anyone to help her.
Song Ning stood in front of Shen Yuxiu: "Shen Yuxiu, look at me."
Shen Yuxiu's muscles were bulging, as if he wanted to break free from his restraints, or as if he couldn't bear the intense pain.
He finally raised his head, his eyes filled with guilt and pain, just like when he first met her.
"sorry."
"sorry."
The two spoke at the same time.
Song Ning laughed out loud and murmured, "Shen Yuxiu, if you die, go and see my parents for me. Remember to bring a generous gift."
She raised the knife hanging at her side and swiftly and precisely stabbed it into his shoulder.
Shen Yuxiu slumped his head in defeat, his throat bobbed, and he let out a heart-wrenching sob.
This stab not only pierced Shen Yuxiu's remaining half-life, but also pierced Song Ning's old scar on his heart.
Song Ning watched the blood slide down the blade and land in the mouth of her hand, and she also saw the white, smooth flesh of his jawbone fall off.
There was so much blood on Shen Yuxiu's body that there was almost no place to cut him. Although she controlled it very well and didn't make any other wounds, it was still hard to guarantee that he could hold on.
Shen Yuxiu's eyelids felt heavy; none of his other wounds hurt as much as this knife wound.
He had expected her to come, which is why he asked Shen Jiayi to keep an eye on her, but Shen Jiayi still let her come.
He didn't know how long this nightmare would haunt her. He wanted to personally experience the despair and pain she had gone through, but unexpectedly, his self-redemption and selfishness became the sharp blade that hurt her.
We clearly agreed that no matter what, we couldn't let her come... It's all his fault. He's too selfish, too stupid, and too incompetent.
This attack came so suddenly that Fu Cong was caught completely off guard.
He instinctively raised his gun, and when he saw that the knife had actually landed on Shen Yuxiu, he was first stunned, and then suddenly burst into laughter.
He pointed the gun at Shen Yuxiu and ordered, "Continue."
Song Ning pulled out the knife; the back of his hand was warm, and he couldn't tell if it was the temperature of blood or tears.
She looked up at Fu Cong, and this time, being very close, she could finally see his face clearly.
His cheeks were thin and sunken, making him look even more menacing than in the photos, and his eyes were terrifyingly dark, like those of a UFO.
Song Ning looked directly into his eyes, eyes that had appeared countless times in her dreams.
Her gaze passed over his shoulder, and she murmured, "Go to hell."
Fu Cong noticed her gaze, and a sudden realization dawned on him. His relaxed body instinctively turned around.
A dark shadow pounced on him.
Just as Fu Cong was about to press the button on the remote control in his hand, a sharp pain shot through his left wrist.
The knife in Song Ning's hand slashed Fu Cong's wrist, the cut so deep that bone was visible.
Blood splattered from her wrist, staining half of Song Ning's face.
Fu Cong screamed in agony, his gloomy gaze sweeping over Song Ning.
Her gaze was sinister and cruel, and she looked exactly like Song Yicheng, whom he had first met and who had almost been tortured to death in prison.
His hand hesitated for half a second.
In that half-second, Shen Jiayi had already snatched the remote control from his hand and tossed it to her colleague behind her.
A gunshot rang out inside the room, and a photo album on the TV cabinet fell over.
Fu Cong's neck was choked by Shen Jiayi, and the hand holding the gun was pressed to the side by her, away from Shen Yuxiu's head.
His bullet missed its mark, and Fu Cong roared angrily, then rammed backward violently.
Shen Jiayi's back slammed against the wall. She groaned softly in pain and tightened her grip on Fu Cong's neck, her hands holding onto his gun tightly and refusing to let go.
Upon seeing this, Song Ning picked up the gun on the ground without hesitation and shouted, "Jiayi!"
Shen Jiayi slammed Fu Cong's wrist against the wall several times.
Fu Cong's right wrist was fractured and he lost strength, causing the gun to slip from his hand.
Song Ning kicked the gun away, and the moment Shen Jiayi pushed Fu Cong away, he pulled the trigger.
Two bullets pierced Fu Cong's forehead simultaneously.
One gun came from Song Ning's hand, and the other came from a window that had been melted down at some unknown time.
Two small helicopters flew in from a distance and hovered overhead, their turbines making a loud noise that drowned out the curses and loudspeakers outside.
Several beams of white light shone into the room, landing directly on Fu Cong's face.
Fu Cong's body stiffened and he fell backward. Under the white light, his eyes, which looked even more terrifying, stared at Song Ning with an expression that seemed to be filled with hatred, or perhaps searching for someone's shadow in her.
Song Ning knew he was dead, and this was just a photo of him before he died. However, she still held the gun to him, not daring to put it down, as if she was afraid that he would come back to life in the next second.
A hand covered her gun.
Song Ning looked up, and the sweat from her forehead slid into her eyes, making them sting.
Tears fell.
Song Ning met Shen Jiayi's eyes and heard Fu Cong's death sentence.
"Fu Cong is dead."
Shen Jiayi's gentle yet strong hand gradually loosened Song Ning's stiff fingers.
Song Ning handed the gun to Shen Jiayi and lowered his eyes.
She looked at Shen Yuxiu, who was about to collapse beside her, and whispered, "If you die, I will not remain a widow for you."
"Okay." Shen Yuxiu lowered his head, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
The lights inside the room suddenly turned on, and five or six people rushed in from the living room and the balcony.
Someone came over and half-helped, half-pulled Song Ning out of the room.
The last thing Song Ning saw before leaving was the bomb disposal expert squatting in front of Shen Yuxiu, who was covered in blood.
His thick eyelashes drooped, making him look as if he were asleep.
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