The two of them were acquaintances at the restaurant. The owner was a middle-aged man with a straightforward personality who often chatted with the customers.
He personally served the food and, knowing that Xiang Qing was a police officer, asked him a few more questions.
"Xiao Xiang, when will your case be solved? I watched the news and I've been on tenterhooks all day."
He said "we people" refers to the masses, ordinary people who are powerless and have an instinctive fear of such murders happening around them.
His daughter attends the same school as those girls, so it's normal for him to be worried.
The case was complicated, and it was only the first day, so Xiang Qing couldn't give him any guarantees and could only use old-fashioned official rhetoric to appease his boss.
"As long as we find clues, we will solve the case as soon as possible, so you don't need to worry too much. We will also increase the number of police officers in the surrounding area in the next few days."
The boss left with some doubt.
Yi Mu was serving food to Yi Mu, but after only a couple of bites, the sound of an ambulance siren suddenly rang out outside the window.
Yi Mu's eyelids twitched. He and Xiang Qing exchanged a glance, and almost without thinking, he blurted out, "Something's not right."
He had just finished speaking when Xiang Qing's phone rang.
The police called to report another murder at a nightclub, this time on a larger scale, with more than a dozen people dead.
Tonight is destined to be sleepless.
Xiang Qing had to go to the police station, so Yi Mu packed a meal for him to take to the police station.
Xiang Qing told Yi Mu to go home and call him to let him know he was safe, and to keep the doors and windows tightly closed, and not to open the door if anyone knocked.
As Yi Mu walked to the entrance of the residential area, he suddenly noticed that the clouds on the horizon were eerily red, as if they had been splashed with blood.
I remember the sky looked like this before the apocalypse, like some kind of omen.
The community security guard saw him, opened the window, and handed him a package.
"Xiao Yi, there's a package for you."
I haven't shopped online recently, so I don't know who sent this.
He took the package and thanked the man.
The package wasn't big, about the size of a palm.
We walked and disassembled it as we went. The thing was sealed quite tightly. We had to tear off several layers of tape before we could see what it was.
Yi Mu went upstairs, took out his keys from his pocket to open the door, and tore open the sealed paper bag to empty its contents.
He had just glanced at it when his body suddenly froze and he couldn't move.
A neighbor came up from downstairs and saw him standing at his door with his keys in his hand but not going in. Curious, the neighbor approached him.
"Yimu, what are you doing standing at the door..."
Before he could finish speaking, Yi Mu opened the door, slipped inside, and slammed it shut.
He looked panicked, as if something was persecuting him from behind.
The neighbor meant well, but was met with a cold shoulder. Feeling resentful, he went home.
Yi Mu leaned against the door, panting, and after a long while, he finally raised his hand.
It was a stack of photos showing the entire process of Yimu being locked up in the laboratory for virus experiments.
He lay on the bed, pale-faced, wearing an oxygen mask, shirtless, with tubes inserted into his arms and chest, his brows slightly furrowed, unconscious.
Those days as a test subject were a nightmare for Yi Mu, and he would feel extremely uneasy every time he thought about them.
The sender's information was vague, but Yi Mu knew very well who had sent the package.
That bastard Nie Han must still be alive.
That persistent ghost has haunted him once again.
Emu tried hard to calm himself down. The world had returned to normal and order had been restored.
That madman has to get past the police at least to do anything he wants.
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