He never cleaned up the crime scene, leaving it in complete disarray, covered with traces of evidence. The bodies were discarded on-site with no attempt at concealment. His home was foul and filthy, resembling a garbage dump, much like the dwelling of someone mentally unstable.
Yet it wouldn’t be accurate to say he was completely disorganized. Before committing his crimes, he would dress himself neatly and meticulously. He also had distinct markers for his criminal acts and took souvenirs. From these two aspects, he exhibited a strong sense of ritual. When evading the police, he managed to slip through tight encirclements with agility, traversing mountains and valleys, displaying caution and adaptability, and remained at large for a long time.
Yin Feng tapped a pen lightly on the case file. This indicated that Xu Baping’s innate talent for crime and mental acuity were quite remarkable. If not for the car accident that injured his brain, making him prone to irritability and emotional outbursts, he would have executed his crimes even more flawlessly, making it far more difficult for the police to capture him…
Something stirred sharply within Yin Feng, a feeling that he was on the verge of grasping something crucial. He picked up the case file for the current "Apprentice Killer" investigation, placed the two sets of documents side by side, furrowed his brow in deep thought, and after a long while, a smile crept onto his face.
Perhaps by doing so, he could catch that person off guard… instead of searching for a needle in a haystack as they were now.
With his mind made up, Yin Feng set down the file. Having read continuously for an hour or two, he felt somewhat fatigued. Noticing a bottle of mineral water on the corner of the desk, he picked it up and drank. Then he leaned back in the chair and gazed out the window.
The afternoon sunlight was quiet. Occasionally, footsteps echoed in the hallway, and he seemed to hear Ding Xiongwei’s laughter and voice, along with the sound of several people walking. Recently recovered from a severe injury, having slept little the previous night and expended considerable energy, he felt weary. Closing his eyes as he leaned back in You Mingxu’s chair, he recalled her earlier helpless expression, the corners of her eyes hiding a smile as she said, "Fine, I’ll drink, alright?" A faint smile touched his lips.
He wanted to hold her, to tease her, to see her flushed and wanting to resist yet unable to bring herself to do so.
Like a fiercely wild doe, now nestled in his embrace.
Yin Feng hadn’t expected to dream, and certainly not about the time he was imprisoned in Guizhou.
Since waking from his severe injury, he had recalled many things, including how he and You Mingxu met, grew close, and fell in love. Fragments of his experiences in Guizhou had also come back to him, though not completely. He had a vague sense that he was still forgetting something important, but whenever he tried to delve deeper, his head would ache. He decided to let it be, allowing his memory and mind to recover naturally over time.
Although his subconscious seemed to shy away from those memories, he rarely dreamed of that period. It was as if a barrier separated him from the secrets of that time.
Unexpectedly, on this afternoon filled with gruesome homicide case files and bloody imagery swirling in his mind, he dreamed of it again.
It was an exceptionally quiet room, just as tranquil as this drowsy afternoon.
He seemed to smell the scent of blood, felt pain coursing through his body. Opening his eyes, he saw bloodstains covering the floor.
He was wearing a nearly tattered T-shirt, lying face down on the ground.
Lifting his head, he saw that the room was empty. Not far away stood a table laden with various tools—knives, saws, stun batons, lighters… many of them stained with blood.That was his blood.
Yin Feng slowly crawled to his feet. Even someone as sinister and unyielding as him couldn't help but feel a bone-deep fear when seeing those tools that had once "serviced" his body.
Though there were no guards around now, he knew he could never escape this hell. But since he had managed to stand up, he wanted to walk around for a while.
He didn't know where he was going.
Where was A Xu? Where was his A Xu?
Lost in these old memories, Yin Feng thought of You Mingxu and felt a stabbing pain in his chest. The endless darkness and loneliness stood behind him like a monstrous beast. Unaware, his fingers hanging by the chair's edge clenched tightly.
He stumbled along the dim corridor for a distance. The rough, cold walls felt vivid and strangely familiar—clearly scenes etched deep in his memory. He knew he had been here before, truly been here.
Yin Feng reached a room's entrance and slowly turned his head.
He heard familiar voices inside—two voices he had heard before.
This room had windows, and thus light. A man stood with his back to him before a desk. The figure was so familiar—tall, upright, fond of wearing cold black clothing just like him. Hearing movement, the man turned around, and Yin Feng once again saw those cold, misty eyes that seemed to conceal countless thoughts. On a face strikingly similar to Yin Feng's, a faint, cruel smile appeared.
Yin Chen.
He said: "Yin Feng is being disobedient again, daring to sneak out. Didn't you enjoy how I played with you yesterday? Why not wait obediently? Yin Feng... is my precious treasure, the meaning I want to prove."
Yin Feng heard himself mumble: "Brother..."
Then, he watched the smile fade from Yin Chen's face as he said: "You saw it, didn't you? You know."
Yin Feng slowly turned to look at the person sitting at the desk, half-blocked by Yin Chen.
"He has to know eventually." Yin Feng heard that person say. The voice was familiar, yet he couldn't identify who it was.
He only saw a young man—tall and slender, dressed in black, wearing glasses, seated there. But Yin Feng felt as if struck by a heavy blow. He was... he was...
Yet in the dream, as if shrouded by sunlit clouds, Yin Feng could never clearly see his face, only overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity. It was someone he knew. Someone... impossible to ignore.
The man stood up, his face still hidden as if in mist, patted Yin Chen's shoulder and said: "I've taken a liking to Gu Tiancheng. His transformation and absorption are up to you."
Yin Chen replied: "Fine." Then glanced at Yin Feng, smiled, and said: "What about him?"
The man said: "Since he's almost useless now, just throw him out."
Yin Chen laughed: "You're willing to let him go?"
The man said: "Willing. Personality is a cheap thing—no destruction, no construction; no death, no rebirth."
Yin Feng felt dazed, the familiar voice echoing repeatedly in his mind:
No destruction, no construction; no death, no rebirth.
No destruction, no construction; no death, no rebirth.
No destruction, no construction; no death, no rebirth.
......Vaguely, it seemed as if a great forgotten matter, a deeply hidden secret, was about to reveal a corner of itself to him, yet remained just out of clear view.
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