“Before Huang Yuanwei died, I made a point of seeing him.”

The teenager smiled. “I put on makeup, wrapped myself up tightly, and disguised myself as an obese middle-aged man coming for a consultation.

I casually walked through the narrow corridor, brushing past the doctors and nurses hurrying by.

Taking advantage of the moment I passed the hospital room door,

I glanced into the crack of the door without looking directly.

I saw him lying on the bed, his throat tight, his eyelids lowered.

He was clearly conscious, but trapped within his paralyzed body,

desperately trying to wiggle his fingers to explain his condition to the doctors and nurses.

I thought I would be nervous, would tremble,

but to my surprise, watching the dying Huang Yuanwei, I felt nothing.

Like watching the last domino teeter and fall, there was no sense of accomplishment from a plan realized, or the joy of revenge.

Just like when I design and build a Rube Goldberg machine,

after completing the cold, logical calculations, the result is exactly as expected, with no surprises.”

The teenager thought carefully and added, “For me, revenge isn't the ultimate goal.

Its main purpose is to make me feel a little happier, a little lighter—to think that you incorrigible scum can still walk in the sunlight, hidden among the crowds, enjoying your wonderful lives,

makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

I don't want to watch you live a peaceful life and die of old age.

I don't want to hide in the shadows, impotently raging, silently cursing, cursing you to get your just desserts, praying for the heavens to inflict divine punishment.

Bad people act with impunity, only when good people do nothing.

So, I spent a lot of time and energy learning knowledge, training myself, mastering skills, and taking action myself to make my thoughts clear again.”

The old woman's already aged and ugly face became even more hideous from excessive fear.

Her teeth chattered. “You...you can't do this.

Zhang Deping, Tong Yongguang, Ren Fa, Zhao Haining, they escaped punishment. They haven't been to jail. They deserve it!

I'm different. I've been in jail for ten years. I've already paid for my sins...”

“Sorry, that's what you think.”

The teenager shook his head indifferently. “Most ordinary people in this world are normal and kind,

but there's always a small group of outliers.

They have no basic compassion for the suffering of others.

They create suffering, enjoy suffering, and can obliterate their humanity and commit any evil for profit.

Their existence is synonymous with 'evil' itself.

The tears they shed in court are not tears of repentance, but simply fear of death, and regret for being caught.

Punishment and imprisonment cannot make them repent.

Every day and night, trapped in their cells, they look up at the ceiling, and what flashes before their eyes is not remorse and atonement,

but the tearful faces of the victims they saw when they were criminals—

they repeatedly revisit that moment in their memories, savoring the instant they held the power of life and death over others,

and sincerely feel grateful for the laws and human rights.

Grateful that human rights allow them, like cancer, to continue to exist in this world.”

The teenager said calmly, “You are that kind of person.

I can dispose of other people as I please, but for you, I have to create a high-quality ending.

I waited a year after you got out of prison, calmly watching your life,

hoping you would live well, preferably happily,

so that when I end you, I can make you feel the same pain of happiness being wantonly destroyed.

Whether it's fortunate or unfortunate, you haven't been happy this past year.

But since a year has passed, I don't want to wait any longer—if you die early, I'll be heartbroken.

The greatest sorrow in the world is wanting to care for your parents, but they are gone.”

Perhaps sensing the calm killing intent from the teenager's indifferent statement,

the old woman wept and wailed, “Xiao Qiang, please let me go, it wasn't me who threw you in the river, it wasn't me...”

“Mom, how could you forget?”

The teenager smiled. “I'm not Xiao Qiang.”

“What...”

The old woman's brain stopped for a moment. She stared intently at the teenager's face, and after a moment, she finally realized,

the look of despair on her face instantly replaced by resentment. “It's you! I raised you for four years! I treated you like my own son for four years! And this is how you treat me!”

“Heh, at this point, don't put on the act of a loving mother,”

the teenager shook his head. “My parents sold me to you for money when I was three years old.

During those four years you had me, you simply couldn't find a good buyer, after all, I was smart and knew how to play dumb.

Well...actually, I wasn't that precocious.

If I had stayed with you at that time,

it might have taken me another year or two to slowly figure out my situation, and then I would have tried to kill you.

Too bad, you and Uncle Hou were being pursued, and you threw the constantly crying Xiao Qiang into the river.

He floated downstream, thrashing in the river,

his head sometimes rising, sometimes sinking, like a gourd.”

A look of earnest recollection appeared on the teenager's face. “Xiao Qiang was my best friend.

I bit your hand, broke free, and jumped into the river with him.

You thought we were dead, but we weren't.

On the contrary,

I rescued Xiao Qiang from the river, dragged him ashore, and ran up the mountain, afraid you would come after us.

As a result, we got lost.

In our hunger, desperation, and helplessness, we met a little girl who had come to Sheshan Mountain with her family to play.

From her, we begged a bag of biscuits.

I will never forget the taste of that bag of biscuits—although she has forgotten all about it.”

The teenager sighed with mixed emotions. “Originally, Xiao Qiang should have been standing here today as well,

but his health wasn't good. He was riddled with illness and died in an orphanage—sometimes I often hate myself for not working hard enough to become a doctor sooner.

In any case, it should be said that it was fate,

that you were released from prison after a year, which also happens to be his death anniversary.”

The teenager stood smiling where he was.

Behind him, plant tendrils slowly surged out, dancing wildly like Medusa's hair, casting a dense shadow in the sunlight,

extending towards the old woman bit by bit.

“Murder! Help!”

The old woman screamed in terror, but the riverbank was deserted, with only the slightly chilly morning breeze and flowing water making sounds.

She turned around, wiggled her obese body, and started to run,

but before she could take a few steps, a vine lashed out and wrapped around her ankle, yanking her down with a "bang."

No matter how she wept and wailed, her fingers desperately scraping across the ground, her fingernails torn off, dripping with blood,

she couldn't stop herself from being slowly dragged backward...

Finally, only the teenager was left on the riverbank. He closed his eyes, smiled, took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh suburban air into his lungs, and then slowly exhaled.

The sunlight still lazily sprinkled on the earth, as if it had not witnessed the scene just now.

————

“Doing a divination for a human trafficker?”

In the restaurant, Bai Haozheng, dressed in a suit and with feminine, handsome features, pushed aside the clearly unfinished but exquisitely arranged plate of leftover food.

He looked at Wei Linglan and Chu Yin, who were sitting at the table, and sighed helplessly.

He picked up the wet wipe next to the plate and carefully wiped his pianist-like slender, straight fingers,

then leaned back and used his middle finger to gently push up his gold-rimmed glasses. “I say, I'm a top-notch intelligence analyst, after all.

Even if you don't respect my profession, you have to respect my hourly rate.

Don't come to me every time a little cat or dog gets lost.”

“There's no other way. Xiao Zhu is still in quarantine, so we had to come to you.”

Chu Yin clasped her hands together, tilted her head, and blinked her eyes at Bai Haozheng with a very malicious hint of moe, emitting bulinbulin light.

She used a skill called [Dazzling Eyes], so it was literally emitting light.

“...”

Bai Haozheng shook his head helplessly, reached out and picked up Qi Lianxiang's photo from the table, closed his eyes and pondered for a few seconds,

then suddenly opened his eyes, straightened his expression, and said in a deep voice, “The person in the photo is no longer in this world.”

“Not in this world?”

Wei Linglan stood up subconsciously. “What do you mean? Dead?”

“Hard to say.”

Bai Haozheng put down the photo, his brows furrowed tightly. “I can't divine her past, present, or future. Her life seems to have been forcibly erased midway by someone.

Either, she was involved in some kind of extremely mysterious abnormal event,

or, a god spent a lot of divine power to interfere with her trajectory.”

He looked at Wei Linglan and Chu Yin seriously, and said in a deep voice, “What kind of things have you gotten involved in?”

Wei Linglan instantly thought of what Wang Fengnian had said yesterday about Qi Lianxiang living in a tent. Not having time to explain, she picked up her phone and made a call.

A few minutes later, several black luxury cars drove out of the Special Affairs Bureau base and rushed to that street.

Bang.

The car door opened,

and Wei Linglan's shoes stepped onto the brick pavement.

The sunlight cast her shadow in the alleyway.

Ignoring the whispers of the surrounding crowd near the black cars,

she walked forward slowly.

A breeze blew, lifting the corner of the tent,

Inside, there was nothing.

————

“Teammates? Teammates? Someone help me?!”

Miss Chai, lying on the sofa fiddling with her phone, wailed continuously, wishing she could get into the game and strangle her teammates while giving them a friendly greeting.

Click.

The door was pushed open, and Li Ang, wearing sportswear, walked in, quietly closing the door behind him, and silently poured himself a glass of milk.

“Back from your morning run?”

Miss Chai raised her head, looking at Li Ang, who was leaning against the table drinking milk, with a faint hint of doubt.

She felt that something seemed to have changed about Li Ang...

“What's wrong?”

Li Ang turned his head, put down the glass, and smiled. “Why are you looking at me?”

“Nothing...”

Miss Chai tilted her head, shrugged indifferently. “Just think, your smile seems a lot more relaxed.”