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墨書 Inktalez
"Don't just stand there, hurry up!"
Du Rong grabbed my wrist with an astonishing strength. Her eyes, usually filled with confusion, now sparkled with an unprecedented determination.
Her chest heaved violently, the slightly revealing restaurant uniform she wore soaked with cold sweat, clinging tightly to her curvy body.
The sound of police sirens grew closer, like an invisible noose tightening around everyone's necks.
I struggled for a moment, but my gaze was fixed on the pack of Zhonghua cigarettes in the corner of the table.
That cigarette lay there quietly, like a prophecy of fate.
"Wang Zheng, what are you waiting for?"
Du Rong's voice trembled with urgency as she tugged at me desperately, her nails nearly digging into my flesh.
She stealthily slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand, her fingertips cold as if they were electrified.
Without saying a word, she signaled me with her eyes to keep it safe.
A photo?
A chill ran through me as I suddenly understood.
It was not just a photo; it was the fuse that could ignite everything.
I abruptly turned my head to look at the restaurant, now in chaos after the police stormed in.
The air was thick with the mingled stench of tobacco, sweat, and fear—sharp and suffocating.
The police quickly took control of the situation. The cold handcuffs clicked shut around Li Yan and Gao Chen.
Li Yan's body slumped like a deflated balloon, completely collapsing into the chair, her gaze vacant.
His corpulent body slumped against the chair, as if all his bones had been extracted, no longer exuding the arrogance he once had.
Gao Chen was still struggling, trying to muster his last ounce of strength, but the tape clung tightly to his wrists like a venomous snake, constricting more and more.
His usually hypocritical face was now twisted like a vengeful spirit, veins bulging.
“It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!”
Zhao Yuan screamed, attempting to rush toward me, her nails clawing at the air in a frantic effort to tear something apart.
Her face, covered in greasy makeup, was now a complete mess, resembling a clown.
Her plump body struggled violently under the control of several police officers, shouting incoherent nonsense.
“It was Wang Zheng! He designed everything! I had nothing to do with it!”
Her voice was sharp and grating, like a dull knife trying to cut through everyone’s defenses.
But when the police picked up the torn photograph from the corner of the dining table, Zhao Yuan's screams abruptly ceased.
The picture clearly showed her conspiring with Li Yan against a dark basement backdrop.
Gao Chen's gaze fixated on the photograph, his pupils dilating in shock.
He seemed struck by lightning, frozen in place, devoid of any will to resist.
A bitter smile crept across Li Yan's lips, tinged with despair.
“Wang Zheng… you’ve won…”
His voice was low and hoarse, carrying an air of resigned finality.
I watched them, my heart devoid of any waves, even feeling a sense of emptiness.
The so-called revenge turned out to be nothing more than a farce.
In the restaurant, only chaos and despair remained, each person like a puppet stripped of their soul, at the mercy of the police.
Du Rong was taken away by a female officer, and before she left, she glanced back at me.
Her gaze was complex and contradictory, filled with a hint of reluctance, a touch of worry, and perhaps… relief?
I stood amidst the ruins, my feet on shards of broken glass and the greasy dishes overturned by Zhao Yuan.
The air was thick with the scent of burnt tobacco ash.
My heart felt like dead ashes.
I pulled out the photograph that Du Rong had given me from my pocket. In the dim light, I saw a line of small writing on the back:
"Go to XX District, find Doctor Zhang; he knows everything."
XX District? Doctor Zhang?
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