A fine drizzle blurred the world.
Under the dim yellow streetlights, the pool of blood stood out starkly.
Looking at the figure lying in the pool of blood before him, Nan Tian felt the blood throughout his body turn cold, the chill relentlessly creeping up his neck.
—In less than a few minutes, Zheng Qiang had died right in front of him in an exceedingly decisive manner.
Though he desperately wanted to convince himself that it had all been an accident, whether it was the bone-chilling cup on the desk earlier or the two black shadows crawling over the other man's shadow that he had seen around the corner, every single thing challenged his understanding of the world.
And whether by coincidence or not, Zheng Qiang's half-smashed head happened to be facing his way. His hollow eyes stared straight at him, as if he wanted to convey something.
...All of a sudden, Nan Tian saw Zheng Qiang smile at him.
Someone had died outside the hospital. For this renowned top-tier hospital in the city, it was naturally a matter of utmost importance.
Before long, police cars arrived with sirens blaring.
As the last person the deceased had seen before his death, Nan Tian, a psychiatrist, was naturally brought to the police station as well.
There was naturally no real suspicion cast on him. After all, the hospital surveillance footage showed everything clearly: after Zheng Qiang left his office, he went straight up to the top floor in the elevator, then jumped without hesitation. He had clearly made up his mind beforehand.
Moreover, Zheng Qiang had been acting rather strange before that, so Nan Tian was not kept there long. After giving a simple statement, he left the police station.
...But after this incident, Nan Tian knew perfectly well that both