Unable to Sleep

Morning.

A stretch of Tsing Lung Tau Road had been sealed off by several police cars on both sides, with cordon tape strung up.

"Sir, I was the one who called the police. I was making deliveries this morning when I passed by and saw a taxi parked there from a distance. When I got closer, I noticed someone lying on the ground."

In front of a seafood delivery truck parked by the roadside, a weathered fishmonger in his forties was giving an on-site statement to two police officers.

"About what time was that?" one of the female officers asked.

"I usually leave the market around four-thirty. By the time I drove here..." The middle-aged fishmonger scratched his head, then suddenly held up his fingers. "Five. Around five."

"You deliver goods that early?"

The plainclothes officer beside the female officer grinned skeptically. "The fish market isn't even open yet..."

"Officer, how is that early? I have to make runs to Tsuen Wan and the New Territories, and I have to cross the harbor too..." the fishmonger hurriedly explained.

"Bull, if you don't understand, say less."

The female officer shot the plainclothes officer beside her a look, paused her writing, and fixed her eyes on the seafood vendor. "When you passed by, did you see anyone else?"

The fishmonger grew flustered under her stare and hurriedly shook his head. "No. There's barely anyone on this stretch of road so early in the morning, Officer. I really was the one who called the police..."

Vroom, vroom—

As the middle-aged man spoke, the roar of an engine sounded.

A Toyota sedan pulled up before the cordon. A middle-aged man in a crisp suit stepped out, while a voluptuous beauty remained in the front passenger seat.

"Wow, she's a knockout. Officer Li has found himself another new companion."

The plainclothes officer named Bull stared wide-eyed at the beauty in the Toyota, his face full of envy.

"Get to work."

The female officer had noticed the woman in the passenger seat as well. Slightly irritated, she jabbed Bull with her elbow, then jogged over to the suited middle-aged man.

"Bo, how's the situation?"

The suited middle-aged man scanned the scene and casually asked the female officer who had approached him.

"Officer Li, we've identified the deceased. His name was Lin Guoyu, a night-shift taxi driver. We found a thirty-centimeter boning knife beside the taxi, but there were no wounds on the victim's body. The forensic team said he died after a massive impact broke his ribs, which pierced his heart and lungs, causing fatal internal bleeding."

The female officer called Bo stood before the suited middle-aged man and delivered her report in a precise, formal manner.

"Hit by something?" the suited middle-aged man asked carelessly.

"No. The forensic team said there were no signs of a vehicle collision at the scene. If he'd been struck by a car, we should have found something. Also, it rained continuously from last night until dawn, so we can't lift fingerprints from the boning knife at the scene."

Officer Bo shook her head, then seemed to recall something. "Oh, Officer Li, the media has arrived. Should we make a statement?"

"You want to trigger a taxi strike across all of Hong Kong?" The suited middle-aged man glanced at Bo. "Don't say anything yet. If we really have to, say the taxi driver got out midway and was struck by a car coming from behind."

"Then... then we're not investigating?" Officer Bo asked blankly.

"Of course we are."

The suited middle-aged man replied irritably, "This is obviously a murder case. Don't be so stupid. All right, I'm leaving."

"Oh, right—"

Before leaving, the suited middle-aged man added, "See if there are any witnesses nearby. Based on the estimated time of death, check whether anyone on the road before or after saw anything."

"Yes, sir!" Officer Bo promptly replied.

"Wow, Officer Li is really something."

Watching the Toyota drive away, Bull walked over to Bo's side, his face full of admiration.

"Get to work!" Bo viciously tossed the statement pad in her hands at him.

"What the hell?! Officer Li doesn't care for you, so don't take it out on me!" Bull shouted at Bo's expression.

"You have no idea how formidable Officer Li used to be!"

Bo turned back and glared at Bull, her chest heaving as though she was still fuming.

"Bloody Detective, right? Like anyone doesn't know that."

Bull curled his lip.

"Madam!"

Just then, a uniformed officer hurried over. "A family just filed a report. They said their daughter was kidnapped by a taxi driver last night."

On Dragon Soar Street, not far from Green Dragon Pier, shops lined both sides of the relatively narrow road.

Given Hong Kong Island's population density, even this area around Tsing Lung Tau Pier—which could hardly be called prosperous—still drew a large population thanks to the pier's traffic flow.

Morning was the busiest time on the street. People shouted discounts outside small shops, cutting noises rang from hardware stores from time to time, and steam billowed from restaurant entrances.

On the sidewalks beneath all kinds of signboards were sharply dressed office workers, laborers in undershirts and slippers carrying various goods, and elderly people shuffling along with cardboard in their arms.

Traffic streamed through the street—private cars, taxis, and delivery trucks—and horns blared without pause, creating a vivid, bustling scene.

Inside a third-floor room at a hotel on Dragon Soar Street called Zhongjie Hotel.

Snip, snip—

The crisp scrape of scissors cutting through something sounded intermittently.

After a long while, the cutting stopped, replaced by the sound of running water.

Yang Chu cupped water in his hands and washed his face and hair. Standing in the cramped bathroom, he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

His face was gaunt, his cheekbones high, his slightly sunken eyes calm and detached.

His messy yellow hair had been cut into a crew cut. Above his forehead was a dark red scar, recently scabbed over, like a thick centipede sprawled across his skin.

His body bore numerous injuries. Bruises covered his chest, his ribs protruded one by one, his limbs were thin and withered, and his abdomen was sunken inward.

"This is who I am now."

Yang Chu examined the face and body in the mirror. There was no confusion in his awareness. This weak, battered body was now himself.

After silently standing before the mirror for a while, Yang Chu opened the bathroom door and returned to the room.

"...Yesterday, Happy Valley Racecourse held its season-opening Happy Valley turf race. Jockey Moreira came from behind to win the final race on opening day, carrying that momentum into Happy Valley. Right at the start, he took the lead with 'Yau Miu Tau'..."

A black-and-white television in the corner by the head of the bed was broadcasting yesterday's horse racing news.

After leaving Green Mountain Road, Yang Chu had spent four hundred and fifty Hong Kong dollars to stay at this small Zhongjie hotel on Lung Tang Road.

The hotel room was only seven or eight square meters. Perhaps because the window was small and blocked by surrounding buildings, the room still seemed dim without the lights on even though it was already ten in the morning. The building was old and poorly ventilated, and the air was constantly permeated by a faint moldy smell built up from years of dampness.

After leaving the bathroom, Yang Chu sat down by the bed and pulled one of the plastic bags on the bedside table toward himself.

He first took out the half-bottle of Wong To Yick left in the plastic bag and rubbed it over several bruised and injured areas, as well as the red, swollen spots around his bones. Then he took out gauze, dabbed the water droplets from the wound on his head, applied ointment, and finally wrapped it twice with the gauze.

Lastly, Yang Chu took three boxed meals out of another plastic bag on the bedside table.

Two were char siu meals, and one had goose leg. He had asked the hotel attendant to order them for him.

Yang Chu picked up a pair of disposable chopsticks, opened a meal, and shoveled the food into his mouth. He ate quickly, but chewed every bite thoroughly. His movements resembled a machine processing food.

After finishing one boxed meal, Yang Chu did not immediately start on the second. Sitting on the bed, he slowly closed his eyes.

Soon, rumbling sounds came from Yang Chu's abdomen.

Yang Chu was controlling the peristalsis of his stomach and intestines, accelerating the digestion and absorption of food.

His control over the digestive system was naturally still far from reaching the level of breaking down and absorbing nutrients in the stomach and intestines. But like controlling his heartbeat, he had tried it once before. By speeding up blood circulation, secreting more gastric acid, and using peristalsis to mix food more thoroughly with gastric acid, he could make his digestive system digest and absorb food faster.

About five or six minutes later, Yang Chu opened his eyes again, picked up another boxed meal, and continued shoveling it into his mouth.

Repeating this process, Yang Chu spent roughly twenty minutes finishing all three boxed meals.

He tossed the disposable meal boxes beside the trash can not far from the bedside table. The bin was already stuffed with wrappers from bread, milk, and other food.

Yang Chu had eaten all of it.

All told, Yang Chu had consumed enough that morning to feed an ordinary person for several days.

The benefit of consuming and replenishing so much food and nutrition was that Yang Chu's body recovered at an astonishing pace.

Apart from injuries such as torn ligaments and damaged bones that could not heal immediately, Yang Chu could now feel that this body no longer had that sluggish sensation of having completely run out of energy.

After eating, Yang Chu closed his eyes, relaxed every muscle in his body, and lay flat on the bed without moving.

When the motor system was not engaged in any activity, his conscious mind no longer had to expend much mental effort controlling the operation of his body's circulatory and respiratory systems.

After gradually adapting to this repetitive, regular work, his conscious mind had become increasingly proficient at it, like a skilled worker mastering a craft.

He could even attend to other systems with relative ease, ensuring that his body's internal functions did not fall into disorder.

Only then was Yang Chu finally able to spare some thought for his current circumstances.

He had killed two people.

One was the thug in the warehouse. The name on the man's ID card was Chen Yaowei, and Yang Chu had used the Hong Kong dollars left in the man's wallet and ID to rent this hotel room.

The other was the taxi driver, Lin Guoyu.

The first was tied to certain events involving the identity Yang Chu had inherited before crossing over. After the thug named Chen Yaowei died, two other thugs who had been present had fled. He had no idea how things would develop from there.

As for Lin Guoyu, the taxi driver had appeared to be a deranged psychopath who kidnapped passengers. Yang Chu could be said to have acted in righteous defense by killing him.

But if the police found him and dragged him into legal proceedings, it would still bring plenty of trouble.

Besides, there was no way to know whether the former owner of this body had a criminal record or other problems.

Staying in this hotel was not safe. He could very likely be found before long, and he might even be in some unknown danger.

But—

Yang Chu did not dwell much on either matter.

He had no time to think further about them, or rather, they were not the most important thing to him at this moment.

Yang Chu was facing a problem that made him feel as though he stood on the brink of life and death every moment—he could not sleep.

He could not even doze off for an instant.

His body no longer possessed the subconscious instincts of a living organism. Whether it was the internal operation of systems such as blood circulation, breathing, and digestion, or external actions such as walking and moving, everything relied on his conscious mind for control.

This allowed Yang Chu to control his heartbeat and make his body briefly erupt with tremendous strength and agility. It also allowed him to control his digestive system and replenish nutrients more effectively.

But at the same time, it meant Yang Chu had no way to let his consciousness sleep. Or rather, he did not dare sleep. He had to remain awake at all times.

The moment he fell asleep, his conscious mind would go dormant and cease operating his body's various systems. His heart would stop beating, he would stop breathing, and he would die once again.

Yang Chu's consciousness had been awake in this body for less than a day, yet his conscious mind had not stopped for even a moment. It had constantly expended mental energy to keep everything running.

By now, Yang Chu could already feel his mind beginning to tire.

That was also one reason he needed to consume so much food.

The brain's operation consumed enormous amounts of energy every moment.

For now, Yang Chu could remain awake, but he could clearly feel that he would not be able to endure like this for long.

Unless the problem of being unable to sleep was resolved, his life would be counting down every second.

If he could not let his brain rest, then the moment it lagged even slightly or he nodded off, there would be only one outcome waiting for him.

This was unlike ordinary people, whose subconscious could still keep their bodies functioning after they fell asleep.

Ordinary people would often suddenly wake from their sleep for no apparent reason, or their bodies would jerk violently in a strange reaction.

In truth, that was the subconscious believing the body was close to death and sending a bioelectric pulse to stimulate the person awake.

But Yang Chu had no subconscious. Once he entered a sleeping state, his body would cease functioning, and there would be no subconscious to stimulate him. He would truly die completely.

"I need to find a solution as soon as possible."

Yang Chu opened his eyes and got out of bed.

While he could still hold on, he needed to find a solution as quickly as possible.

He hastily put on the half-dried clothes hanging in the bathroom, opened the door, and left the hotel room.