Sitting on the sofa in Room 1801 of the Changcheng Residential Complex, Wang Jie wore a frighteningly grim expression. His pupils twitched slightly, concealing the fear and tension deep in his eyes.
The apartment was lavishly furnished and fully equipped. The world's finest brands were merely the baseline; many of its ornaments were unique pieces designed by masters and made by hand.
Living in a home like this was a lifelong dream for countless people, yet its owner sat with his hands clasped together, his nails digging into the backs of his hands until they bled.
"Who found it?"
An opened gift box sat on the coffee table in front of Wang Jie. Inside was a knife with its tip broken off.
The blade was long and slender, with mud and blackened water weeds clinging to its handle. Up close, it gave off a foul, fishy stench.
"He found my murder weapon, but why send it to me? What else does he know? He saw me commit the murder!"
Wang Jie gripped his hair, his handsome face twisting.
"I can't remember. There's so much I can't remember. How did this happen?"
Wang Jie released his hair and slowly reached for the knife, taking hold of it once more.
The memory he had buried deepest, the one he least wanted to face, surfaced. It was his first murder. After meticulous planning, he had killed a homeless man whom no one paid any attention to.
The knife had pierced the man's body, but it was nothing like his practice sessions. He had been too nervous. The blade had struck bone, and he had even accidentally injured himself.
The knife carried not only the victim's blood but his own. It absolutely could not be found!
His clenched jaw gradually relaxed. Wang Jie stared