"D-don't joke around!" Even after seeing Teacher Xia draw a knife, Aqi still couldn't wrap his head around it. Teacher Xia had donated a school to the Old District and was a renowned painter in the city. Many members of high society took pride in collecting his paintings. How could someone like him be a murderer?
"Why couldn't it be me?" There was no killing intent about Teacher Xia, and the same gentle smile remained on his face.
"I told you, I saw it! A monster was the killer!" Aqi had never suspected Teacher Xia, nor did he think the frail-looking man would be a match for him.
"Sometimes, what your eyes see isn't necessarily the truth." Teacher Xia swung his arm. Before Aqi could react, a thin line of blood had appeared across his neck. He felt no pain, only something like a mosquito bite.
"Sleep well. I'll wake you when morning comes." Teacher Xia carefully committed every expression on Aqi's face to memory, then closed his eyes.
The crates of soda bottles resembled a glass palace, and this warmhearted, cheerful young man collapsed onto his own throne.
In no hurry to leave, Teacher Xia took a few breaths of the blood-scented air, a faint smile on his face.
Turning leisurely, Teacher Xia headed toward the most chaotic cluster of buildings in the Old District. His bag held expensive new medicine he had brought back from the city, which he distributed generously to the gravely ill poor. Amid their words of thanks, he reached the basement of an old building.
The entire building seemed to have no lights installed. It was darker here than elsewhere in the Old District, as though some force had swallowed the light.
He knocked on the door in a fixed rhythm. A few seconds