First Sounds Through the Listening Device and Fury Rekindled
Late at night in cell 107, snores, grinding teeth, sleep talk, and the never-ending drip, drip of water wove together into a suffocating background noise. The stench in the air had long since seeped into every corner, becoming part of every breath.
Lin Feng curled up on the cold bunk. The thin blanket did nothing to ward off the chill seeping through the concrete floor and walls. Every bruise and ache in his body seemed magnified a thousandfold in the silence, but now all his senses, all his attention, were fixed on a faint yet incomparably clear link in his mind-the listening connection leading to the pink charger in room 307 of the girls' dormitory.
It worked. Zhao Si did it. Now I can hear what Zhao Si hears.
The thought echoed over and over in his mind, bringing a trace of twisted excitement, but far more of a tension that was almost convulsive. He lay as still as a stone statue, barely breathing, afraid of missing the slightest sound from the other end of the link.
The initial signal was intermittent, mixed with a faint electrical hiss.
First came a long silence, broken only by indistinct ambient sounds-perhaps the faint hum of a computer fan, or the distant, muffled sound of traffic outside the window.
Then came footsteps and the sound of a door opening and closing.
A rather sharp female voice rang out, complaining, "...I'm dead tired. That old microeconomics professor is such a freak. The key points he marked might as well not have been marked at all..."
Another voice answered lazily, "That's what you get for not paying attention in class... Save me a seat tomorrow, will you? I'm sleeping in tomorrow morning..."
They were Sun Tingting's roommates. Inconsequential chitchat.
Lin Feng's heart rose into his throat, then settled a little. He waited patiently, like a hunter lurking beneath the abyss, waiting for his target to come within range.
Time passed slowly. The conversation turned to new lipstick shades, a celebrity's rumored affair, the awful pork and potato stew in the cafeteria... Trivial and real, yet it made Lin Feng's heart sink bit by bit. Could it be I won't overhear anything useful?
Just as exhaustion and disappointment were about to sweep him away-
The lazy voice, apparently belonging to Sun Tingting's close friend, spoke again, her tone turning suggestive and curious. "Hey, Tingting, stop watching your show. Seriously... Have they finally decided who gets the postgraduate recommendation slots? I think there was some movement on the department's notice board."
Here it comes!
Lin Feng's heart clenched. He held his breath at once, concentrating with all his might.
The listening device fell silent for a few seconds; only the television drama's background audio could be heard. Then Sun Tingting's voice rang out with a deliberately restrained chuckle that couldn't hide her smugness. "Mm-hmm~ Pretty much. All that work finally paid off."
"Wow! Really? Congratulations!" Her friend's voice immediately rose, brimming with exaggerated envy. "I knew it had to be you! Doesn't that mean you ought to give someone a proper thank-you... mm-hmm?" Her tone was full of implication.
"Thank them for what?" Sun Tingting sounded even more cheerful, as though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. "Some people don't know where they're going and walk right into the line of fire. Who can they blame? I just took the opportunity to clear out some trash."
Clear out some trash...
Those words seared themselves into Lin Feng's soul like a red-hot branding iron! His curled-up body went rigid. His nails dug uncontrollably into his palms, and only the sharp pain barely kept him from roaring aloud.
Them! How could they speak so casually of it! They called my life, my innocence, my everything "clearing out trash"!
The conversation continued at the other end of the link.
Her friend giggled. "True. Still, that idiot really was unlucky when you think about it. He's probably still doing time in there, right? Hahaha..."
Sun Tingting gave a scornful laugh, full of contempt. "Who knows? A place like that will give him plenty to suffer. Ugh, just thinking about him makes me sick. Don't bring him up. He'll ruin my mood. Let's watch the show."
The conversation turned back to the dull plot of the television drama.
But Lin Feng could no longer take in a word.
Clear out some trash...
Doing time in there...
Plenty to suffer...
Just thinking about him makes me sick...
Those words circled and crashed wildly through his mind like the most venomous curses! The despair and resentment left behind by the original owner of the body fused completely with his own surging, violent hatred, turning into a destructive force that battered at his chest, threatening to tear him apart!
He clenched his teeth so hard that the immense pressure on his gums produced a grating creak. His body trembled violently with overwhelming rage, and the thin blanket twisted out of shape in his grip. He could only press his forehead hard against the cold, rough wall, trying to use that touch of cold to hold on to his last shred of reason.
I can't make a sound!
I absolutely can't make any sound!
He didn't sleep a wink that night.
Early the next morning, the guard's wake-up call sounded like a funeral bell. Lin Feng crawled up almost on instinct, his eyes terrifyingly bloodshot, his face as pale as paper, an icy aura warning strangers to keep away radiating from him.
"Well, well, what happened to you? Have a wet dream and piss yourself in fright? You look terrible!" Skinny Monkey was the first to notice something wrong and immediately jeered in a shrill voice.
Scar narrowed his eyes and looked over too, then snorted. "A coward's a coward. You even managed to scare yourself like that in your sleep."
Lin Feng folded his blanket in silence, his fingers trembling slightly from the force of his grip. He didn't dare look up, afraid the undisguisable hatred in his eyes would give everything away.
During exercise time, the gloomy sky seemed to reflect his mood. He still huddled in a corner, but the volcano inside him was gathering energy at a furious pace.
Scar seemed to find his condition especially "interesting" today and sauntered over with Iron Head and Skinny Monkey.
"Hey, did your mother die or something? Who are you pulling that sour face for?" Scar nudged Lin Feng's calf with the tip of his shoe.
Lin Feng jerked his head up. His bloodshot eyes, filled with icy hatred, made even Scar pause involuntarily.
"Hey! You dare glare at him?" Seeing this, Iron Head immediately stepped forward and shoved his palm-fan-sized hand against Lin Feng's chest.
Caught off guard, Lin Feng staggered backward. His back slammed against the cold wall with a thud, the impact making his insides feel as though they had been knocked out of place. Worse still, his feet happened to be on a small patch of mud where rainwater from two days ago had yet to dry. The impact and the slip sent him off balance, and he landed on his backside in the muddy water.
The cold mud soaked through his thin prison uniform in an instant.
"Hahaha!" Skinny Monkey burst into shrill laughter. "Nice fall! A dog eating shit! Or is that muddy shit?"
Scar and Iron Head grinned too, while several nearby prisoners cast gloating looks his way.
Lin Feng sat in the muddy water, cold and filthy from head to toe. Humiliation coiled around his heart like a poisonous vine, tightening more and more. And the words he had heard last night-"clear out some trash," "doing time in there"-rang shrilly in his ears once again!
The humiliation and rage assailing him from within and without threatened to swallow him whole!
When Scar had laughed enough, he pointed his chin at him. "Fuck, you got your uniform filthy! Looks like you've got too much energy. When we get back, forget everything else. Use your hands and wipe the floor of cell 107 clean for me, carefully, inch by inch! You hear me?"
Use my hands... wipe the floor...
Lin Feng kept his head down, staring at his mud-covered hands, his body trembling even harder. Muddy water dripped from the ends of his hair, freezing cold.
He didn't answer. He simply used every ounce of strength he had to rise slowly and with extreme difficulty from the mud. Each step felt as heavy as a thousand tons.
Back in the cell, he was immediately ordered to carry out his "punishment."
He had no tools, only his bare hands and a rag so dirty its color was impossible to make out.
He knelt on the cold concrete floor and began wiping it, holding the rag in his hands and dipping it into the icy, dirty water in the bucket. Each stroke felt like it was grinding away what little dignity he had left. Behind him came the idle chatter of Scar and the others, and the occasional contemptuous glance.
His movements were mechanical and numb, but deep within him, the volcano erupted with hotter, darker lava because of what he had learned last night and the humiliation he had suffered today!
Hate!
An all-consuming tide of hate!
I hate not only Sun Tingting, Li Jing, and Zhang Qian outside!
I also hate Scar, Iron Head, and Skinny Monkey right here!
I hate this unjust world!
As he wiped the floor, the fragments he had overheard echoed wildly in his mind. Every word became fuel, feeding the flames of his hatred.
Just wait.
All of you, just wait!
He clenched his teeth and forced the roar that was nearly spilling out of his throat back down, swallowing it along with the taste of blood.
Night fell once more.
When darkness returned to the cell and Lin Feng once again focused his entire mind on the listening link, his emotions were no longer simple tension and anticipation. They were mixed with an urgency bordering on madness!
I need to hear more!
I need conclusive evidence!
I need to aim this endless hatred precisely at every damned enemy!
He curled up in the darkness like a wounded, starving wolf, licking his wounds and sharpening his fangs, waiting for the next sound, waiting to plunge the sharp blade called truth deeper into his enemies' hearts.
The night was still long.
The flames of vengeance had only just begun to blaze.