Chapter 3: Dagger
“I’m sorry…”
It was like a long howl that had suddenly come from nowhere.
He had apologized to her, and it was only an apology.
“Beep beep beep…”
The boy on the other end of the phone seemed to want to say something more, but she had hung up, as if she had run away first. The hunter was so scared by the prey that had escaped from her cage that she was a little ridiculous.
The heart in her chest was squeezing out a turbid juice. She was pinching her fingertips and was trying her best to control her emotions. Her dark eyes were walking out of the bathroom.
“Qian Ge… Qian Ge, let’s go for lunch together. There’s a new Japanese restaurant downstairs.”
Xia Qiange walked past Xiao Qi with a blank expression, as if she hadn’t heard her.
“Hey, I said let’s go for Japanese food at noon…”
Xiao Qi looked back at Xia Qiange, who was walking away with her head down. She frowned and was worried. She then held her documents and chased after her, and she held the corner of Xia Qiange’s clothes. With just a pull, the girl was like a broken wooden doll, and she was stunned on the spot. The folder in her hand hit her feet with a thud, and Xiao Qi immediately stopped her.
“Do you want to… I’ll go and ask Sister Meiman to give you a leave of absence. Let’s have a good rest for two days. For that kind of man, don’t ruin your body…”
Xiao Qi was suddenly indignant, and her words became fierce. “What kind of person is this? He said he wouldn’t get married, and he just left the girl aside and ran away. There are so many men in the world. Is he the only one?”
Only he can.
Xia Qiange turned and glanced at her. Xiao Qi opened her mouth, and her voice disappeared in her throat. The gentle and irrigated eyes were barren, and the blood-red was the setting sun. The next second, it was filled with a dark and gloomy darkness.
“Don’t mind me.”
She bent down and picked up the folder and held it in her arms. She turned and left with Xiao Qi.
It was as if she had changed into a different person, cold and unfeeling, yet real.
…
“I want to resign…”
The woman, who was half-leaning on the leather chair, lazily lifted her eyelids. Her gaze was fixed on the document that was on the table. She was silent, and her eyes were like nails, staring at Xia Qiange.
“Your performance has been good since you became a full-time employee. Many of the old people in the company have praised you for being efficient. You’ll be promoted and get a raise soon. You’re still young… and I’ve brought you up myself. You’ll have a share in this company in the future. But now…”
Yun Meiman tapped the resignation letter on the table. “What does this mean?”
“It’s meaningless.”
She lowered her head and looked at her slender and tender hands, which were as white as snow. In the winter, her old problem would flare up, and she would get frostbite on her hands. He had felt sorry for her and had bought her medicine. After the wound had healed, there was still a very faint scar that had not yet had time to disappear.
She was picking at the scar on her index finger, and she was picking it very hard. The scar was broken, and the blood was flowing. Her nails were as bright red as if they had been painted with a glaze.
“Did you break up?”
The woman was propping up her chin, and her neckline was long and slender. Her eyes were slightly lowered. “I’m an experienced person. For a man… it’s not worth it.”
It was this sentence again. A cold and ruthless look appeared in her eyes, and she let out a very impatient “tsk.” The violent factor in her boiling blood was cheering. A wolf would probably not give up the prey it had its eyes on.
Everyone was persuading her, and they were mentioning it repeatedly. But he was like a thorn in her heart, an incurable and chronic illness, and also like a scar that could not be worn away. After it was torn open, it would bleed, and it would scab, and then it would be torn open again, and it would be repeated, and she would be covered in wounds.
“I’ve already decided. I’ll resign this afternoon. Thank you for your care during this time, teacher.”
Xia Qiange did not give the woman a reason and stood up and left without any reluctance.
…
It was drizzling outside. She was holding an umbrella and was walking out of the company. She was holding a cardboard box with her things in her arms, and it was a little heavy. Her left arm, which was supporting it, was trembling. The umbrella was slowly sinking, and the wind and rain were blowing in, and her left shoulder was wet.
She was walking in the rain with some difficulty, and her gait was slightly swaying. There were many people waiting for the bus at the intersection. Everyone was holding an umbrella, and they were holding up one circle after another in the rain, and they were keeping a distance from her.
She had lost the person she loved again. The world, which had just had some color, was beginning to become gray, dull, and painful…
The sound of the rain was trickling, but the person was silent.
This world had been so boring since she was born. It was as if only when she died would the world become lively and bustling again, and there would be singing and dancing every night.
A taxi slowly stopped in front of her, and its lights flashed a few times, exposing her pale and bloodless face under the umbrella. She forcefully closed the umbrella, and her knuckles were tensed with blood.
She got in the car and gave the last four digits of her phone number. The driver didn’t say anything and continued to drive in a muffled voice.
A fine and fragmented tearing sound came from the back of the car. The paper was rubbing and rustling, and the adhesive was being scratched open by her red nails. The sound was harsh. A series of movements was like she was opening a package, and it had still attracted the driver’s attention.
With the curiosity of a middle-aged man who had nothing to do, he looked back at the girl’s gentle and serene face through the rearview mirror. Her pale face was gloomy under the cover of her hair, and her dark pupils, which occupied most of her eye sockets, were rolling strangely. She was staring at something in the cardboard box with great concentration.
The driver vaguely saw a twisted and dark hemp rope sticking out. Before he could see clearly, a harsh honking sound had drawn his attention back. He came back to his senses and quickly stepped on the gas pedal to start the car. It was driving smoothly on the road. When he looked up at the mirror again, the girl had already put away her things and had closed the cardboard box.
He must have been mistaken. It was something else. He secretly shook his head, blaming himself for watching too many suspense and crime movies recently. Now everything he saw was full of suspicion.
The car stopped not far from the entrance of the neighborhood. The rain had gradually stopped. She got out with the cardboard box without an umbrella. Her steps were slow, and her shoulders were slowly getting wet. The broken bricks of the old neighborhood were soaked with water, and they were separated into scattered and fragmented cracks.
The supermarket downstairs had finally opened these past two days. She had bought some instant food and had also taken the most recent package before she had gone upstairs.
…
The key was inserted, and it was turned. The door opened with a click.
The cardboard box was casually thrown at the entryway by her. The lid of the box was ajar, and the silver handcuffs were reflecting a dazzling light under the dim light.
She was a little thirsty. She took a cup that was covered with a thin layer of dust in the kitchen and rinsed it. She held up a kettle with cold water and poured water. In a daze, she had accidentally poured the water outside the cup. The wet feeling on the instep of her foot had woken her up. She had looked at it for a long time before she had stiffly accepted this fact. She had put down the water cup and had gone back to the living room to get some paper.
Just as she had walked out of the kitchen, her gaze was attracted by the red leather suitcase that had been thrown by the side of the sofa. Her throat rolled, and she walked towards the suitcase step by step as if she were possessed.
The leather suitcase was not locked. After it had been opened once, it had been left here. The lid of the box on top was pressed against the bottom by its weight, and there were very obvious wear marks on the edge, as if it had been deliberately scratched.
Xia Qiange reached out her pale hand and slowly lifted the lid. The dark black background of the box was exposed. Inside was a silver dagger. It was double-edged, and its texture was perfect. The metallic feel was shining brightly, like a finely carved work of art, but it was showing a sharp and sharp blade.
…
“Mom, it’s so hard. Why is there a knife under the pillow?”
“Silly child. Because Mom loves Dad.”
“A knife will hurt people. It will bleed…”
“You’ll understand when you grow up. Be good… go to sleep quickly.”
…
Her fingertips gently brushed over the blade, and a few strands of blood seeped out. They dripped onto the floor along with the melting expression on her face.
