Song Lan always felt that Lu Xiang was a downright manly woman... a heroine among women in her work.
After spending a lot of time together, a subtle telepathy had developed between them.
Whenever Song Lan conceived of some inappropriate metaphor in his mind, Lu Xiang would always deliver a dangerous look in time, just like now. Her scalpel paused, casting a fleeting glance at him before accurately returning to the chest of the Cavalry corpse.
Song Lan felt a chill over his heart, always having the misperception of a blade crossing his own skin.
Lu Xiang took over the Cavalry corpse with an impassive face, borrowing a deserted house from the townspeople to begin the autopsy.
She seemed never to know what a psychological shadow was, while the sight of the Cavalry's internal structure, or even the sound of the scalpel slicing through the skin, made Song Lan's scalp tingle.
The dismembered bodies, the dissected organs—these were not sights meant for the eyes of an ordinary citizen.
