Wen Zhiyao was lying weakly on the bed, her lips dry and cracked. Blood seeped from the crevices. She saw a glass of water on the bedside table - about half full. She reached out to grab it, but ended up knocking it further away...
Jiang She's eyelids twitched slightly.
A touch... He had been emotionally moved.
He took a cigarette from the packet, but couldn't find his lighter anywhere.
Damn, it must have been stolen by Wen Zhiyao.
Grabbing his coat, Jiang She left the office.
On his office desk, in the most conspicuous place, a lighter lay.
—
At seven in the morning, Wen Zhiyao fell asleep. She slept deeply, oblivious to the world outside.
Right then, in the basement car park, Jiang She made a phone call.
Through the rearview mirror, the man's lips moved. "Give me Wen Zhiyao's address in three minutes."
Distancing the call, Jiang She started the engine and drove out of the parking lot.
