Even upon seeing the death notices plastered all over the hospital ward, Situ An's mother still refused to believe it, or perhaps she had the answer in her heart all along, she just didn't want to admit it.
Picking up the blood-stained surgical knife from the ground, Gao Ming walked toward Situ An's mother; they stood in the corridor adorned with Situ An's lifetime of memories, looking at each other.
"If the devil came to earth, it would probably look just like you, huh?" The middle-aged woman leaned against the wall, blood-red sunlight sliding over her shoulders. In this grotesque and ugly world, she stood out as different.
Gripping the knife, Gao Ming didn't answer the middle-aged woman's question. The tip of his blade slowly lifted, but it didn't pierce the woman's body.
Under Xuan Wen's puzzled gaze, Gao Ming gently sliced open the wound on his chest.
