*
Xu Xiangyang rode his motorbike at breakneck speed, too frantic to contemplate anything else.
It had only taken him half an hour to get from his home to his destination, but it felt like a century had passed.
The night was deep, and the entrance of Qingjiang Garden was as resplendent as a palace, the nearby riverbank willow branches illuminated so brightly they looked as though wrapped in tiny light bulbs.
As soon as he saw the bridge, buried deep in the night, Xu Xiangyang hurriedly jumped off his bike and sprinted towards the gate, nearly taking a tumble in his staggering pace;
Xu Xiangyang was halfway there when he remembered that he hadn't taken off his helmet. He reached up, yanked the strap from under his chin, and without a glance, tossed it behind him as he ran headlong across the bridge.
His eyelids began to twitch uncontrollably even before he was close to the squad leader's home in the center of the complex.
