"Aren't you Wang Xiaoming's dad?" the old lady holding a vegetable basket suddenly spoke up.
"That's me." The criminal—no, Wang Xiaoming's father—struggled to his feet and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, but it only smeared more, staining his lips with a grotesque spread that looked rather like a vampire out of Western legend.
"What's all this about? Why the covered face?" the old lady asked, confusion in her eyes which also held a hint of wariness.
Wang Xiaoming's father was named Wang Yong, and he was quite familiar with the old lady with the vegetable basket. Their children both attended first grade at the same school, even in the same class. They often saw each other when picking up their children or at parent-teacher meetings—sort of familiar strangers, you could say.
When the onlookers realized Wang Yong was also a student's parent, curiosity peaked. Could it be that this man had lost all conscience and even intended to harm his own child?
