"Sent by Bing-ge?"
Zhang Yuanqing finished reading the letter and frowned.
What does "change your life" mean? What does "uncontrollable" imply?
Seriously, couldn't he have been clearer…?
His gaze returned to the black card, examining it repeatedly. It looked like an ordinary card—nothing special. If anything stood out, it was the texture. The material felt rare.
Could it be some kind of VIP membership for an exclusive club? Well, a true man like me is probably the only one who can handle those 36D hostesses.
Lei Yibing was his childhood friend, nicknamed A-Bing. He was two years older than Zhang Yuanqing. Before his grandparents moved into a new house, their families lived in the same alleyway.
Lei Yibing was both strong and fast—scoring double A in power and agility, but only a C in intelligence. He had always looked out for Zhang Yuanqing, taking the lead in fights, staying behind to cover their retreat, and stepping up whenever anyone mocked Zhang Yuanqing for not having a father.
That's why Zhang Yuanqing always called him Bing-ge.
Back in high school, A-Bing's grades weren't great, so he went to university in Jiangnan Province. Ever since then, their contact had dwindled.
Now, Zhang Yuanqing stuffed the black card into his jacket pocket and grabbed his phone to send Bing-ge a teasing message:
"Which club's VIP card is this? At least give me an address or a contact number."
Thirty minutes passed, and there was still no reply.
So, Zhang Yuanqing simply dialed Bing-ge's number.
After two rings, the call connected. But instead of his friend's voice, a deep, solemn tone came from the speaker:
"Hello, this is Lei Yibing's father."
"Uncle Lei?" Zhang Yuanqing was momentarily stunned before breaking into a smile.
"Bing-ge's back in Songhai this week? Let me talk to him, I need to ask him something."
There was a pause on the other end. Then, Uncle Lei spoke again—his voice filled with sorrow.
"Yuanzi, I'm in Jiangnan Province… A-Bing is missing."
---
Missing?!
Zhang Yuanqing froze in place. A few seconds later, he asked in confusion and urgency:
"What happened?"
How could Bing-ge go missing? He literally just sent me something…
"He disappeared two nights ago," Uncle Lei said, his voice heavy with emotion. "Your Aunt Zhou and I received a notice from the university yesterday, so we rushed over immediately."
"Did you report it to the police? What did the Public Security Bureau say?" Zhang Yuanqing asked in a low voice.
There was a long silence before Uncle Lei hesitated and said, "It's… complicated. A-Bing's disappearance is strange."
Strange? What does that mean? Zhang Yuanqing was puzzled.
"A-Bing vanished from his dorm room two nights ago," Uncle Lei explained. "The police checked the surveillance footage from the dorm hallway. The footage shows that A-Bing never left his room all night… but by morning, he was gone."
"His roommates said they saw him before going to bed, but when they woke up, he was gone. They just assumed he had gone out early."
Zhang Yuanqing blurted out, "How is that possible?!"
People don't just disappear into thin air. Even a three-year-old wouldn't believe that.
Suppressing the growing anxiety in his heart, Zhang Yuanqing lowered his voice and asked, "Uncle Lei, did Bing-ge offend someone at school?"
His first thought was that Bing-ge had provoked the wrong people—someone with enough power to manipulate surveillance footage and suppress evidence, perhaps even with the school's involvement.
In this digital age, anyone who's spent enough time online has heard similar stories.
"The school says they'll cooperate with the police as much as possible," Uncle Lei sighed. "But the officers told us to go home and wait. They're 'investigating'…"
Just as I thought… damn it.
Taking a deep breath, Zhang Yuanqing reassured him, "Don't worry, Uncle Lei. You know my grandfather is a retired police chief, and my cousin is a team leader at the Public Security Bureau. I'll ask them how to handle this. If you have any questions, call me anytime.
"Also, try to talk to Bing-ge's classmates. If he got into trouble, someone has to know about it."
Uncle Lei seemed slightly relieved. "Got it, Yuanzi. Don't worry, I'll let you know if there's any news."
After hanging up, Zhang Yuanqing felt restless. He paced around his room, anxiety gnawing at him.
People don't just disappear.
If the surveillance footage showed nothing unusual, that only meant one thing—someone tampered with it.
But who would target Bing-ge? A third-year college student… who could he possibly have offended?
Wait…
Two nights ago.
That's the same night Bing-ge mailed me the package.
Zhang Yuanqing's breath caught. It took 2–3 days for a package from Jiangnan Province to reach Songhai. That meant…
He went missing the same night he sent me the black card.
Was this just a coincidence? Or was there a deeper connection?
His instincts screamed at him. He reached into his jacket pocket to grab the black card.
His fingers found nothing.
The black card was gone.
Did it fall out? Zhang Yuanqing frantically searched the floor.
Nothing.
He dropped to his hands and knees, peering under the bed. The dust-covered floor held a few scattered coins, a pen, some buttons—but no black card.
It vanished.
His heart pounded as cold fear crept up his spine.
Bing-ge's disappearance. The cryptic letter. The mysteriously vanishing black card.
A terrifying thought took hold.
"Could the black card be related to Bing-ge's disappearance?"
He needed answers. Fast.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to use his "condition" to rewind his memory.
Pouring cold water into a glass, he grabbed a pill bottle from his bedside table. He unscrewed the cap, kicked off his shoes, and lay down.
He closed his eyes. In his mind, he visualized a face—the face of his father.
The key to triggering his "condition" was focusing on an image—something once familiar but now blurred by time.
This technique would stimulate his brain, ignite neural activity, and eventually push his cognition into overdrive.
His father's face, long forgotten, began to sharpen. Details emerged. Then—his heartbeat surged, as if his brain was an engine revving into the red zone.
Suddenly—
His memory replayed in perfect detail.
He watched himself open the package. Read the letter. Place the black card into his jacket pocket.
Then he sent Bing-ge a message.
Half an hour passed. He sat at his desk, scrolling through short videos. Checking the game group chat. Sending some… spicy images.
(Okay, but those were premium images…)
Then he got restless. Pacing. He reached into his pocket—and the card was gone.
Zhang Yuanqing's eyes snapped open.
It really disappeared.
Just like Bing-ge.
A chill ran through his body. What the hell did Bing-ge send me?
A sudden cacophony of whispers erupted in his ears—overlapping voices, chaotic and unintelligible. His mind exploded with fragmented visions.
Blood trickled from his nose. A searing pain drilled into his skull.
Gasping, he crawled toward his nightstand, fumbling for the blue pills. He shoved five into his mouth and gulped down water.
His breathing slowed. His mind steadied.
Bing-ge's disappearance is connected to the black card.
But why send it to me? Why not the police?
Unless…
The police in Jiangnan couldn't be trusted.
"Ding-dong!"
The doorbell rang.
A voice echoed from the hallway.
"Hello, we're investigators from Kangyang District Public Security Bureau. Is Zhang Yuanqing home?"
---