Saturday afternoon, March 2, 2013, a sunny day. At Hangzhou's West Lake Cultural Plaza subway station on Line 1.
A traffic light stood in the middle of the road outside the station. At that moment, a man was standing patiently at the crosswalk, pulling a large suitcase behind him, waiting for the green light.
However, it seemed that more people lacked this patience, especially in the busy streets. It was as though a group of people crossing the red light together made it acceptable, and the crowd moved as if no one cared about the rule anymore. People walked briskly, knowing that cars wouldn't dare to run into a group. So, crossing the red light became something inevitable, something everyone did together.
The man looked at the crowd with disdain and sneered, "People can't even remember when they first crossed the red light. After the first time, there's a second time, and a third…"
When the green light turned on, he pulled his suitcase and walked toward the subway station. At the escalator, a young couple walked beside him. As soon as they saw him stepping on, they took a step back, waiting a few seconds before following him. He didn't seem approachable.
He was probably in his early forties, wearing a wrinkled jacket, his hair greasy, as if it hadn't been washed in days. He wore old plastic glasses, and his eyes were slightly swollen and bloodshot. His face was covered in oil and dust, and the heavy smell of alcohol and sweat lingered around him. If he had a couple of sticks in his hands, he would look like a beggar.
No matter how crowded the train was, people would always kindly give a beggar a wide personal space, let alone on the street.
After getting off the escalator, the man dragged his bulky suitcase and continued forward. The smell of alcohol made people move away from him, but he didn't care. He slowly approached the ticket machine, inserted coins, and grabbed a subway card. He then shuffled slowly toward the security checkpoint.
At this point, he noticed a pair of middle-aged men standing at the other entrance of the subway station, looking at him. He adjusted his glasses and glanced back at them. One of the men had an angry expression, his fists clenched, glaring at him, while the other man stood motionless, pointing at his eyes. The man understood and gave a slight nod, then took off his glasses and, with a barely noticeable smile on his face, put them back on and walked away, ignoring them.
As he approached the security checkpoint, he hunched his back, shrinking his head, holding onto his suitcase. Suddenly, he quickened his pace, trying to blend into the crowd and get through the checkpoint unnoticed. But he was stopped by the security guard: "Put your bag on the scanner."
"I… I have a blanket in here," he hesitated for a moment, clutching the suitcase.
The security guard, used to dealing with clueless first-time subway riders, casually replied, "All bags have to go through security."
"It's… it's really just a blanket." He tried to move forward, but the security guard extended his arm and blocked him.
"All bags have to go through security," the guard repeated firmly.
"It's really a blanket, no need for inspection," the man leaned slightly to one side to block the impatient people behind him.
The security guard raised his head, observing the man who smelled strongly of alcohol, his face full of nervousness. The guard furrowed his brows, instinctively tightening his grip on his radio.
After a brief moment of eye contact, the man suddenly kicked the guard in the chest, yelling, "I'm not going in!" He kicked the unprepared guard hard, knocking him over, then turned and shouted fiercely, shoving through the crowd, knocking over a barrier, and running for his life.
As he ran, he tore off his glasses and threw them in front of him, intentionally stepping on them, crushing them.
The security guard quickly scrambled to his feet, grabbing his baton and chasing after him, shouting "Stop!" while urgently calling for backup.
The subway station was crowded, and with the heavy suitcase slowing him down, the man didn't get far before several security guards cornered him. A couple of police officers arrived soon after.
"Don't come any closer!" The man, realizing there was nowhere left to run, stood in the middle of the passage, his suitcase behind him. Crouching slightly, he spread his hand to block the security guards and police, glaring at them. "Stay back! I have a weapon!"
Upon hearing "weapon," everyone instinctively froze, fear creeping into their minds. The police signaled to the passengers to move back.
The passengers in the station watched the scene in surprise. As social norms go, when there's danger, it's better to stay out of it. People quickly took out their phones to snap pictures and share them online. Naturally, a few young women even turned the camera to selfie mode, adding captions like, "I'm at the subway station, something big is happening, so dangerous! Scary!"
The police and security guards kept their eyes locked on the man, prepared for his next move. The man glared back, one hand reaching into his clothes, pulling out a ping-pong paddle. He swung it, shouting, "Stay back! Are you scared? Don't come any closer!"
As the man's "weapon" turned out to be a ping-pong paddle, the crowd burst into laughter, and the flashes of cameras went off even faster.
The police immediately relaxed. It was clear now that this was just a drunk madman. If they moved in to subdue him, they might get a few blows to the head from the paddle, but the man wasn't holding anything dangerous. But the police noticed his last words and shifted their focus to the heavy suitcase behind him. One officer waved his baton and demanded, "What's in the suitcase?"
"There's nothing… nothing!" The man's voice was frantic.
"Open it!" The officer's tone left no room for negotiation.
"No—don't touch it—"
Just as the man tried to defend his suitcase, a police officer tackled him from behind, and soon the others rushed in to subdue him.
With the man under control, the officers looked at the suitcase and were about to open it when the man suddenly shouted, "Don't open it! It's dangerous! It will explode!"
Upon hearing "explode," the officers froze, their hands halting in mid-air. No one dared to approach the suspicious suitcase without caution. The police quickly communicated with their superiors.
A few minutes later, a bomb disposal unit arrived, and after carefully examining the suitcase, they found it wasn't an explosive device. But when they finally opened it, the crowd gasped in unison.
A naked body!
The news broke out across Hangzhou like wildfire.