Chapter 2

On the coal train heading east, Liu Handong was breathing heavily, still shaken by the events of the past hour. There was too much to process, and his right hand was bleeding again. The wound on his waist, soaked with sweat, was burning with pain.

Liu Handong had a canvas waist bag tied around his waist, containing all his possessions: his discharge papers, ID card, bank card, keys, mobile phone, sunglasses, coins, and a third-class merit medal. These items had deflected most of the knife stabs, allowing him to survive by a stroke of luck.

A bruise had formed around his neck, slightly swollen, like a fleshy necklace. His attacker had clearly intended to kill him, as they needed to eliminate him to cover up the kidnapping. This excuse seemed flimsy, and Liu Handong felt that his attackers had planned to kill him from the moment he got on the train.

Liu Handong didn't care why they had kidnapped the little girl; he was struggling to save himself. The kidnappers' accomplices were clearly corrupt police officers, who had quickly transported the two injured kidnappers, indicating that someone had been tailing them all along. This realization hit him like a bolt of lightning: they were trying to frame him.

A news article from yesterday's Huaijiang Morning News came to mind. It reported that a black car driver who had sexually assaulted and murdered a young female passenger in the suburbs had been charged and might face the death penalty. Without a computer or internet access on his phone, the newspaper was his only source of information. This news, which he had seen casually, now connected the dots in his mind.

Liu Handong didn't trust the police's investigative abilities. The crashed car was his, the blood-stained dagger had his fingerprints, and he had resisted arrest and fled. Even jumping into the Huaijiang River wouldn't clear his name. Kidnapping and murder would certainly result in a death sentence.

He tried to calm himself down and analyze the situation. The scrapped Santana he had bought for 5,000 yuan from a small repair shop, without showing his ID, had a chassis number that couldn't be traced. The license plate, bought for 400 yuan, was fake. The police could trace his identity from these clues, but it would take time.

No one could prove his innocence, and even if the kidnapped girl were found, it wouldn't help. She might not have seen the kidnappers or known how many there were, and she might mistake him for one of them, which was why she had run away.

The train continued eastward. If the police weren't stupid, they would know he had escaped by clinging to the train. Feeling unsafe, Liu Handong found an opportunity to jump off and walked back along the railway tracks. It started raining, and the rain grew heavier. Lightning split the night sky, followed by rolling thunder. There was a culvert nearby, where scavengers and homeless people often slept. Soaked to the bone, Liu Handong went over and found an empty spot to rest.

An old man sleeping nearby got up and stared at him. In the darkness, his glasses glinted. Liu Handong became alert and moved back. The old man asked, "Are you injured?"

"Yeah," Liu Handong replied, not wanting to talk much.

"Disinfect it," the old man said, handing him a 250 ml bottle of Erguotou liquor.

Liu Handong took it, lifted his shirt, and poured it on his waist wound and right hand. The alcohol stung, making him flinch. The old man pulled out a clump of cotton from his blanket, lit it with a lighter, and pressed it on the wound, stopping the bleeding.

"Thanks, scavenger?" Liu Handong asked.

"Petitioner," the old man replied, turning to lie down and go back to sleep.

The rain stopped before dawn. Liu Handong left the culvert. The road outside was muddy and difficult to walk on. After a long time, he managed to catch a private long-distance bus into the city, spending 5 yuan to reach the long-distance bus station. He then took a bus back to his rented apartment, a four-story building from the 1960s. Liu Handong lived on the top floor on the west side, where it was unbearably hot in summer. The toilet was shared and often clogged, but the rent was cheap.

There wasn't much of value in the apartment—just two sets of clothes and a bed. Liu Handong estimated that the police wouldn't find him so quickly, so he decided to take his things.

Just as he finished folding the quilt, he heard heavy footsteps in the hallway. It was around 8:00 AM, and it was unusual for so many visitors to come at this time. He peeked out and saw a group of men in black T-shirts, with short hair and gold chains, clearly gang members, ascending the stairs.

Liu Handong instinctively knew they were after him. The building had only one hallway, and his room had a cast-iron window grille, making it impossible to escape. The only way out was to the rooftop, but the iron door was locked with a large Sanhuan lock.

The gang members had already reached the top. Seeing Liu Handong, they slowly took out long knives and galvanized pipes wrapped in newspapers. Without a word, they approached. Liu Handong took a few steps back, grabbed a large wrench from behind his door, and charged forward. He knew he had to fight for his life.

The gang members didn't expect Liu Handong to be so fierce and retreated a few steps. However, more were still coming. The leader, a burly man, pointed his knife at Liu Handong and said, "Kill him!"

Suddenly, Liu Handong saw a vision of himself being chopped into pieces, with his mother in tears. In that moment, he felt a surge of strength. He glanced down and lunged forward, crashing the burly man into the railing. The old building's railing, already rotten, broke under the impact. The man fell from the fourth floor, and Liu Handong followed, landing heavily on the concrete below. The human cushion softened the fall, but Liu Handong still saw stars and heard a ringing in his ears. Looking up, he saw the gang members running down the stairs, one of them pulling out a gun.

Two shots rang out. The first bullet hit the concrete, sending up a spray of debris. The second bullet hit Liu Handong in the back, feeling like a burn, but not very painful.

The burly man lay motionless, bleeding from his nose and mouth. Liu Handong got up and ran. As he reached the front of the building, he saw two police cars speeding towards him. He quickly turned and ran, using his familiarity with the area to escape into a market selling chickens, ducks, and vegetables, losing his pursuers.

The bullet in his back now began to hurt. Liu Handong took a piece of clothing from a clothesline and put it on, moving through the crowd. The courage he had felt when jumping from the fourth floor had faded, replaced by deep fear and confusion. He could understand why the kidnappers wanted to kill him, but their relentless pursuit today was hard to comprehend.

A little girl passed by, and Liu Handong suddenly realized that the kidnappers must have thought he had hidden the hostage. They weren't there to kill him but to find the girl.

Caught in a sudden and unexpected case, Liu Handong felt his luck had run out. He couldn't rely on anyone else; he had to save himself.

He walked to a small shop selling cigarettes and alcohol, saw a public phone, and thought about calling his mother. After a moment's hesitation, he made the call, but it was answered by his stepfather, and he hung up immediately.

He dropped a one-yuan coin and took a Huaijiang Morning News, flipping to the crime section on page 8. The ongoing series about the black car driver's murder case was still there, but there was no mention of last night's incident.

The crime section reporter usually had nothing better to do, reporting even minor neighborhood disputes. The fact that last night's major case wasn't reported suggested two possibilities: either the police were still investigating and didn't want to create a panic, or someone was covering up the case, just like the two kidnappers who had disappeared. The situation was more complex than he had imagined.

The bullet in his back was causing pain. Liu Handong touched it and found it was just under the skin, not deeply embedded. The 6