Chapter 2: At This Moment

The summer night breeze carried an annoying heat, seeping through the nose and mouth into the chest, making one feel oppressed from the skin to the bone. Wen Liang, leaning against the wall, slowly walked out of the alley, looking at the broad road ahead, and let out a long breath.

Although the places where he had been beaten still hurt, it was within tolerable limits. At this moment, Wen Liang was naturally much tougher than a 16-year-old boy. He pressed his thumb, index finger, and middle finger in a fan shape on the wound, applying pressure in a clockwise and counterclockwise direction, alternating between light and moderate force. In no time, the pain lessened.

This method was taught to him by a middle-aged teacher he met at a martial arts school in Beijing after graduating from university. It was highly effective for reducing swelling and bruising. Later, Wen Liang learned that this middle-aged man was a practitioner of internal martial arts but had to teach at a taekwondo school to make ends meet. Internal martial arts have strict learning conditions and take a long time to show results, requiring years of unwavering determination to achieve any success. Wen Liang studied with the teacher for over a year but only learned the basics, not much of the real skills. However, he became very proficient in some practical techniques.

Standing on the streets of Qingzhou in 1995, looking at everything around him, Wen Liang still found it hard to believe. The low-rise buildings, the dilapidated streets, and the white ceramic walls that still gleamed in the night, without the bright lights and bustling crowds of the future. The tall plane trees on both sides of the street murmured in the night breeze, and occasionally, a few bare-chested men drinking Qinggong beer and shouting loudly passed by. The young women standing by the street lamps, dressed in bright colors, burst into raucous laughter.

Qingzhou was still as beautiful as ever.

After silently identifying the direction, Wen Liang headed home. At this time, his father would be huddled on the sofa, studying the latest documents to understand the national policy trends. As the deputy director of the municipal policy research office, ranked last in the party group and often marginalized, his status at home was predictable. His mother would surely be watching TV while scolding him to visit his boss more often. Thinking of his parents, Wen Liang smiled slightly, and his limping steps became a bit lighter.

After turning a few alleys and passing through Dongjie Alley, he suddenly saw a black Santana parked by the roadside. A woman in a black suit was bent over the trunk, vomiting. Her long hair hung by her ears, and her well-tailored uniform accentuated her figure. Her long, white legs were tightly pressed together, making the prominent curve of her hips even more striking.

Wen Liang quietly whistled and walked past the woman. She had her head down, and he couldn't see her face, but she couldn't be more than 30 years old. At that moment, a young man walked out from another alley about ten meters ahead. He was about 1.7 meters tall, wearing military green shorts, flip-flops, and a white tank top slung over his shoulder. He had a cigarette in his mouth and a "Yimian" hairstyle, which was popular among young hooligans at the time. The 1995 film "Young and Dangerous" had caused a huge sensation after being widely screened in video halls across the mainland, and it was said that the gangs in Qingzhou even organized group viewings, greatly enhancing their cohesion and combat effectiveness.

Wen Liang didn't want to cause trouble; his current frail body couldn't handle it. This road was not a main street, and there were no pedestrians. He kept his head down, passed the young man, and put his right hand in his pocket, feeling the only 5 yuan he had, mentally preparing to be extorted.

Strangely, the young man walked past without even glancing at him. What surprised Wen Liang even more was that he felt the young man was trembling with tension.

Tension?

There was a popular saying in Qingzhou: "During the day, they act like decent people, but behind the scenes, they are thieves and prostitutes. The mayor is the king of Qingzhou, and the young hooligans are the cockroaches of the night." Given the perfect conditions just now, not taking advantage of the situation would be a disgrace to the hooligan profession.

Unable to resist his curiosity, Wen Liang turned his head. With his sharp eyes, he immediately noticed that the young man's walk was very stiff, even a bit awkward.

Hmm? Wen Liang walked a few more steps and his face suddenly changed. He finally remembered that it was on this night, in this place, that a notorious rape case occurred. The youngest deputy director of the Qingzhou Education Bureau, Zuo Yuxi, was raped by a young man on her way home from a reception banquet. A passerby discovered her and called the police, and the rapist was caught on the spot. Given Zuo Yuxi's background, the case could have been kept under wraps, but it became widely known because a photography enthusiast among the passersby took several photos, which later became key evidence for the police. The photos eventually leaked, and their clarity was surprisingly high...

The result was predictable. Qingzhou was soon filled with rumors and gossip, and various versions of the story spread through government offices and the streets. Zuo Yuxi first resigned from her administrative position, then left the education system, and ultimately could not withstand the pressure and took her own life. The rapist also committed suicide in custody.

In his previous life, Wen Liang, being young and naive, paid no attention to social news. He only remembered this incident because his father warned him not to go out at night the next day. After learning about the situation, he realized that on the same night, a few streets away, a woman had endured a more cruel humiliation than he had.

He had only lost a boy's self-respect, but that person had lost the right to live.

Wen Liang stopped, clenching his fists tightly. His 16-year-old, frail body felt no strength at all. Trying to stop a professional who had been on the streets was a futile dream.

Call the police?

There were no phones, no mobile phones, not even 201 prepaid cards in this era. Calling the police was a technical challenge. Wen Liang had lived in Qingzhou for twenty years and had never bothered the police, not even knowing where the nearest police station was.

Find someone?

The entire road, except for himself, the woman, and the young man, was empty, with only the stars overhead and his shadow under the street lamp. He wondered where the passersby mentioned in the newspapers were. If not for his dizziness from just being reborn and taking a wrong turn, he wouldn't have passed through Dongjie Alley.

A low, muffled cry came from behind him. Wen Liang turned around sharply and saw a pair of beautiful long legs kicking beside the car, the high heels leaving shallow marks on the ground, disappearing from his sight.

There, a narrow dead-end alley!

Wen Liang finally made up his mind. He looked around and saw a pile of construction waste not far ahead. He knew that in 1995, Qingzhou was in the early stages of urban renovation. Some construction companies, to save costs, secretly dumped waste in remote areas of the city at night. Residents often found piles of cement, brick fragments, and broken rebar in front of their homes or nearby, almost like the city's version of graffiti. The alley where Gu Wenyan and Mu Shanshan had beaten Wen Liang also had two such piles. Later, the municipal government ordered five departments to jointly address the issue, and it improved somewhat by 1996.

Now, this waste was like a weapon to Wen Liang. Without hesitation, he ran over, picked up two half-meter-long pieces of rebar, gripped them tightly, and turned back.

In this life, I lost my future, but you lost a brilliant life.

In this life, I have the right to write my future. Let me give you the glory you deserve!