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In 1995, the summer nights in Caofeidian, Tangshan, were so hot and humid that they were suffocating.

The corrugated iron roof of the abandoned factory creaked in the wind, like the panting of some giant beast.

The nine-year-old boy's wrists ached from the rough hemp rope, and sweat trickled down his forehead, leaving white streaks on his dirty little face.

Beside him was an eleven-year-old girl being hung, struggling desperately to protect the boy, but neither the rope nor the robbers would give her that chance.

"Uncle Xu, my dad will give you money, please don't hurt us." The little girl's voice trembled, but she tried her best to remain calm.

Xu Zhenhong scratched his greasy hair in frustration, his face twitching: "Damn it! Do I need your dad's money?"

He kicked an empty wine bottle on the ground, and shards of glass splashed around the little boy's feet.

Xu Zhenhong is actually quite conflicted right now, because he and two henchmen kidnapped two children, one eleven years old and the other only nine years old.

At this moment, two henchmen were squatting in the corner smoking, their cigarette butts flickering in the dim factory.

The little boy on the ground suddenly felt extremely thirsty, as if his throat was on fire.

He looked up blankly at his surroundings and saw that the rope on the little girl's wrists had been worn raw and bloody. A strange heat surged up from his chest.

"Eight ounces, don't be afraid." The little girl turned to him and forced a smile, but suddenly froze. "Your eyes..."

The little boy felt as if the world had suddenly turned blood red.

A sharp buzzing sound rang in my ears, as if countless voices were screaming in my head.

With a gentle struggle, the thick hemp rope snapped like a noodle.

"Damn! That kid..." A henchman had just stood up when his voice abruptly stopped.

Because the little boy's figure moved like a ghost, as if driven by a bodily instinct.

The little boy didn't know what was happening to him either.

When he came to his senses, he was already holding a rusty steel bar in his hand, with a sticky liquid dripping from the tip.

The two henchmen lay on the ground, their necks twisted at an abnormal angle.

Xu Zhenhong staggered back, his face deathly pale, knocking over the toolbox behind him: "How...how did you do that?"

The little boy didn't say anything.

He felt something awaken inside his body; it was cold and excited.

"What...what are you going to do?" Xu Zhenhong couldn't help but feel fear at this moment.

"..." The little boy walked towards Xu Zhenhong without saying a word, his bewitching red eyes fixed on Xu Zhenhong.

With a "plop," the little boy easily pierced Xu Zhenhong's heart with a steel bar.

Xu Zhenhong stared wide-eyed at everything in disbelief, muttering to himself in his dying moments, "I've already called the police for you..."

Immediately afterward, as the steel bar in his hand pierced Xu Zhenhong's chest, he heard the crisp sound of bones breaking, and warm blood sprayed all over his face.

"I've already called the police for you..." The boy could still hear the surprised voice of the other person.

Xu Zhenhong knelt on the ground, his eyes still filled with disbelief.

As the bloodstains faded, the little boy suddenly saw the scene before him clearly.

Three corpses, blood everywhere, and the same terrified look in the little girl's eyes.

He looked down at his little hands, stained red, and felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

With a clang, the steel bar fell to the ground. The red in the little boy's eyes slowly disappeared, and he was completely terrified as he looked at what was happening in front of him.

"Blood...how can there be so much blood?"

"Did I kill someone?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible.

"Eight ounces? Eight ounces?" the little girl kept calling out to the little boy.

"I killed someone? I killed someone?" But the little boy was stunned with fear.

"Eight ounces! It's not your fault, they're bad people..."

But the little boy wouldn't listen anymore.

Fear overwhelmed him like a tidal wave; he turned and rushed toward the factory's back door, disappearing into the inky darkness of the night.

"Eight taels... eight taels..."

The little boy ran away in terror into the depths of the forest, completely ignoring the little girl's loud calls.

The little boy ran in the dark for an unknown amount of time, but accidentally fell into a reservoir.

The little boy realized he had fallen into the reservoir when the icy water filled his nostrils.

He struggled desperately, but the heavy cotton clothes, soaked with water, dragged him down like lead.

In the darkness, he saw a sliver of moonlight shimmering on the water's surface, growing ever more distant.

"Am I going to die...?" The thought was surprisingly calm.

The bloody memories and the scene before him began to overlap, and he could no longer distinguish between reality and illusion.

When he opened his eyes again, the glaring incandescent light made him instinctively raise his hand to shield his eyes.

My wrist was wrapped in bandages, and the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils.

"Awake?" A hoarse male voice came from the side.

The little boy turned his head and saw a middle-aged man in an old police uniform sitting on the edge of a metal bunk bed, smoking.

The man had a hideous scar on his arm that looked like a centipede in the dim light.

"Where am I?" the little boy asked, his throat parched.

"Reservoir Police Station." The man exhaled a smoke ring. "You're lucky, kid. If I hadn't been on patrol in the middle of the night, you'd be inside a fish's belly by now."

The little boy tried to sit up, and suddenly a sharp pain shot through his temple.

Countless fragmented images flashed through my mind—bloodshot eyes, twisted corpses, a little girl's cries…

But all of this is like looking through frosted glass, blurry and indistinct.

Moreover, he only has these memories in his mind; he has no other memories at all.

When he blurted out the question, "Who am I?" he was stunned.

The man narrowed his eyes: "Kid, pretending to have amnesia with me?"

"I really don't remember..." The little boy clutched his head, overwhelmed by fear. "I can't remember anything!"

The man stubbed out his cigarette, then suddenly grabbed the little boy by the collar: "You brat, don't try anything funny with me! You think I won't beat you to death?"

"Who am I? Who am I? Why don't I remember anything?" The little boy was truly terrified.

The man stared at him for a long time, then suddenly let go, revealing a strange smile: "Looks like you really have amnesia."

He touched the scar on his chin. "Well, at least God has eyes."

Coincidentally, the middle-aged man knew the little boy, but he was an enemy of the little boy's biological father. He was also punished to guard the pond because of the little boy's father, Zhao Sanjin.

Then the middle-aged man had a sudden inspiration and guessed that the little boy must have accidentally drowned and damaged his head. Then he came up with a wicked idea.

Then he leaned down, the wrinkles on his face looking particularly horrifying under the light: "Listen up, kid. Your name is Su Ning, and I'm your father, Su Daqiang. You hit your head while swimming and forgot everything from before."

“Su…Ning?” The little boy, who should now be called Su Ning, repeated blankly.

A faint voice inside him protested, but he could never quite grasp that thought.

Su Daqiang took out a faded photo frame from the drawer. Inside was a group photo that had been soaked in water: "Look, this was taken on your eighth birthday."

There is indeed a boy standing next to Su Daqiang in the photo, but his face is blurred.

Suning stared at the photo, his headache getting worse.

"Dad..." The word slipped awkwardly from his lips, "Why am I in the reservoir?"

Su Daqiang's eyes gleamed: "Hmph! I got a leg cramp while fishing."

He suddenly switched to a stern tone, "Starting tomorrow, I'll teach you combat and Sanda. Since you're mentally impaired, at least improve your skills."

Outside the window, thunder rumbled faintly.

Unbeknownst to Su Ning, this rain would wash away all traces of his past.

Meanwhile, in Tangshan city, a large group of people were frantically searching for Suning's photos at hospital after hospital.

……

In the autumn of 1995, at Caofeidian Reservoir on the outskirts of Tangshan.

Nine-year-old Su Ning was practicing a horse stance, sweat dripping from his chin onto the scorching cement floor, instantly evaporating into white smoke.

His calves were shaking like leaves, but Su Daqiang's rattan cane immediately lashed out.

"Stand up straight! The horse stance is the foundation of combat!" Su Daqiang's roar echoed in the empty reservoir.

Suning gritted his teeth and adjusted his posture.

Three months after waking up in the reservoir, the man who claimed to be his father began rigorous training.

A five-kilometer morning run, five hundred push-ups, and two hours of horse stance are just appetizers.

Although Suning has indeed lost all its memories, it still retains the blood of that abandoned factory.

So even though Su Ning knew that Su Daqiang might be deceiving her, she still didn't dare to expose him.

"Dad, I'm hungry..." Su Ning couldn't help but whisper, her stomach rumbling at just the right moment.

Su Daqiang glanced at his watch; it was already three in the afternoon.

He pulled a cold steamed bun from his pocket and tossed it over: "Eat this and then practice your grappling skills."

While Suning wolfed down his food, Su Daqiang leaned against the wall smoking, his gaze shifting between light and shadow.

This kid is progressing at an alarming rate. He can master fighting skills that would take an average adult three months to learn in just one week.

What's even more terrifying is that Suning's strength is exceptionally great; he can easily punch through a brick wall.

Soon, Su Daqiang was surprised to find that he was gradually becoming no match for him.

Immediately afterwards, Su Daqiang felt jealous of Zhao Sanjin, wondering why he could have such a talented son.

In fact, Su Daqiang did have a son, but his ex-wife immigrated to Australia, all thanks to his enemy Zhao Sanjin.

"Dad, look! Isn't that an eagle?"

"Hmph! Focus on your training!"

In the dead of night, Su Daqiang, who suffers from insomnia, sits by the reservoir smoking.

“Zhao Sanjin…” Su Daqiang stroked the photo, his eyes sinister, “I want your son to treat you as an enemy, I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

In the next room, Suning was curled up in a ball, fast asleep.

He kept dreaming of a handsome man who told him his name was also Su Ning. However, every time Su Ning tried to figure out what was going on, the dream would shatter.

Spring 1996, Qinhuangdao First Hospital.

"The child does have brain damage; there are abnormal signals in the hippocampus area," the doctor said, pointing to the CT scan. "This explains why he can't remember things from before."

Su Daqiang feigned concern: "Can it be cured?"

"It's hard to say! His memory might return at any time, or it might be lost forever." The doctor adjusted his glasses. "But there's a strange phenomenon: his blood adrenaline level is three times that of a normal person, and his physical abilities are truly remarkable. How did you raise this child?"

"Huh? The kids in the village are tough."

"It's nothing serious! Don't worry, you'll probably recover someday."

"Thank you doctor."

"Yeah, stop looking around! It's useless! It's just a waste of money on tests, and it doesn't interfere with your normal life anyway."

"Thank you, doctor! We understand."

As he left the consultation room, Su Daqiang clutched the examination report tightly.

I feel both relieved and disappointed. I'm relieved that Suning really has amnesia, but disappointed that there's still a possibility that he can recover.

Then he turned and glanced at Su Ning, who was playing with a Rubik's Cube in the waiting area. The child's innocent eyes stung him slightly.

But his selfishness compelled him to do so, mainly because he felt too lonely, and revenge was merely an excuse.

"Dad, can I have ice cream?" Su Ning pointed to the hospital convenience store.

"No way," Su Daqiang refused out of habit, then changed his mind, "...you can only have one."

Watching Su Ning happily lick the ice cream in his hand, Su Daqiang suddenly remembered that he had never bought snacks for his own son.

I wonder how that child is doing in Australia. Is he calling a foreigner "Dad"?
"Officer Su?" A voice interrupted his thoughts.

At this moment, Su Daqiang couldn't help but tense up. It turned out to be Wang Yong, his old colleague from the Tangshan Public Security Bureau.

"Taking the child to see a doctor?" Wang Yong looked Su Ning up and down. "This child looks familiar..."

“My son, Su Ning.” Su Daqiang stood in front of Su Ning. “His mother divorced me and immigrated to Australia! That’s why she left her son with me.”

"Oh? Then why did you bring your child to Qinhuangdao for medical treatment?"

“His maternal grandmother is from Qinhuangdao! He came over as soon as he received a call from her.”

"So that's it."

"Su Ning, that's rude! Call him Uncle Wang right now."

Hello, Uncle Wang.

"Good! Suning is so good."

Once Wang Yong was out of sight, Su Daqiang immediately pulled Su Ning away from the hospital.

On the way back to Tangshan, he kept checking his rearview mirror to see if he was being followed.

Recently, the Zhao family has been searching everywhere like mad dogs, even posting missing person notices in remote towns.

"Dad, you're sweating." Su Ning handed him a tissue.

Su Daqiang then realized that the steering wheel was soaked with sweat.

He glanced at the bewildered child in the back seat, then suddenly jerked the steering wheel and turned the car around.

"Dad, are we not going back to Tangshan?"

"I need to take care of something first."

"Oh."

……

At the Caofeidian Reservoir police station, Su Daqiang is burning documents.

The firelight illuminated his ever-changing face.

Fifteen years of police career ruined by a moment of greed.

But now he has a better revenge plan: to raise his enemy's son to be his enemy's adversary.

"Dad, what's this?" Su Ning picked up a half-burnt photograph. It showed three young men in police uniforms.

Su Daqiang snatched it and threw it into the brazier: "A former colleague."

He paused for a moment, then said, "We're moving to Shanghai tomorrow."

"Shanghai?" Suning's eyes lit up. "That place with big ships on TV?"

"Hmm." Su Daqiang's tone was unusually gentle. "There are good schools there, and you can make friends."

That evening, Su Daqiang took Su Ning to downtown Tangshan.

They staked out Zhao Sanjin's villa until late at night, until they saw a girl in a school uniform being dragged into the house by bodyguards while crying.

"Dad, who is that?" Su Ning asked.

“A rich kid,” Su Daqiang sneered. “Remember! Rich people are all bad.”

Suning nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

He felt that the girl looked familiar, but the thought of her gave him a headache.

"I want to be rich in the future!"

"why?"

"Bad things are never bullied."

"Hmph! Truly born to father children."

"..."

The next morning, Su Daqiang went to the police station to submit his resignation.

"Old Su, are you really leaving?" the director asked, puzzled. "Although guarding the reservoir is a hardship for you, it's still a secure job."

“My son is going to Beijing for medical treatment.” Su Daqiang pointed to Su Ning outside the door. “It’s a brain problem; it’ll cost a lot of money.”

"Alright! Remember to ask us for help if you run into any trouble."

"Thank you, Director! I will do my best if needed."

As Su Ning walked out of the police station, the October wind tousled her hair.

He looked up and asked, "Dad, what illness do I have? Why do I keep having nightmares?"

Su Daqiang squatted down and, unusually, looked directly into the child's eyes: "You hurt your head when you were little. Remember, no matter who asks you, say your name is Su Ning, and that you are my son. Understand?"

Su Ning nodded, then suddenly reached out and touched the scar on Su Daqiang's hand: "Dad, how did this happen?"

"He was harmed by a bad guy." Su Daqiang's voice was hoarse. "When you grow up, Dad will tell you the whole story, and then you can avenge Dad."

"..."

Actually, the reason I brought Su Ning here to the vicinity of the Zhao family this time was to observe whether Su Ning had really lost her memory.

If Suning is just playing dumb with him, then he himself would be the biggest fool.

However, seeing that Su Ning didn't react at all when looking at his relatives, the suspicious Su Daqiang breathed a sigh of relief.

……

On the K371 train bound for Shanghai, Su Ning leaned against the window, looking at the scenery.

"Dad, the Yellow River!" he exclaimed excitedly, pointing out the window.

Su Daqiang was studying a map of Shanghai, not even looking up: "Hmm."

"Dad, look, there are cows over there!"

"Quiet down." Su Daqiang frowned, but after seeing the child's disappointed expression, he added, "...There will be more cows after Nanjing."

The elderly lady across from me asked with a smile, "Taking the kids on a trip?"

"Moving," Su Daqiang replied briefly, pulling Su Ning closer to him.

Where is the child's mother?

“He’s dead,” Su Daqiang said curtly.

This was a story he had prepared long ago: his wife died in childbirth, and he raised his son alone.

This is also why he moved Suning there; after all, nobody in Shanghai would recognize them.

The old woman sighed sympathetically and handed over an apple: "Poor thing! How old is the child?"

"I'm ten years old," Su Ning answered obediently, then looked at Su Daqiang with a puzzled expression, "Dad, what's my birthday?"

Su Daqiang was taken aback.

He randomly picked a date: "November 18th".

"Will I die on the same day as my mother?"

The carriage suddenly became quiet.

Su Daqiang felt a sudden pang of guilt and roughly dragged Su Ning to the connecting area between the carriages.

“Remember! Speak less when you’re out.” He lowered his voice. “There are a lot of bad people in Shanghai, especially those who traffic children.”

Su Ning stared wide-eyed in horror: "Like in the movies, chopping off hands and feet?"

“It’s even scarier than that.” Su Daqiang seized the opportunity to instill in you, “So you must listen to your father and learn kung fu to protect yourself.”

"Oh."

Back in her seat, Su Ning sat close to Su Daqiang, her little hand clutching the hem of his clothes.

Su Daqiang wanted to shake him off, but somehow he ended up touching the child's head.

It was late at night, and Su Ning was fast asleep with her head on Su Daqiang's lap.

The train swayed as it traversed the Jianghuai Plain, with occasional flashes of light outside the window like shooting stars.

Su Daqiang gently smoothed the child's furrowed brow and suddenly realized that he was doing what he had always dreamed of: playing the role of a father.

"Zhao Sanjin..." He silently recited his enemy's name in his heart, but for the first time, he didn't feel so much hatred.

The train's announcement system broadcasts: "Dear passengers, our next stop is Shanghai Station..."

……

(End of this chapter)