Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Gu Yanzhi's eyes widened, his pupils dilated little by little, his body slammed heavily to the ground, twitched twice, and then remained completely still.

Shen Qinghou stood before the corpse, letting out a low, guttural roar that echoed through the alley, causing plaster to crumble and fall from the walls.

"Clang—"

The string snapped, and the wire lashed his finger, cutting a deep gash that exposed bone; blood dripped down his finger.

He threw the guqin on the ground, pounced on Gu Yanzhi, straddled him, and slammed his fists down hard, hitting the face that was already so badly rotten that it was unrecognizable, hitting the chest, and hitting the festering wounds.

Every punch was accompanied by a roar, a sob, the humiliation of eighteen years of learning the piano, the stolen championship, the excruciating pain of a torn tendon, and the hatred of his mother's tragic death.

Gu Yanzhi had stopped moving, but Shen Qinghou was still smashing, until his fist smashed into a pile of rotten flesh, his knuckles digging into his broken ribs, causing him to gasp in pain, before he finally stopped.

He was panting heavily, blood dripping from his face, staining Gu Yanzhi's unrecognizable face, mixing with his blood so that it was impossible to tell whose it was.

He raised his head and roared at the sky at the alley entrance, his voice so heart-wrenching that it made all the windows in the alley vibrate.

"Mom—I've avenged you!!!"

The two security guards rushed into the alley while holding onto the wall, and just then they witnessed this scene.

The elderly security guard stepped into the pool of blood, slipped, and grabbed the wall for support. Looking at the unrecognizable mass of flesh and blood on the ground, his stomach churned, and he began to dry heave against the wall.

The young security guard, his eyes bloodshot, grabbed his baton and charged forward, his roar shaking the alley: "You beast! Are you even human?!"

The police baton came crashing down with a gust of wind. Shen Qinghou raised his hand to block it, and the excruciating pain of his bones cracking shot through his body. He howled and grabbed a broken string from the ground with his other hand, throwing it at the security guard's face.

The steel wire ripped through the air, leaving a deep gash on the security guard's cheek. Drops of blood flew out and splattered onto the wall beside him.

"Ah!!!" The young security guard covered his face and backed away, blood gushing from between his fingers, and he stomped his feet in pain.

Shen Qinghou got up from the ground, pressed his fingers on the last remaining string of the zither, and plucked it sharply.

hum-

The sound wave blasted into the ground in front of the two security guards, instantly creating a shallow crater in the concrete. Debris flew up and hit their legs, causing them to gasp in pain.

The two men froze, their hands trembling as they gripped their batons. Looking into Shen Qinghou's bloodshot eyes, they instinctively took a step back.

"Get out." Shen Qinghou's voice was like a broken gong, blood dripping down his chin. "Don't force me to kill you."

The young security guard tried to rush forward, but the older guard held him back tightly.

The old security guard's face was deathly pale. He looked at Gu Yanzhi's corpse on the ground, then at Shen Qinghou's blood-stained fingers, his voice trembling: "Don't go... he really will kill you... we are no match for him..."

The two slowly backed away, their eyes fixed on Shen Qinghou's movements, afraid that he would suddenly pluck the strings.

Shen Qinghou bent down to pick up the broken pieces of the guqin from the ground and dragged them deeper into the alley.

The instrument left a long trail of blood on the ground, and the broken strings scraped against the ground with a piercing sound, like the wailing of ghosts.

His figure disappeared into the shadows deep in the alley, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter until they vanished completely.

Two security guards slumped on the edge of the pool of blood, panting heavily. Their uniforms were soaked with cold sweat and felt chillingly cold.

The young security guard covered his face, blood still seeping from between his fingers. He slammed his fist on the ground, his voice trembling with a sob, and roared, "He beat someone to death right in front of us!!! We just stood by and watched?!"

The old security guard looked into the darkness deep in the alley, then at the pool of blood and flesh on the ground. He swallowed hard but said nothing.

The wind blew in from the alleyway, carrying a strong smell of blood. It rustled the leaves on the ground, and after a few flutters, a leaf fell onto Gu Yanzhi's corpse. Dark red blood stained the leaves, like a death knell.

The walkie-talkie rolled off the young security guard's body. He lunged forward, grabbed it, and his voice was a mixture of anger, anxiety, and humiliation: "Command center! Zhongshan Road alley entrance! Requesting emergency support! There's a violent attack; multiple people are dead! The suspect is fleeing towards the old city area!"

The crackling sound of electricity whirred in his ears, and when the reply came crashing down, his back was already soaked with cold sweat: "Backup has been dispatched; three patrol cars will arrive in five minutes. Avoid direct confrontation and be careful."

He hung up the walkie-talkie and turned to look into the alley.

Old Zhang, the old security guard, squatted beside the pile of mangled flesh that was unrecognizable as human, his fingers probing Gu Yanzhi's carotid artery, the flashlight beam making his face turn blue.

When Old Zhang stood up, his brows were furrowed into a tight knot.

He touched the baton at his waist and then pressed the handcuffs clipped to his back.

"You wait here for reinforcements and guard the alley entrance to prevent anyone from getting in. I'll follow the trail ahead."

The young security guard grabbed his sleeve, his fingernails digging into the blue fabric of his uniform, blood smearing his hand: "Old Zhang, it's too dangerous for you to go alone. That madman couldn't even stop the two of us."

Old Zhang slapped his hand away, the flashlight beam blindingly bright as it swept across the drag marks on the ground: "I won't get close, I'll only confirm the direction of the escape."

He clutched his flashlight and walked deeper into the alley, his shoes crunching stickily over broken glass and bloodstains.

The flashlight beam shone across the wall, and the bloodstains splattered on the bricks looked like countless eyes staring at his back.

When he reached the middle of the alley, he stopped, looked around to make sure there was no movement, took out his phone and found a number in his contacts—the note had only three words: Chairman Gu.

The phone rang three times before being answered. Gu Mingyuan's voice was deep and steady, like a stone immersed in ice: "What is it?"

Old Zhang lowered his voice, his throat tightening: "Chairman Gu, something's happened. Your son, Gu Yanzhi, is dead."

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone for three seconds.

Gu Mingyuan's voice suddenly burst out, like a wild beast being choked: "What did you say?"

Old Zhang quickly recounted what had happened: Shen Qinghou killed four bodyguards, tortured them beyond recognition in the teaching building, chased them for three streets, and in an alley, shattered Gu Yanzhi's limbs and smashed his face.

"That kid has become a monster now. He can kill people with his music. The two of us can't stop him at all."

Gu Mingyuan's breathing came through the receiver, sounding as rough as a bellows.

"Shen Qinghou? That good-for-nothing? His tendons are severed, how can he kill anyone? What are you police officers doing?"

Old Zhang didn't respond.

He had worked with Gu Mingyuan for decades, from helping Gu Yanzhi suppress the incident of pushing a classmate off a building when Gu Yanzhi was in elementary school, to helping erase his record of drunk driving and killing someone a few years ago, and then when Shen Qinghou appealed, he personally intercepted the materials that Shen Qinghou submitted to the Municipal Bureau and handed them over to Gu Mingyuan's secretary.