Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

The car door opened, and Li Rui practically fell out of the passenger seat.

Liao Zhengfeng jumped out of the driver's seat and reached out to help him, but his hand landed on empty air.

Because Li Rui's gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, instantly locked onto the doorway of that abandoned house amidst the chaotic twilight and the flickering lights of the police lights.

There, beyond the threshold, a pale survey light illuminated a corner.

A woman's flat shoe lay forlornly on the dusty ground.

It was a light beige soft leather shoe, with the opening facing inwards, and there was a slight wear on the heel.

Those are Xiaoxiao's shoes.

The moment Li Rui saw that shoe, he felt a physical sensation of falling.

It didn't come from the outside, but from inside the skull, from the chest cavity.

That is the collapse of the body after the soul has been forcibly extracted, leaving it without support.

All sounds—Liao Zhengfeng's anxious whispers behind him, the lingering vibrations of the police car engine, the howling wind—were abruptly pulled away in that instant, turning into a meaningless buzzing.

The world faded to gray and white, leaving only that shoe magnified wildly in the center of my vision, so clear it was blinding.

Li Rui did not "leave".

His legs felt as if they no longer belonged to him.

That shoe was like a black hole, exerting an irresistible pull on him.

His body and his soul were roughly pulled and dragged by that force, staggering toward the doorway.

"Li Rui! Calm down!!"

Liao Zhengfeng roared from behind and rushed up, grabbing his shoulder.

But Li Rui suddenly swung his arm, and the explosive force was astonishing, causing Liao Zhengfeng to stumble.

He can't hear.

He can't hear anything.

All he could see was that door, that black hole that swallowed all light.

Li Rui stumbled and staggered across the threshold.

Liao Zhengfeng's eyes were filled with regret. In the end, he did not stop him. He just gritted his teeth and followed half a step behind him, ready to catch the man who was about to collapse at any time.

Inside the abandoned house, several high-powered survey lights illuminated the place as bright as day, but also made all the shadows appear even deeper and sharper.

At the boundary between light and shadow, more cruel details, like knives, dissected Li Rui's consciousness layer by layer.

The inside of the shoe by the door was covered with fresh mud and bits of grass, marks left from being forcibly dragged.

The gaze follows the direction in which it "detached," extending inward.

A beam of light slanted through the dusty air, illuminating the old workbench.

Several brightly colored scraps of paper were scattered on the ground below the worktable.

Li Rui's pupils contracted violently.

Those are fragments from the picture book "Fireman Sam".

The largest fragment depicts a firefighter who smiles even in the face of flames, spraying water with a water gun.

However, this image, representing "rescue" and "hope," is now soaked in a pool of deep red liquid and firmly stuck to the ground.

The deep red stain was like a mocking slap, landing hard on the face of the firefighter in the painting.

Shift your gaze a little to the side.

Under that rusty table lamp without a light bulb lay a few crushed biscuits.

Even with the powder mixed with dust, you can still make out the shapes of cute little animals.

That's...that's what he bought at the supermarket this evening.

No, that's not right. That's something Xiaoxiao always keeps in her bag. He personally put it in her backpack last night because he was worried that she might have low blood sugar from being tired during class.

Now, they have been ground into powder, just like life being crushed, and hope being crushed.

Finally, Li Rui's gaze settled on the center of the room.

That was the brightest spot, and the focal point of all eyes.

A light apricot-colored knitted cardigan lay there abandoned.

It was crumpled, roughly pulled and deformed, and several buttons fell off not far away.

It lay limply on the ground, its sleeves twisted, like a cicada shell that had been emptied of flesh and life and finally shed.

The light shines on the texture of the knit, making every single fiber clearly visible, and you can even imagine how soft and warm it would feel to wear.

Li Rui's gaze swept unfocusedly over the area near the neckline of the cardigan, where there was a buckle mark that had been violently torn and deformed.

Then, as if drawn by some unseen thread, his gaze shifted a few steps away, to the blurry area where the bright light of the survey lamps intertwined with the shadows on the ground.

there.

The flame-shaped ruby ​​brooch lay quietly on the dirty ground, at the edge of a small puddle of dark brown liquid.

The once warm and brilliant light of the ruby ​​has now been mostly swallowed up by the reflection of the turbid liquid and the dust covering it, making it appear dull and lifeless.

However, at the very moment the survey lamppost shifted slightly, the light swept past at a tricky angle.

A tiny facet of the gemstone, not completely covered by filth, suddenly reflected a faint, dark red light.

The light flashed briefly before disappearing into the surrounding darkness, as fast as a twitch of a dying nerve.

That was no longer a warm flame.

It was the last flickering ember in the ashes, faint yet persistently marking a certain coordinate—

The marks of beauty, preciousness, and vows are so carelessly stripped away, discarded, and defiled, and are about to be completely swallowed up by this boundless darkness and oblivion.

"Uh...ah..."

A broken hissed sound came from Li Rui's throat.

He could no longer hold on and collapsed heavily to his knees.

He reached out, his fingertips trembling violently, wanting to touch it.

Finally, he touched the brooch.

Icy.

The biting coldness exploded from my fingertips, instantly connecting me to memories.

In the morning light, the warmth of her fingertips and the warm glow of the brooch shimmering in the sunlight reflected in her smiling eyes.

"Burning through the darkness..."

Reality and memory clashed violently at this moment, completely crushing his reason into dust.

"No...no..."

Li Rui lunged forward, grabbing the empty cardigan and the brooch tightly in his hand and pressing it hard against his chest.

He buried his face deep in the fabric, gasping for breath in a spasm-like manner, trying to find even the slightest trace of Xiaoxiao's scent.

But no.

There was no familiar shampoo scent, no warm temperature.

There was only the strong smell of dust, the suffocating smell of rust, and a sweet, fishy... smell of death.

"Heh...heh..."

Li Rui's chest heaved violently, and a wheezing sound like a broken bellows came from his throat, a sign of being on the verge of collapse after being suppressed to the extreme.

Then, a heart-wrenching wail shattered all the strings.

"Xiaoxiao—!!!"

"It's me! It's me!! Xiaoxiao—!!!"

Li Rui pressed his forehead against the ground, pounding the earth with one fist, his skin and flesh tearing open, but he seemed to feel no pain.

His other hand was still clutching the brooch tightly, the sharp edge of the ruby ​​cutting deep into his palm, drawing blood.