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墨書 Inktalez
The rain began to fall, the winter rain in Beihai cold and biting.
The thugs had finally had their fill of fun. Before leaving, the leader drew a line across my forehead with a key, blood mingling with the rainwater that streamed into my eyes.
"Remember, this is my territory. Don't let me see you again tomorrow!" They tossed this warning before disappearing into the rainy night.
I lay on the ground, too weak to get up. The rain washed over my body and my wounds, but it couldn't cleanse the filth and despair within me. I closed my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by a desire for death. In that moment, death seemed like the only escape.
Eventually, I struggled to rise. The rain fell harder, and I dragged my battered body aimlessly down the street.
Suddenly, a light caught my attention—the Beihai Construction Police Station. Twenty days of fleeing had taught me that some things were scarier than prison—that was the constant fear and loneliness of running away, not knowing when it would end.
"Go in, Li Fuming," I told myself. "At least inside, you won't have to hide anymore, you won't have to worry about starving, and you won't have to endure all of this alone."
I took a step forward, then another. With each step, the burden in my heart lightened a little more.
The face of Ms. Zhang appeared in my mind—not her bloodied visage but her living self. I even remembered her gentle moments, like the time I had a fever and she brought me a cup of hot water.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Zhang," I murmured to myself. "I made an unforgivable mistake, and now I must pay for it."
Reaching the entrance of the police station, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The officer on duty looked up at me, his eyes flashing with caution.
"Do you need something?" he asked, sizing up my disheveled appearance.
My throat tightened; I could barely speak.
"I... I want to turn myself in," I finally managed to say, my voice hoarse and trembling.
"Turn yourself in?" The officer clearly hesitated for a moment. "What have you done?"
"I... I've killed someone."
As soon as the words left my mouth, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief, as if the heavy stone pressing on my heart had finally been lifted.
The police officer's expression turned serious in an instant. He gestured for me to sit down and then called in a colleague.
"Who did you kill? Where? When?" A barrage of questions came my way.
"In Jinan, on Cultural West Road, a month ago, I killed my employer, Ms. Zhang," I replied calmly, as if recounting someone else's story.
One officer quickly made a phone call to report, while another poured me a cup of hot water and brought a dry towel for me to wipe off the rainwater from my clothes.
"Why did you turn yourself in?" an older officer asked me.
I looked down at the cup of hot water in my hands; the steam blurred my vision and mingled with my tears.
"Because... death is easier to accept than living on the run."
That night, they arranged a simple bed for me—my first time sleeping in a bed in twenty days. Though it was just a makeshift bed in the interrogation room, it felt like paradise compared to park benches and concrete floors.
Tomorrow, I would be escorted back to Jinan to face legal judgment. But at least I no longer had to run. The nightmare of being hunted was finally over.
"Li Fuming, this is all your own doing," I told myself before sinking into the first peaceful sleep I had experienced in twenty days.
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