A Study of the Disciple's Letter in Scarlet

About This Novel

He moved his fingers, and his knuckles became increasingly pale under the moonlight. After this action that was like an illusion, he was still lying there, lifeless. There was a knife stuck in his back. The style of the knife could be seen everywhere in the market. The sharp blade, unimpeded by the leather coat, thrust into his back abruptly and coldly. The blood soaked through the clothes and condensed into thin and fragile ice. The scene is quiet. Maybe only a second passed, or maybe an hour. His head began to rotate against the ground, moving slowly, like the minute hand of a wall clock. But he still spared no effort, and it seemed that he also understood that these might be the last few actions in his life.

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