Not Just a Wrongful Killing

About This Novel

Luo Wu stood like a wooden stake for who knows how long. If people really have seven emotions and six desires, then at this moment they were twisted into a knot and wrapped tightly around his neck. Zhang Xiaohong, his ex-wife, was dead and lying at his feet, with a fruit knife stuck in his back. Blood had soaked through his clothes and was dripping onto the floor. Am I the murderer? Luo Wu kept thinking about this sentence in his head, over and over again, unable to stop it. So why should I do this? He slapped his forehead hard several times, and the shock slowly made him regain consciousness.

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