At 11:40 in the night, Li Yuantu was curled up on the broken sofa in the rental house, with the back of his neck pressed against the moldy wall.
The two words "pay back the money" written in blood on the wall have faded to dark brown, like a scabbed sore, glowing eerily under the cold white light of the mobile phone.
The phone screen turned on again, and a text message from the landlord popped up: "Ultimate notice, if you don't move at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I'll find someone to pry open the door." He rubbed his thumb across the cracks in the screen, and his fingertips got a little sticky on the wall - this shabby house had lost water and electricity three days ago, and he didn't even have water to wipe his face.
The drawer of the coffee table was pulled loudly, and only a crumpled bus card came out of the empty wallet. Three debt collection text messages slipped from the mezzanine. The numbers hurt his eyes: 270,000.
There is a yellowed photo at the bottom, which is a group photo taken at a high school basketball game. Seventeen-year-old Li Yuantu is wearing the No. 13 Jersey, holding the championship trophy, and the beads of sweat on his forehead are shining.
That was the last time he felt like a human being.
"Click——"
The sound of the door lock being opened by the iron rod was like a needle, making his temples jump.
Dao Scarqiang broke in with two thugs with yellow hair, and the smell of inferior hairspray mixed with tobacco and alcohol poured into his nose.
The scar on the left side of Dao Scarqiang's face from his brow bone to his chin was illuminated by the gas lamp, like a poisonous snake spitting out letters: "Li Yuantu, I've been waiting for you for three days."
