The wind in northern Weibei was like a knife tempered in ice.
On the ninth day of the eleventh lunar month in 1998, the lights at Old Ninth’s shop at the village entrance went dark. They never came on again.
A family of three lay in a pool of blood. The killer left behind not a single fingerprint.
Three days, three towns, thirteen lives.
All of Weibei trembled. Who were they? Who would be next?
Veteran detective Zhou Zhenshan stared at the straight line of blood marked on the map and said through the cigarette clenched between his teeth:
“They won’t stop.”
No one believed that a scrap of paper, trampled and wedged into a crack beneath a doorstep, would become the only clue in a thousand-mile manhunt.
No one imagined that when the short, demonic killer was caught, he would smile and say something that sent chills down their spines:
“If I don’t kill the child, he’ll remember me.”
A shocking case sealed away for twenty years,
a light held fast in the darkness.
Don’t be afraid of the dark. Someone is carrying a light for you.
