9:03 In the morning.
Sunlight squeezed in through the gaps in the blinds, drawing neat strips of light on the dark wooden floor. Yan Changhui was sitting by the window in the clinic, holding a white porcelain teacup in one hand and flipping through the newspaper with the other.
Today's Dahongpao brewed well. The third brew, Yanyun was just right.
He took a sip, turned the newspaper to the social section, and stopped at a piece of news - "A new victim has been added to the serial disappearance case in Nancheng. The police are calling on citizens to go out less at night."
Yan Changhui raised his gold-rimmed glasses and read the news twice.
Nancheng, the old city, has a complex sewer system and underground pipe networks extending in all directions. Eleven people have disappeared in the past three months, all young people traveling alone at night. The police checked everything but found nothing.
Of course we can't find out. This matter is not the responsibility of the police.
He silently noted the news in his mind, folded the newspaper and put it aside.
The wind chime at the door jingled.
"Doctor Yan—good morning!"
