White gloves knocking on the door of the gendarmerie. Dark gray suit, Windsor knot, gold-rimmed glasses. Her smile was as gentle as jade, as if she were attending a banquet. The knuckles are long and the joints are clear. The rhythm of knocking on the door is three times, not urgent nor slow, like telling the time. The door opened. "Thank you for your hard work." He continued to adjust the collar of the military policeman. The other hand has already gone in, and the scalpel avoids the ribs and goes straight into the pericardium, which is more meticulous than a tailor's measurement. The military policeman's smile was still there, but his eyes were empty at first. The wine glass fell to the floor, and the wine and blood formed a shallow stream along the table legs, flowing over the toes of his leather shoes. The leather shoes did not move. The second man drew his gun. He sidled, and the gunshot shattered the overhead light. Broken glass fell, and a piece stuck to the side of his cheekbone, but he ignored it. Holding the barrel of the gun with his left hand, his palm pressed against the hot metal, and his right hand brushed across the opponent's wrist. The sound of tendons snapping was like cutting a taut thread. The man's finger still maintained the shape of pulling the trigger, but it no longer belonged to him. White gloves took the sake bottle on the table. Align the mouth of the bottle with the knife edge and fill slowly. No rush. The sound the gendarme made behind his scarf was no longer a scream. Xie Cihan lowered his head slightly and listened, as if listening to someone talking about their thoughts. Then he said all the names. Xie Cihan nodded. The knife was sent into the ventricle of the heart, closing his eyes like a door for a guest. The book on the table is half-written and the ink is still wet. The playing cards were smeared in a pool of blood, and the King of Hearts had a drop on his face. A third gunshot sounded from the distant room. Then silence. He walked out the door and flicked his cuffs. The street lights at the alley had just been changed and turned on six minutes ago. He glanced up. He remembered the names of seven people. Six minutes, recorded seven times. The moonlight fell on the side of the face, where the browbones were high and the jawline was as sharp as a knife. The Adam's apple was untouched and there was no blood on the white gloves.
