The rain was hitting the windshield, and the wipers were swinging wildly, unable to wipe it clean no matter how hard they were wiped.
The high beam lights were like two knives stabbing into my eyes. The screeching sound of tires. The feeling of weightlessness as the whole person is flying. When he landed, the back of his head hit the curb, and warm liquid flowed down his neck and into his collar.
Pain. Cold. Vision blurred into a ball.
The last scene in the field of vision was two people getting out of the car. Qin Ran was wearing a white skirt, and Lu Jingchuan was holding a black umbrella. His hands were on top of her head, with clear knuckles.
They didn't look at me. They are watching the rain.
Then the world went dark.
