Yueyue's Unsolved Case

The heavy rain washed away the roadbed on the back mountain, and also washed away a body entangled in vines. Zhang Yue stood outside the cordon and watched the forensic doctor in a white coat bend down and lift up the deceased's cuffs - a crescent-shaped scar was revealed there, which was almost identical to the old wound on her left wrist three years ago. Some people in the crowd were crying, and some were whispering that this was the third time in three months. He silently held the rusty brass key in his pocket, and ran his fingertips over the uneven notches on it, as if caressing some forbidden secret. The wind whipped up the rain and hit my face, which was bitingly cold. She suddenly remembered the vague dream she had last night: she was standing on the edge of a cliff, holding something warm in her hand, with footsteps approaching behind her, and beneath her feet was the red soil soaked in blood. When the police began to investigate everyone who had interacted with the deceased, Zhang Yue knew that some things could no longer be hidden. But when she looked at her calm face in the mirror, she suddenly couldn't tell whether the images flashing back in the dark were memories or another person's lies?