Warm Water

In the twenty-third year of the Republic of China, Shanghai. She is a newspaper reporter and an avenger in the dark night. He is the inspector of the patrol house and the last night watchman of the old order. A series of bizarre murders brought two people's worlds together. He used to pour her a glass of warm water. She didn't drink, and she didn't say no. She has a faint scent of bitter orange blossom. There are always dried petals at crime scenes. He knows. She didn't say. He doesn't ask. The country is in turmoil, and the world is in chaos. He is pursuing the truth, she is lynching. Standing by the same river, guarding their respective beliefs. He still carried the evidence for her. She still held his hand when he was unconscious. Some things are heavier than faith, lighter than life, and more difficult to let go than that glass of warm water.