Chapter 1 One Sand 01 Wedges

A world of sand.

Chunshui Street is an old street in the southwest of Hongjing.

Not unlike many of the city's busy streets, shops are densely packed and run from one end of the long street to the other.

As the evening approached, the street gradually became lively.

In the aquatic product store facing the street, a crucian carp thumped in a plastic basin and was about to swim away, but was caught by its belly and picked up.

Wang Chunhua is almost 60 years old this year, and her life is no different from that of a middle-aged woman in her 60s in this city. She just had her hair permed at the barber shop next door, and now she is going to buy a crucian carp on the way to go home for her little one. Grandson stewed fish soup to drink.

"Ten dollars and ten dollars, the fraction of fifty cents is fine!" She took out a worn ten-dollar note from her wallet, forced it into the shopkeeper's hand, and was proud of the fraction that she just erased, and then Smoothly brushed hair.

The air was filled with the rustling of the radio, as if something was being said on the radio.

The fish shop owner shook his head helplessly, stuffed the banknotes into his leather apron pocket, and turned up the radio volume with wet fingers.

"Now there is an urgent news." The female announcer paused and restrained her soft voice, "Super Typhoon Yunna will hit our city head-on on the night of the 12th. Minimize going out."

Wang Chunhua took the fish, and when she heard the news, she suddenly looked up at the sky.

To prove something, the dark clouds covered the sunset, and the sky darkened quickly.

Crucian carp in a black plastic bag pulsates gently.

The fruit stall owner at No. 18 Chunshui Street also raised his head and looked at the gray sky.

As if feeling the moist rain in the air or some other reason, he suddenly picked up a half-frame of rotten fruit that he had picked out, and slammed it into the most expensive snake fruit.

The rotten fruit fell like a torrential rain, a few splashed and rolled farther and farther along the iron-grey sidewalk...

There was a crisp sound, and a pair of thick-soled leather shoes stepped on it without hesitation, and the pulp burst and the juice flowed.

"Oh, do you have any quality?" Wang Chunhua raised her foot, looked at the rotten fruit on the ground, and kicked in disgust, "I almost slipped!"

The stall owner didn't say a word, just carried all the apples he had picked up with his head back into the store.

Without even apologizing, Wang Chunhua suddenly got a little angry. Just as she was walking away, she suddenly caught a glimpse of the fruit stall owner who was frantically stuffing all the rotten fruit into high-end apples, thinking of those shoddy news, her Not even a single place to get angry.

"You have to sell rotten apples together with good apples. Your brain is broken!" She ran to the fruit stand and poked an apple in her throat.

The stall owner didn't speak, just blushed and stared at her with bloodshot eyes.

Wang Chunhua cleared her throat and was about to sneer again when the wind picked up in an instant.

The wind was light, like a girl's hair, and the wind was soft, like a mother's lips.

The gentle wind blew through her broken hair, brushed her arm, and landed on her fingers, and then she felt as if something fell from her hand.

She lowered her head subconsciously, but found an extra finger on the ground.

Where did the fingers come from?

The severe pain came later, and she turned her gaze to her right hand, where a huge and ugly gap appeared.

She wanted to call for help, but found that she couldn't say anything. The stall owner grabbed her throat like five-fingered iron pliers, and a long and narrow watermelon knife pressed against her mouth.

The fear was far more frightening than the physical pain, and the stall owner swung the handle of his knife and slashed at her. In an instant, her skin cracked, blood engulfed all her sight, and there was only a dehumanizing gasp in her ears.

The desire to survive stimulates the greatest potential of human beings. Wang Chunhua pushed the fruit stall owner away, rolling and crawling, trying to escape into the next store.

There was an old man sitting in the shop. Wang Chunhua could barely see anything, but felt that the surroundings were eerily peaceful. She arched her upper body and wanted to climb into the threshold. Just as she was about to touch the old man's trousers, she was once again attacked. kicked down...

The severe pain did not come as expected, and after a while, she had the courage to turn back.

Behind her, several men were trying to suppress the fruit stall owner who was madly cutting people. The onlookers had expressions of panic and anxiety on their faces, and small words spread, mostly "how could this happen?", "usually people are very good." ah", "I don't see a mental illness" and so on.

Wang Chunhua opened her mouth and wanted to speak, but found that she was almost speechless.

Her face and hands were covered with warm blood. She propped her elbows on the ground and tried to stand up, but before she could stand firm, her knees throbbed violently, and she stumbled again, hitting the armchair. on the old man.

With a bang, the old man fell without warning.

Wang Chunhua was taken aback, she braced her body, moved back twice, and then reached out to wipe the blood in front of her eyes.

The old man still maintained his fallen posture, his gray hair was neat and tidy, and he was wearing a clean old navy blue uniform, like a strange and serene sculpture.

Wang Chunhua held her breath and leaned forward again. She cautiously pushed the old man with her missing index finger. The old man fell over and lay flat on the ground. Thousands of tiny white aphids swarmed out.

The setting sun followed the edge of the window, cutting the wrinkled face of the old man, making the deadness on his face even more strange. The shadows painted the upper half of his face inky, and the setting sun softened the lower half of his face, and there seemed to be a smile on the corner of the old man's mouth.

Chunshui Street was eerily quiet. Only on the radio, the voice of the female announcer was still slowly coming out: "The police recently said that citizens are requested to pay attention to travel safety and be more vigilant..."

A magnetic voice swirls over the entire block.

When everyone's eyes were fixed on the old man, no one noticed that a man wearing a peaked cap lowered the brim of his hat and walked out of the long street where the murder had just happened against the flow of people.