Time is like a blunt-toothed knife, repeatedly scraping at the softest part of Jian Ming’s heart, polishing the remnants of memory into sharp, bloody edges. No matter how many years have passed or how far he’s gone, some memories seem to have a soul of their own—clinging to him when his defenses are at their weakest, never letting go.

From a young age, he noticed the adults around him always looking at his family with a touch of envy. As a child, he didn’t understand it. He only knew his parents were important researchers in a state-run institute, and because of their work, they often left home mysteriously and were gone for days at a time.

But despite their long absences, he never felt unloved or neglected. His parents were always warm and patient. His mother had soft hands and a softer voice; she would tuck him and his sister in at night, leaving a kiss on their foreheads. His father, though stern in appearance, would teach them math puzzles and stories from his youth, rewarding them with candy whenever they solved a problem correctly.

And then there was his little sister—bright, bubbly, always clinging to his legs like a koala. Every morning she would grab his hand with her chubby little fingers and announce, “Gege, I’ll protect you today!” He’d laugh and ruffle her hair, telling her it was his job to protect her.

However… that cheerful little sister, the one who laughed all the time, would never laugh again.

Three years can be enough to get used to many things.

Three years can also change a lot of things.

But for Lu Heng, three years meant nothing.

Nothing but a pile of shit.

In the endless swamp of chaos, a ball of light slowly approached Lu Heng. He struggled to open his eyes and see clearly, but everything remained a blur. The light felt warm… comforting. He rubbed his eyes, and the figure grew clearer. “Mom!” he called out, his voice turning childlike, like he had gone back to being five or six years old. He ran toward her, shouting, but no matter how hard he tried, he stayed rooted in place.

Suddenly, everything went dark.

When light returned, his mother was being tied down in the mud by several terrifying figures. She struggled in agony, screaming toward him, “Xiao Heng! Save me! Save Mommy…”

Why couldn’t he move? Why?

Little Lu Heng burst into tears, sobbing louder and louder until everything blurred into a sea of blood-red…

“Mom—!” Lu Heng jolted awake with a scream, rolling off the bed and curling into a trembling ball on the floor. His limbs refused to obey, his body quaking uncontrollably. He clutched his head with both hands, letting out stifled sobs from deep in his throat.

He had lost count of how many times this had happened. Every time the dream came, it was as terrifying as the first.

With shaking hands, he pulled open the bedside drawer, groping for a yellow pill bottle. He fumbled with it for a while before realizing—it was empty.

“Fuck… fuck…” Lu Heng cursed, throwing the bottle against the wall. His brows furrowed in pain as he lay sprawled on the floor.

The shaking lasted longer than usual this time. He knew it was time to go see Lao Jiang.