My older sister promised to get me out in three months at the absolute latest, but it’s already been over two, and there’s been no word. Just drifting around the hospital all day with nothing to do has become a dreadful ordeal.

These days, my routine has been nothing but eating and sleeping, occasionally broken up by a game or two of chess with Old Shao. Every time, he'd look at me with that distinct, scheming glint of a sly merchant, asking if I wanted to strike that deal with him. To be honest, I was quite curious about the story behind that stamp album, but since childhood, I’ve detested making deals with people, especially with someone as slippery as him. It’s an innate sense of self-preservation. Besides, my sister will be getting me out soon. My future life will likely be nothing more than "study hard and make progress every day." Knowing or not knowing about that secret will have absolutely no bearing on my future. Why stir up trouble just for a fleeting moment of curiosity? Old Shao isn't exactly a saint either; he’s having an affair behind his wife's back. His current predicament isn't exactly undeserved, truth be told.

So, the days ticked by, one after another, still with no news from my sister.

Finally, one afternoon, right in the middle of a chess game with Old Shao, a nurse came in to say someone was here to visit me.

Ah, I’d been waiting for stars and moon—my sister had finally arrived! I slipped my slippers on and practically sprinted after the nurse to the visiting room.

The nurse went in first, and I followed closely behind. I pushed the glass door open, looked up, and froze!

Four or five people were lined up in the visiting room; not a single one was my sister.

“Where’s my sister?” I looked at the nurse, confused.

One of them stood up. “Xiaoyu, you still recognize me, don't you?”

I squinted, and it was Officer He. Looking at the others beside him, one face looked very familiar. High nose bridge, pointed chin—I’d recognize those eyes even if they turned to ash. It was Li Xiaoshu!

The moment I saw him, my anger boiled over. I kicked off my slipper and hurled it toward him with force. He nimbly sidestepped, dodging it just as he had avoided the teapot that other day. I was certain the person who had hurt me so badly was standing right there.

They panicked immediately. Several people quickly formed a protective circle around Li Xiaoshu, anticipating any further attack from me. Soon, two male doctors burst in from outside, each grabbing an arm and pinning me down.

Then, a man who looked like a doctor spoke to Officer He: “The patient’s mental state is not stable today. He won't be able to provide any legally significant testimony for you.”

“Understood,” Officer He nodded to him. “We’ll return another time. Thank you for your trouble today.”

“It’s fine. The hospital suggests having his guardian present next time.”

Officer He didn't reply. The two doctors escorted me out of the visiting room.

Upon my return, of course, it was medicine followed by handcuffs. I was pinned down as if cemented to the bed, unable to even get up to attend to my bodily needs. That drowsy feeling returned; I was muddled all day long, nothing but sleep. In my dreams, I often revisited the moment I was stabbed with the dagger—seeing Li Xiaoshu standing nearby, clutching the blade, his grin sinister and eerie, before suddenly bringing it down, plunging the dagger deep into my hand. All four of my limbs were pierced by daggers; the pain was agonizing, yet I couldn't scream. Sometimes, I’d dream of my sister and parents, the whole family sitting happily on the balcony of our old house, sipping tea. My sister would occasionally pull out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my brow. As she wiped, I’d feel someone nudging my arm beside me, shouting my name: “Xiaoyu, wake up…”