I slowly picked up the razor-thin scalpel, the very one I’d demanded from You Qiaolin back when I was trying to crack the Ou Jinglan dismemberment case, just so I could try to feel what the killer felt. Back then, though, I’d only practiced on slabs of pork. Now, I finally had the chance to use it on human flesh, though I never imagined it would be my own.

I gently placed the edge against my own vein. As the icy steel met warm flesh, it seemed to exhibit a strange kind of yearning.

It craved the cut!

It yearned to bring an end to this sinful life of mine!

If even the blade wanted me dead, what reason did I have to live?

Without pausing for a breath, I drew it lightly across my skin, and a single bead of blood seeped down the bright steel. This sinful blood had finally come due. Perhaps now those whose lives I took could finally rest in peace!

Perhaps when I met Xiaoxuan in the next world, she wouldn’t blame me!

Crimson blood flowed silently, and my consciousness grew hazier, drawing me closer to the next world. Vaguely, I could see the legendary Bridge of Helplessness, and the grim-faced Granny Meng Po waiting there.

Suddenly, a dark shadow flashed, blocking my path. I looked up and saw a figure standing before me, face smeared with gore and mud, hair a tangled mess.

Could this be the vengeful spirit come to claim my soul?

I involuntarily took two steps back, terror gripping me to the core, completely forgetting that I was no longer truly human.

At that moment, the figure brushed back their hair. I stared intently, and tears immediately flooded my eyes. I cried out, “Xiaoxuan!”

Xiaoxuan looked at me, tears streaming down her face, leaving two clean tracks on her cheeks.

I shouted, “Xiaoxuan, don’t cry! I know I hurt you, but that wasn't the real me—it was the other ‘me’ inside my body!”

Tears streaming, Xiaoxuan desperately shook her head, seeming to try to tell me something, but no words came out. I tried to move closer to her, but she frantically waved her hands, gesturing for me not to approach.

Suddenly, Xiaoxuan spun around, looking toward the deep, inky blackness on the other side, her expression frantic. In that instant, she rushed to my side and whispered into my ear: “Yoga.”

The second syllable had barely left her lips when she dissolved with a peng, vanishing into smoke in the dark air.

I roared up at the pitch-black sky, “Xiaoxuan! Xiaoxuan…”

“You’re finally saved.”

A voice boomed beside my ear like a clap of thunder. I blinked open my eyes and saw several figures in white coats staring down at me. Elder Jiang stood right beside them.

I later learned that when I called Zhang Jiewei, his sharp intuition immediately registered that something was wrong, which is why he asked me where I was in that final moment. Because of that, I was lying here now.

“Wang Lei, do you have any idea what a stupid thing you’ve done?”

I remained silent. I was already an unforgivable murderer, bent on ending my own life to avenge Xiaoxuan and all the victims. I had failed to die this time, but I was determined to succeed next time.

However, before I died, I absolutely had to figure out what Xiaoxuan meant by ‘Yoga.’ She wouldn’t have told me those two words for no reason, especially not at the final second. I was certain there was a meaning behind it.

I believed this because I trusted that my hallucinations would eventually overlap with reality—that they contained premonitions. In previous visions, I’d seen Xiaoxuan and Xiao Cuo point me out as the killer, and every vision had since come true. That’s why her last two words provoked such a powerful reaction in me. I wouldn't rest until I found the answer!

I lay quietly on the [BLANK]. As time slipped away from me, I must have mentally repeated those two words countless times, yet I couldn't grasp their meaning.

I knew Xiaoxuan had practiced yoga before—that mysterious discipline originating from India. But what connection could it have to her death or any of the other events?

It seemed I had no choice but to visit the yoga studio Xiaoxuan frequented.

“How exactly are you managing this team? Isn’t the Special Affairs Office chaotic enough already? If you have the guts, go find the killer! What is this nonsense?” Elder Jiang continued to rail.

Just then, Zhang Jiewei appeared by the bedside. His face was still stone, and his words were still cold, though the sentiment behind them was slightly softer: “In many matters, it isn't you who makes the decisions, nor can you truly make them.”

I remained quiet. I understood what he meant, but he didn't understand the truth. If he knew everything, I imagined he would be the first person to escort me to the execution ground.

I stared at him blankly, suddenly realizing he wasn't cold at all, because his blood surged with untamed righteousness!

Elder Jiang stated, “You rest and recover first. But you must promise not to pull such a stunt again, or I’ll have you chained up here twenty-four hours a day.”

I nodded without speaking.

Elder Jiang, to his credit, trusted me on this point. He knew that once I gave my word, I would keep it. After berating me a few more times, he and Zhang Jiewei left.

Because I’d suffered severe blood loss, my body recovered quickly once the transfusions were complete. Yet, I dreaded returning to the bureau. I was a criminal, a condemned man guilty of monstrous crimes; I couldn't bear the pressure of justice.

Elder Jiang showed no mercy, as usual. As soon as I stepped out of the hospital entrance, he pulled up in his car. I couldn’t tell if it was coincidence, if he had eyes and ears in the hospital, or if it was the uncanny perception of his other ‘team.’

When I arrived back at the office, I kept my head down, unable to look anyone in the eye, like a thief caught red-handed facing the owner.

Given my current poor state, Zhang Jiewei was reinstated as Team Leader. Furthermore, since the Special Affairs Office had suddenly lost two members, two new faces had been added. But I had no interest in meeting them, nor did I intend to. If I never knew them—like Xiao Cuo and Gao Jianning—maybe none of this would have happened.

I noticed that Feng Siyan’s hatred for me seemed to have eased, perhaps my suicide attempt gave her some measure of sincerity. She didn’t know I deserved every bit of it. Still, I was numb to it all now; Gao Jianning was my fault, and I would repay that debt with my life sooner or later.

Elder Jiang held a brief meeting, handed out necessary instructions, and then told me, “Go home and rest. Start work tomorrow.”

I nodded and turned to leave, but Elder Jiang’s voice came from behind: “Answer!”

If this were the past, I would have stood rigidly at attention like Zhang Jiewei and loudly replied, ‘Yes!’ But I wasn’t the same person. I sighed listlessly and pushed the door open. Just as the door closed, I heard Elder Jiang mutter, “Damn, I must be seeing ghosts!”

Outside the police station, without the oppressive weight of justice, my spirits lifted considerably. I hailed a cab and headed to the yoga studio.

Jingyi Yoga Studio was situated halfway between the bureau and Xiaoxuan’s apartment, occupying nearly half the seventeenth floor of an office building. It was quite well-known in Anyin City. I had accompanied Xiaoxuan here a few times before, so I was somewhat familiar with the place.

Inside, I saw men and women performing various peculiar movements, with women being the majority.

I went straight to Xiaoxuan’s female instructor and presented my badge. The instructor looked to be about thirty, with incredibly smooth skin and a refreshing aura. Her physique was flawless, as if measured by a ruler.

Seeing my credentials, she looked quite surprised. She had seen me several times before but had no idea I was a police officer.

“Miss Lan hasn’t been here in ages. Could she be a cop too?” The instructor was a little gossipy, but gossip fueled her interactions with other women—a necessity of her profession.

I nodded heavily. Xiaoxuan was a perpetual, searing pain in my heart; any mention of her, anywhere or anytime, instantly plunged me into sorrow.

The instructor immediately picked up on the grief in my eyes and adopted a very nervous expression. “Did something happen to Miss Lan?”

Though I knew her reaction was perfectly natural, I couldn't help but wish I could shove a rag into her mouth.

Suddenly, a shiver ran through me: When I killed the priest, perhaps it was because he was too long-winded that I exerted such force to stop his mouth, causing it to burst!

I forced myself to stop thinking about it, as my hands were shaking. It felt as if one more word from the instructor, and I would tackle her to the ground and stuff the sweat-soaked cloth she was holding into her mouth.

The instructor sensed danger, backing up two steps and staring at me. “What is it you want?”

“I… I need to know about her usual activities here, and anyone she interacted with. Tell me everything you can recall.”

Though the suspicion in the instructor’s eyes deepened, she didn't press further about Xiaoxuan. She replied, “Miss Lan has been with us for nearly three years. Her circle was quite wide. Besides, she was outgoing and interacted with many people. Sometimes she even brought new members in for practice, so many people knew her.”

“Were there any suspicious individuals?”

“Suspicious?” The instructor’s expression clearly indicated that I was the most suspicious person here, but she said aloud, “No, everyone here studies yoga, and most are women. No one suspicious.”

By her tone, it seemed only men were qualified to be criminals. I didn't argue; instead, I continued, “Then, which male members did she know?”

A spark of gossip flashed in the instructor’s eyes, which she immediately suppressed, returning to a serious demeanor. “There weren't that many—probably no more than ten.” She paused, her expression shifting slightly as she watched me.

This woman is definitely not a true yoga practitioner, was my sole assessment. But under the current circumstances, encountering someone like her was fortunate, as she might offer something beyond my imagination.

My expression softened slightly, and the instructor’s posture relaxed further, accompanied by a hint of a teasing smile.

“Were any men paying specific attention to her?” I asked.

“Paying attention—what kind of attention? Obvious, or discreet?”

I knew what she was thinking but chose not to correct her, replying, “Count both.”

The instructor became visibly excited. “Miss Lan was truly stunning; quite a few men paid attention to her, both acquaintances and strangers. I’ll tell you slowly.”

The instructor then launched into a detailed account, recounting one thing after another. According to her, almost every man who had seen Xiaoxuan was potentially suspect.

I cut her off. “Tell me the three to five men who paid the most attention to her.”

The instructor paused, thought for a moment, and then said, “Li Qinglin is one, Bin Hairong is another, Zhou Zhixiong is a third. Hmm, Pei Chengqiang and Zhang Qiyuan also fit, and Yi Mingchun too.”

She had finally confirmed an extra person and looked at me with a hint of self-satisfaction. I gave her no praise, responding coldly, “Take me to the office. I need all the files on these six people.”

The truth was, I currently had no defined target or direction for the investigation. I was just taking things one step at a time because Xiaoxuan’s mention of ‘Yoga’ was too vague, covering too broad a field for me to start anywhere concrete. But regardless, it had to be related to the ‘Yoga’ circle or events. Among the people, the men who focused on her were naturally the most suspicious.

The studio’s files were sparse—just names, gender, and basic stats like height and weight. The only truly useful item was the phone number.

After noting down the six phone numbers, I asked, “Did she have a personal locker?” I had only ever waited for her outside; the changing rooms were off-limits.

The instructor nodded. “Of course. All our members have their own lockers, but she kept the key.”

“Take me there,” I requested calmly.

“No! That’s her personal property. She has to open it herself; you can’t go messing with it.” The instructor suddenly refused my demand.

I knew her refusal was reasonable, so I lowered my voice and told her, “She’s dead. She can’t come.” Saying the words brought a sharp, needle-like pain to my heart.

The instructor was utterly horrified, her mouth hanging open, refusing to close for a long time.

I composed myself and said, “I hope you will cooperate with my work.”

The instructor nodded mechanically, maintaining her expression of shock, and led me to the women’s changing room. As we entered, she forgot to knock. Fortunately, I remembered, waiting until the few women inside who were changing had left before we stepped in, thus avoiding shocking several more innocent people.

I inspected the locker. It was thin metal, the kind that could be forced open with a screwdriver or similar tool. I asked the instructor for a screwdriver and pried the door open.

As the metal door crashed open, my heart rate spiked violently. I was suddenly reminded of that terrible door at the Grand World Trade Center.

That was the door that determined my fate. If I had never opened it, I would have lived forever in a dream. But once opened, I became a real devil. Even now, I still didn't know if opening that door had been right or wrong.

The small metal door fell weakly to one side. I peered in quickly and saw a folded set of practice clothes inside.

I took out the uniform and examined it. There was nothing inside, not even a pocket.

“This locker can be repaired and reused. I’ll take the clothes,” I said.

The instructor hesitated, looking at me, then asked, “Did Miss Lan really…”

“If you utter a single word of this to anyone outside, I will personally come and take you away!” Facing such a gossipy woman, intimidation was my only recourse.

Just as I was leaving the yoga studio, a call came in. I checked the screen—it was Zhang Jiewei.

“Wang Lei, where are you now?”

“Near the sports center. Is something wrong?”

“I’ll be right there. Wait for me.” He hung up abruptly.

It was after working hours. Zhang Jiewei had never called my private line before. I wondered what the emergency was. Could it be a call to repay the life debt?

About ten minutes later, Zhang Jiewei arrived. The moment I saw him, I asked, “What’s the matter? Why hang up so fast?”

“Nothing major. Just feeling restless. Thought I’d find someone for a drink.”

When the Special Affairs Office was first established, there were five of us. Now that Xiaoxuan, Xiao Cuo, and Gao Jianning were gone, the distance between Zhang Jiewei and me had unconsciously narrowed, even though I still couldn’t stand that stone face of his.

Hearing him say that, I felt a flicker of interest. I needed alcohol now to numb myself, to momentarily forget the things I couldn't forget.

We didn't deliberately seek out a fancy hotel; we ducked into the nearest establishment and ordered a few random dishes. Zhang Jiewei ordered half a case of beer—he looked serious about drinking—and I didn't hold back, ordering a bottle of Fu Yu Lao Jiao.

Through three rounds, we didn't talk much, just downed glass after glass. But the atmosphere wasn't awkward at all; it proved the old saying—everything is understood through the drink.

Zhang Jiewei and I were truly from different worlds. I never would have imagined sitting down to drink alone with him before, but fate’s arrangements are always surprising. Now, we were like two fish who had slipped through the net, feeling a strange sense of mutual understanding.

In what seemed like no time, half my bottle was empty, and my head was starting to swim. Zhang Jiewei looked more agreeable, and my own tongue loosened. He, too, seemed to speak more, though the expression on his face never changed.

But we consciously avoided discussing work. Since the old team was down to just the two of us, only a self-destructive fool would bring up those topics.

I looked at Zhang Jiewei and said, “Do you play Go? We should play a few rounds sometime?”

Zhang Jiewei shook his head. “It requires too much brainpower. I generally don’t play.”

“That means you know how. We’ll have a good match later.”

“Forget it. One game takes hours. I’d rather watch a few soccer matches.”

I thought this guy, being as solid as a rock, had no hobbies or interests, but it turned out he was a football fan.

“Pfft, what’s so good about moronic football? Might as well watch a few action movies.”

Still, Zhang Jiewei wasn’t a conversationalist. After a few exchanges, he quieted down, just listening to my nonsensical ramblings while continuously downing his beer.

I was more than halfway through my bottle, and my speech was growing bolder. I glanced at him sideways. “Honestly, I seriously doubt you have any friends.”

Zhang Jiewei wasn’t offended; he puffed out a breath laced with alcohol. “Friends? How many true friends are there in this world? Do you have any?”

“I do!” I thumped my chest. “Of course, I do! Chen Yujia is one!”

The name tumbled out before I could stop myself. He truly was the closest confidant and the most perfect person I had ever met.

Zhang Jiewei’s expression shifted slightly. He frowned. “You’re close with that psychologist?”

“Absolutely. If I get the chance, I’ll introduce you to Yujia. I believe you two would become friends too.”

Zhang Jiewei took a long swig of beer without committing to an answer, but I suddenly froze, a flash of lightning striking my mind…