The past few seconds happened so quickly that Peng Xingwang felt like he was hallucinating.
“Xingxing, don’t worry about the yard right now. Take your phone and go to the nearest bedroom immediately,” Jiang Wang said in a serious tone. “Lock the windows, draw the curtains, remove the room key, and double-lock the door. We’re on our way back.”
Peng Xingwang felt as if icy water had been poured down his spine. Shivering, he turned and ran, finding the nearest guest room and following the instructions.
“I… I’ve locked it. I have the key.” He said, taking a deep breath. “Don’t worry about me. That madman headed toward the west gate of the neighborhood. He probably won’t turn back, right?”
“Don’t go outside. Wait until I come to get you before you leave. We’re already speeding to get there,” Jiang Wang replied in a low voice. “How much battery do you have left on your phone?”
“Forty-five percent,” Peng Xingwang quickly responded. “Should we communicate via text?”
“Yes. Stay in the room, and whatever happens, do not turn on the lights or unlock the door. No matter what noise you hear outside, don’t look out or open the door.”
After hanging up the phone, Jiang Wang felt chills run down his spine. He never anticipated that the madman would manage to sneak into their neighborhood.
Ji Linqiu, driving faster, seemed to read Jiang Wang’s thoughts and frowned. “It’s very likely he climbed over the wall.”
Those Western-style decorative walls were more ornamental than functional, and the electric wires strung across them were just for show. The poor security should have been evident ever since the incident when an elderly woman’s sheep were stolen.
A sheep could be replaced, but nothing must happen to Xingxing.
They had just finished a meeting and were at least fifteen minutes away from home by car. During that time, Jiang Wang reported the situation to the local police chief with rapid urgency.
“Be cautious about the flashing police lights and sirens. They might agitate the mentally ill individual, and he’s armed with a machete, which could lead to violent attacks.”
The authorities took the situation just as seriously, deploying forces at the fastest speed possible, equipped with riot shields, batons, and even sniper rifles.
Midway through their drive, Ji Linqiu stopped at a sporting goods store. Jiang Wang instinctively glanced over, nodded quickly, and rushed into the store with him. They purchased two metal baseball bats and several skipping ropes.
“And that bag of tennis balls,” Ji Linqiu added, grabbing it and slapping down a stack of red bills1red bill is 100 yuan, the highest denomination. “Keep the change.”
“Wait, this is way too much!”
The two men dashed back to the car and sped off again.
Meanwhile, the neighborhood remained eerily quiet, with no one aware of the looming danger.
The weather was unpleasant, a mix of drizzling rain and unbearable humidity, discouraging even the most energetic children from playing on the slides. Only a few latecomers strolled home at a leisurely pace.
Old Man Xing, having exercised alone on the fitness equipment for two rounds, sighed irritably as his shirt stuck to his back, wet from either rain or sweat.
Ever since he had harbored improper thoughts and sneaked into Old Lady Feng’s yard at night only to be pecked by her geese, other elderly residents had avoided him, and even the property management staff frowned at him, as if afraid he might steal from them.
Knowing he was unwelcome, Old Man Xing, who was already idle and bored, chose to take a walk in the rain instead of staying cooped up indoors.
Just as he was about to head home, he spotted someone in an orange coat carrying something from afar.
A firefighter?
What’s a firefighter doing here?
Old Man Xing glanced around for smoke or fire but, curious about what the person was carrying, stepped off the fitness equipment and approached.
One step, two steps—he couldn’t see clearly, especially with the fog rolling in at night.
By the time he got close, his pupils contracted instantly. His legs trembled uncontrollably.
A machete. The man was holding a machete, and it’s a big one!
Old Man Xing turned to run, but the man grabbed him by the collar.
“Have you seen my daughter?”
The three-eyed madman’s voice was hoarse, like blood drying and cracking.
“I haven’t! Let me go!”
Old Man Xing realized his terrible luck today and wailed, “Why are you coming after an old man like me? I don’t have any money!”
“I don’t want money. I want my daughter. My daughter,” the man muttered, his forehead marked by a long, swollen scar that resembled a third eye.
“What’s your daughter’s name? Where did she go? Go look for her there!” Mr. Xing struggled but lacked the strength to break free, terrified the man might slash him with the knife. Trembling violently, he babbled, “Go to the property management! Go to the police! Go to the TV stations!”
“Where did she go?” The madman mumbled, his empty eyes fixed ahead. “The river.”
“She said she was going to the river with her friends. I didn’t stop her, and then she was gone.” He gestured with his hand, the long machete slicing through the air in an arc. “The police searched. I searched. In the end, she was sent to the funeral hall. She was so bloated — you ever see her like that?”
“Her mom died giving birth to her, and it was just me, only me, raising her. Then one day, she was gone, just like that. A splash, and she was gone.”
The man laughed maniacally. “Fifteen years. I raised her for fifteen years. Just three more, and she could’ve gone to college!”
Terrified out of his wits, Old Man Xing shouted back, “How am I supposed to help you? Why are you taking it out on me?”
“I’m telling you, if you want a child or money, go to that house over there!” He pointed east. “The one with the garden full of gardenias! They’re the richest family around—go there!”
“Gardenias?” The madman muttered.
“I smelled them earlier. Where are the gardenias?” He broke into a deranged grin. “My daughter loved wearing gardenias in her hair when she was little.”
“A yuan for four flowers. I’d buy them, braid her hair into a ponytail, and pin two flowers in. She looked so pretty…”
While the madman was distracted, Old Man Xing yanked himself free, grabbed his collar, and ran for his life toward the west gate, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Help! There’s a madman here with a knife!”
“He’s armed with a machete! Be careful! It’s half an arm’s length!”
“Security! Where’s the security? Call the police!”
The madman stood frozen for a moment, a look of concern crossing his face.
“That’s bad. A madman got in.” He hurriedly headed back, knife in hand. “I have to protect my daughter. She’s at the gardenias…”
As Old Man Xing’s desperate screams echoed through the neighborhood, lights flickered on in several houses. Yet no one dared look out.
Fearing the madman might chase him, Old Man Xing ran out the west gate with all his might. He hadn’t even caught his breath when he saw a row of police cars lined up, officers disembarking one after another.
“Help! Help!” He waved his arms and shouted, “There’s a madman inside! He’s after kids! His daughter drowned!”
Jiang Wang had just parked the car when his face went pale, and he rushed forward.
“Did you see the madman?”
Old Man Xing hadn’t expected the person he owed money to show up so quickly. He cursed the heavens and stomped his foot. “That madman went toward your house. I tried to stop him, but he waved the machete at me!”
Jiang Wang quickly thanked him and ran toward the gate.
The police hurried to stop him. “Don’t rush in, it’s dangerous, you might get killed!”
“I don’t care,” Jiang Wang said, brushing aside a baton and leaping over the barricade with a baseball bat. “My younger brother is in there.”
“Hey, you can’t do that! Come back!”
“Insane,” Old Man Xing muttered. “One after another — what’s wrong with these people?”
Ji Linqiu arrived moments later, vaulting over the barricade to follow Jiang Wang.
The police officer, having failed to stop one, couldn’t believe another was running in. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
“No,” Ji Linqiu replied, leaving only his silhouette behind as he sprinted after Jiang Wang. His voice echoed in the distance.
“—He’s also my younger brother.”
–
Jiang Wang, having served in the military for years, was well-practiced in anti-terror drills, yet he never imagined he’d one day face such a scenario in real life.
He even regretted not snatching a gun earlier.
Just as he hesitated for a moment, hurried footsteps came from behind him.
“What are you doing here?!”
“I had to come,” Ji Linqiu said calmly. “You take the front door, I’ll go around back. We need to cover each other.”
Jiang Wang frowned. “You must be careful. Don’t engage recklessly.”
“I understand.”
Meanwhile, Peng Xingwang was hiding in a wardrobe in the small guest room, straining to hear any noises from outside.
He was grateful that his older brother’s thick winter coats and jackets were hanging inside. He had tucked his head, arms, and legs into the clothes, ensuring that even if the wardrobe was opened, he wouldn’t be visible.
This room was adjacent to the garden, and since it was a guest room, the outdoor soundproofing wasn’t great.
The boy waited nervously for his brothers to return, his heart pounding. Suddenly, he heard the creak of the garden’s iron gate and the sound of a padlock being pushed open.
Peng Xingwang immediately covered his nose and mouth, his heartbeat racing.
An unfamiliar, hoarse voice called out a nickname, something like “Fenfen” or “Wenwen”, rising and falling eerily, as if calling a lost soul.
Cold sweat broke out on Peng Xingwang’s back as he curled up tightly in the corner of the wardrobe.
The man outside paced back and forth, trying to enter the house to find his daughter, but he was suddenly interrupted by a voice.
“Come here.” The voice was calm. “Your daughter is waiting for you at the neighborhood gate.”
It was his big brother!
Peng Xingwang felt a surge of adrenaline and, despite the fear, thought to himself how cool his brother was. ‘Big Brother is so handsome! He came back to save me!’
‘Big Brother even survived in Hong Kong—he’s definitely not afraid of this guy outside!’
The madman, disoriented, turned toward the voice and muttered, “You’ve seen her?”
“I’ve seen her. She’s been waiting for you, asking why you haven’t come.”
“No, no, I couldn’t find her,” the middle-aged man said with a terrified expression. “I would never leave her behind. Take me to her. I’ll go right now.”
Jiang Wang gripped the metal baseball bat tightly, stepping backward cautiously, luring the man out of the yard while keeping his front facing the threat. He never turned his back, refusing to expose a weak point.
His gaze was like that of a hunting leopard, every breath deliberately controlled to its lowest frequency.
Inside the room, Peng Xingwang could no longer hear what was happening outside. His anxiety mounted, but he dared not leave the wardrobe. Pressing his palms together, he silently prayed for every deity he could think of to protect his brother.
Suddenly, there were two light knocks on the bedroom door.
“Xingwang, are you here?” Ji Linqiu’s soft voice called. “Teacher’s here to get you out.”
