Volume 1, Chapter 56: The Scalpel

On our very first meeting, Chang Sisi actually tried to hit me?
Just because her father is the chief of the public security bureau, she could be this arrogant?
This reminded me of Qin Shao, who threw his weight around at school simply because his father was a police station director, earning the hatred of countless people.
I stood still, but lifted my chin with a cold expression.
The moment her palm came down, I would immediately turn around and leave, refusing to tutor her ever again.

Ha!
Chang Sisi burst out laughing, pulled back her little hand, akimbo, and giggled, "Zhou Yan, I was just teasing you! Were you scared to death?"
"I was not scared at all!" I retorted stubbornly.
"Are you scared of this?"
With a mischievous smile, Chang Sisi suddenly pulled a willow leaf-shaped small blade out of her pocket, nimbly spinning it around in her fingers a few times, and parted her red lips to utter four words:
"Throat-slit with a single slash!"

Holy shit!
That was a surgical scalpel—made of hard material and razor-sharp.
"Scared!"
I recoiled in terror, subconsciously covering my neck with my hand, desperately wishing I could turn and run for my life.

Chang Sisi burst into laughter, tossed the scalpel casually onto the desk, and beckoned, "Zhou Yan, you're so interesting! Come sit down, let's talk!"
Am I interesting?
This was the first time anyone had ever described me that way, and I found it quite surprising.
For the longest time, I had always considered myself introverted and dull.
Even Yu Qingman's neutral assessment of me was just that I was as quiet as a tree.

I pulled over a chair, sat down opposite Chang Sisi, and asked with curiosity, "Classmate Sisi, do you usually carry a scalpel around for self-defense?"
"Yeah, nobody dares to bully me."
Chang Sisi tilted her chin up proudly, then added, "I just love dissecting small animals. My dream is to become a forensic pathologist, it's just a pity I've never had the chance to dissect a human body."

A chill ran down my spine, and my face drained of color.
Chang Sisi was the boldest girl I had ever met, yet she possessed the pretty face of an angel.
"You're not making this up, are you?" I asked, feeling alarmed.
"Of course not!"
With that, Chang Sisi unzipped her schoolbag and pulled out a small glass box containing a frog.
Although the frog was motionless, I was certain it was alive.

Chang Sisi spread a sheet of white paper on the desk, put on a pair of rubber gloves, took out the frog, and pressed it belly-up onto the paper.
She picked up the scalpel and, with a swift slash, sliced open the frog's belly.
How bloody, and how disgusting!

I quickly stepped back, but Chang Sisi remained unbothered. Muttering something about how the nervous system should have been blocked beforehand so it wouldn't struggle, she placed the gutted frog on a paper tray and set it on the windowsill.
At that moment, I began to hesitate once more about whether I should tutor Chang Sisi.
She seemed like a very dangerous girl, perhaps even a bit perverted.

We sat back down, and the subsequent conversation turned out to be quite normal.
Chang Sisi made no attempt to hide the fact that she was a poor student, ranking near the bottom of her class.
She had attended countless cram schools without making her brain any sharper, the type who studied hard but could never get the hang of it.
Yet, she still wanted to go to college, preferably entering a medical university to fulfill her grand dream of becoming a forensic pathologist.

I, on the other hand, told her that diligence and hard work were only one aspect of improving grades, and that studying also required technique.
Take me, for example—I had several error notebooks used to identify and patch up my weaknesses.
I could share my exclusive study secrets with her.

Chang Sisi was overjoyed, her smile radiant.
She confessed that what she wanted most right now was to escape cram school and gain more free time.
We agreed that three days later, on Saturday afternoon, our tutoring sessions would officially begin.
The location for the tutoring would be this very room.

Chang Sisi presented me with a gift—precisely a delicate surgical scalpel.
She made no secret of the fact that she collected several sets, some of which were even imported from abroad.
Her parents supported her dissection hobby and hoped she would become a forensic pathologist.

Since I was wearing a suit today, I worried the scalpel might cut through my clothes.
Chang Sisi found a scabbard for me—a high-end kind that could be attached directly to garments and held extremely firm.
I chose to attach it inside my sleeve and slid the scalpel right in.
In truth, I didn't really want the scalpel, nor did I know what use it could be; I simply didn't want to reject Chang Sisi's kindness and hurt her feelings, especially since we would be seeing each other often in the future.

Seeing that I was getting along well with Chang Sisi, chatting and laughing, Meng Wanying was extremely pleased.
I thanked her once more for her hospitality and bid her farewell.
Meng Wanying walked me all the way to the entrance of the residential compound and even had the security guard issue me an access card.

It was already ten o'clock in the evening.
I left Anhe Residential Compound and walked a short distance before a taxi approached.
I waved my hand, and the taxi pulled over by the roadside.
The driver was wearing a face mask and a black cap.
I pulled open the front passenger door and sat in, just about to tell him to head to Yumei KTV, when suddenly a large hand reached in from behind and covered my mouth and nose.
Clutched in the palm was a damp handkerchief.

Instantly, I was reminded of the scene when I left the house on the second day of the college entrance examination, and I struggled fiercely in panic.
Never could I have imagined that I would be hijacked once again, and this time my chances of survival looked grim.

Yet, only a dozen seconds later, I lost consciousness.
When I regained consciousness, everything around me was pitch black, and I had no idea where I was.
A rag was stuffed into my mouth, and the smells I inhaled were nauseating, making my stomach churn violently, though I couldn't vomit.
My hands were bound behind my back, my feet were tied as well, and I lay sprawled on the cold ground like this.
Aside from the faint chirping of insects, there was not a single sound around me.

A deep-seated fear welled up from within my heart, and I wriggled my body hard, but it was all to no avail.
What should I do?
I didn't want to die in a strange place like this.
With my hands and feet immobilized and my mouth muffled so I couldn't call out, how could I possibly escape?

Suddenly, my wrist brushed against something, igniting a spark of hope for survival in my heart.
It was precisely the surgical scalpel Chang Sisi had given me.
The thugs who had hijacked me hadn't searched me thoroughly enough and had failed to discover this item.

I had to stay calm!
Exercising extreme caution, I managed to turn my palm around and used the middle finger of my other hand to unlatch the scabbard.
Slowly moving my arm, I let the scalpel slide out bit by bit.
Finally, my hand gripped the scalpel, and with it, a lifeline.

Inch by inch, I used the scalpel to cut through the rope around my wrists.
With my hands freed, I hurriedly pulled the rag out of my mouth and took deep, gasping breaths.
Fumbling in the dark, I used the scalpel to cut the ropes on my legs as well.
Trembling all over, I finally managed to stand back up.

Feeling my way around as I moved slowly, I touched an earthen wall, its surface covered in rough, gritty particles.
This place must be a mud hut.
Stepping carefully while supporting myself against the wall, I felt a wooden door.
I pushed hard against it, but the wooden door merely rattled a few times and refused to budge; something was barricading it from the outside.

At that moment, my desire to escape burned with exceptional intensity. I raised my foot and kicked viciously at the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of me kicking the door was exceptionally crisp, echoing all around.
I no longer cared whether the noise would attract the thugs; gripping the scalpel tightly, a fierce murderous intent surged within my heart.
I'm going to kill those bastards!