The Slaughterman Of Love - BestLightNovel.com
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Jiang Jun pushed her away coldly. "Not until she has a clear head in a week."
The so-called "to-have-clear-head" was to stay in a room in the next building. No phone, no book. Besides a bed there was only a toilet. One meal and one bottle of water a day. The meal might be a steamed bun that had already been bitten, or a bowl of sour porridge. There was no water flowing out of the faucet, so it had been several days since Jiang Youyou did not take a bath. The sickly smell coming out of her was revolting. She even thought there were knockout drops in the water, so that everyday her mind was full of voice saying "Go to die… You quickly go to h.e.l.l…"
The man wearing the cap wouldn't say a single word. He only came to see her at noon every day. Sometimes he would take a scalpel to scratch on trembling Jiang Youyou's belly, like a lunatic, to let the icy blade stretch down the navel.
She didn't cry for help, but closed her eyes to tell herself this was only an illusion. The man said to himself, "If I cut from the belly, there would be a lot of stuff coming out of it."
Jiang Youyou couldn't sleep well these nights. She sat in the corner dizzily in a series of phantasms of women in red with dishevelled hair swaying in front of her in the whole room. Some even lying in bed laughing at her with curved eyes and white teeth bleeding in the mouth.
She called for help from the balcony on the seventh floor, but no one would give a response to her. On the one hand, her voice was too soft, on the other hand, even if someone might hear, no one was willing to be a busy body. She had no pen to write a message on one of her banknotes to ask for help by dialing 110. And they might take away the money without helping her to call the police. Suddenly she felt painful as if a cat were scratching at her heart. She didn't know how she could leave this place of the h.e.l.l.
In here, wealthy men did not believe in the beautiful women, while beautiful women despised men without money and the men without money hated wealthy and beautiful women. If the women without money were not beautiful, they could not find a man. There were too many lonely men and women in this city who could satisfy their own desires but were swallowed by their desires. So every corner of the city turned into a site of desire-release. The mangrove forest beautiful at day was fully packed with men and women rocking and shaking at night. The night uproar raped the lingering spirits of the day. The pungent smell of cigarettes mingled with the smell of alcohol. It was in here where everyone looked like the homeless, blank and vacant. Even a dying baby was lying beside, and they would dodge after an empty glance.
Finally a crack was bitten in the sheet and then the sheet was torn into pieces, then bound in a braid. Tonight was the last night here. If she did not run away, she had to return to that h.e.l.l of Room 412. Under the circ.u.mstances she had no resentment against An Hua, only much to her regret, that she should trust others too easily.
A hole was torn in one corner in the iron railings of the balcony by her at last. The scar on the back of her hand was no longer bleeding. The strength, no matter how small it was, through slow acc.u.mulation, could destroy things seemingly very strong.
Putting down the rope twisted from the sheet, Jiang Youyou rejoiced at the fact that she was not getting fat, otherwise that smallest hole wouldn't let the extra fat out.
Late at night, the street below was deserted. At some unseen corners there were a few dim figures that couldn't be distinguished as men or women with cigarette in the mouths who were stabbing a syringe in their thigh. Such people would show no interest in a girl climbing down from upstairs.
She dared not to look down, with one hand pulling the rope, and the other making every effort to cling to the pipe of the sewer. She thought she was like a thief, or the Spiderman. In the pocket Fang Ruxiang sewed on her briefs there were still some banknotes, although sweat soaked and wet and soft, they were absolutely the best items to encourage her.
Jiang Youyou didn't know whether Auntie Fang would regret or not, allowing her to make her own way in outside world. Recalling the familiar bed in the welfare home, the little plush bear on the headboard, and the familiar air, familiar food, she dared not to cry aloud, only to leave tears running down her cheeks.
Sliding down little by little, she didn't know how long it would take when her feet landing on the ground. She held her breath and raised her head to see a crescent moon s.h.i.+ning coldly in this colourful and prosperous place. Could it tolerate a humble and insignificant me? She thought.