Chapter Two: The Old Man's Words

Molane was driving alone, aimlessly wandering the city streets, hoping to capture that exhilarating feeling behind the wheel. Yet she soon discovered the crowded roads made driving anything but convenient. On a sudden impulse, she steered her car out to the wilderness.

She drove along the rarely traveled western road. The place was spotless; though maple trees lined both sides, their fallen leaves had long since been cleared away by workers.

The wind at sunset was truly beautiful here. But Molane was in no mood to admire it. She simply gazed quietly at her surroundings, lost in solitary thought.

Her heart was heavy and restless, her mind tangled and chaotic, as though she were about to fall seriously ill and would need days in bed to recover. Not even the wind could calm her troubled soul.

She had expected this place to be utterly quiet, but to her surprise, an old man appeared, approaching slowly in a wheelchair. The sound of wheels rolling over the ground snapped Molane back to awareness, but she had no desire to engage. She told herself he was just a passerby—after all, this road was wide enough for everyone.

"Why are you standing here alone, young lady? Are you already pondering the meaning of life? Have you seen through the world's illusions, or the nature of good and evil?" The old man's gentle voice drifted over. He sat in a motorized wheelchair, propelling himself forward with slow movements, and stopped beside Molane.

He hadn't intended to disturb anyone; in truth, he was rather lonely, and it was a rare thing to encounter someone here.

"I haven't experienced life's illusions, nor do I know the world's dangers," Molane replied softly, not even sparing him a glance. She hadn't wanted to speak, but replied out of courtesy.

The old man could see she was troubled, so he simply smiled gently and sat beside her, watching the scenery. Neither disturbed the other.

"It's normal for young people to have worries," the old man said after a while, seeking some comfort in conversation. "Once you sort through them, you'll be fine."

Molane only nodded slightly, remaining silent, her eyes drifting in a haze. With nothing more to say, she let time wash away her burdens.

She thought time might stop here, letting the two of them silently bathe in the fleeting beauty of the sunset. But then, a van sped toward them.

At the sound of the engine, the old man looked up in surprise. He saw immediately that the van's target was the two of them. Suddenly, he let out a bitter smile. Was it fate, or had he simply overstayed his welcome in this world? He was in a wheelchair because of a car accident that had taken the woman he loved most, while the perpetrator escaped justice. He had been confined to this wheelchair ever since. Now, even in his current state, those people still refused to let him go.

If his beloved hadn't died that year, his granddaughter would likely be Molane's age by now. The old man felt the cruel hand of fate pressing down on him.

In a split second, as Molane moved to intercept the van, the old man pushed her out of the way. She crashed into a tree, striking her lower back, and fell to the ground. The van barreled into the old man, knocking him aside before speeding away.

There was no proper license plate—it was an unregistered vehicle, its windows so thoroughly covered that it was impossible to see inside. The van's speed left no time to take in any more details.

Molane, a policewoman, was not easily shaken, but she hadn't expected this to be a premeditated murder attempt. Instantly alert, she moved swiftly to help the victim and apprehend the perpetrator.

She got up quickly and rushed to the old man's side. He was covered in blood but still able to speak, though he struggled to do so.

"Who could be so reckless behind the wheel? Damn it," Molane finally burst out, uttering words she thought she'd never say.

Ignoring her own pain, Molane pulled out her phone to call for help. She urgently needed to call an ambulance—she knew nothing of first aid and had nothing with which to bandage his wounds. For a moment, panic seized her; the old man might slip away at any moment.

"Don't bother," the old man said. "This wretched life of mine has run its course. I've lingered in this world long enough, and I am content. Good child, cherish your life, and treasure those who still care for you." As he spoke, he coughed up blood, his eyes devoid of struggle, filled only with resolute acceptance.

Molane was shaken by his words. How neglected by the world must a person be to say such things? To be a burden?

"Don't say anything more. We will save you," Molane replied, finally regaining her composure.

"It's too late for that, and there's no need," the old man answered, gazing at the sky as if awaiting something, a faint smile playing on his lips. Molane was stunned by the sight.

She followed his gaze upward, but saw only the blazing red glow of the sunset. And just like that, the old man closed his eyes, falling silent, his smile fading.

Molane called for her subordinates to come. Alone, sitting on the ground, holding the old man's lifeless body, she found herself questioning why she had become a police officer. Was it for justice? Were police deeds always righteous?

She sat there in thought for a long time, unable to find her way out. Her heart felt even heavier, her mind clouded. She was exhausted—twenty years of hardship seemed to surge up within her all at once.

When the other officers arrived, they found Molane sitting on the ground, holding a corpse, lost in thought.

"Captain, are you alright?" Liu Fei hurried over, brow furrowed deeply. Two murder cases in one day—the underworld seemed to be moving swiftly.

"Pull all the surveillance footage from this area and send it to me," Molane ordered. "I need to rest now." She wiped the blood from her clothes and prepared to drive home.

It might seem irresponsible, but she was simply too tired to deal with it any longer. With so many subordinates, must she handle everything herself? It was exhausting.

Liu Fei understood that Molane was troubled and weary after today's events, but the others did not. They, too, were tired after a long day. Some bold ones wanted to stop Molane from leaving, but under Liu Fei's stern gaze, they fell silent, clenching their fists in frustration.

When Molane drove away, Liu Fei took charge of the situation. Though the others were displeased, they still obeyed their captain's orders.