Chapter 3

Chapter 3

But why?

Before I could think further, the killers pried open the door and stepped inside soundlessly.

Tap, tap, tap-

The footsteps drew closer.

I held my breath, trembling as I lay under the bed, my hand clamped tightly over my mouth. I felt as if my heart would leap out of my chest at any moment.

Through the narrow gap, I saw two men approaching the bedroom. They began rummaging through our belongings for valuables. At his closest, Fat Kun was less than half a meter away from me.

The two of them circled the room but found no one. The Thin Man spoke first. “Fatty, let’s go check upstairs.”

The faint sound of a door closing followed. After a long while, my heart still racing, I let go of my mouth and began to crawl out from under the bed with light, cautious steps.

Suddenly, a bloated face appeared right in front of mine.

My heart stopped. They hadn’t left at all!

Fat Kun’s face-the face that had appeared in my nightmares countless times-leered at me with a lewd grin.

“Heh, trying to pull a fast one on the masters? The water in the cups is still hot. How could there be no one here?”

That was my first death.

Everything that followed was largely the same as before.

The only difference was that during the struggle, I managed to stab Fatty once with a fruit knife before being hacked to death on the spot.

The moment blood sprayed, I saw Grandma’s eyes fly open in terror.

At that point, Ma Jiu looped a rope around her neck. She looked dazed and confused, offering no resistance at all.

I wanted to scream for her, but not a single word could escape my slit throat.

After my parents died in a car accident, Grandma and I were all each other had.

She raised me by selling pancakes on the street, waking up at four in the morning and working until midnight. Some mean-spirited neighbors would gossip about her: “Granny Deng, your life is so bitter. If only you had a grandson, you’d at least have someone to rely on later.”

Grandma had a good temper and never got angry. “My Song Song is smart and hardworking. Do you think she won’t look after this old woman? Besides, which boy could be better than her? Granny Zhang, your grandson is in the same class as Song Song. You tell me-where does my Song Song rank?”

My name is Qin Song, because Grandma loved pine trees the most.

Neither violent winds, floods, bitter cold, nor droughts could destroy them.

They can grow on steep cliffs or reach toward the clouds, competing with the heavens for height.

I vowed to be like a wild pine, constantly growing upward. I would go to the best schools, pick the best major, and earn a lot of money.

That way, Grandma wouldn’t have to work from dawn to dusk, wouldn’t have to breathe in so much oily smoke, and wouldn’t have to endure the ridicule of nosy neighbors.

She wouldn’t have to cry herself blind over receiving a single counterfeit bill ever again.

But why… why couldn’t I do it?