I looked around outside the shop. The wide road was busy with cars, but Xia Qingzhi was nowhere to be seen.
"Where did she run off to?"
Following the street toward her school, I thought about how she'd worked hard all afternoon on her homework — she couldn't afford to get scolded for forgetting something.
Not far ahead, a sudden sound of a breaking bottle came from the alley behind the shop.
"Qingzhi? Is that you?"
Feeling my way along the wall, I peeked inside the shadowy alley. A high school girl in uniform with dyed yellow hair was brandishing a broken bottle like a weapon.
"Got no shame, huh? Think you're some kind of saint?"
Young people these days resort to violence at the drop of a hat. I shook my head. This was a matter the school needed to handle — outsiders shouldn't interfere.
Just as I was about to leave, the yellow-haired punk shouted,
"Rip her clothes off! Record it! Let the whole class see this bitch's true colors!"
"That's downright cruel."
I believe human nature is basically evil and that proper education is needed to correct it. This punk obviously lacked any upbringing. I wanted to slap her twice and teach her everyone is equal.
"Did you hear me? Behave yourself! Always hanging out at adult shops, pretending to be pure?"
A man's voice this time, not sounding like a student.
"I've hated her for a while now — always acting aloof and cold at school, then running off to those filthy places after class. Ugh, disgusting!"
"Why aren't you saying anything? Ashamed because we caught you? Feeling like dirt now?"
The venomous insults kept coming. Even I felt my face flush hearing them.
"Listen up! Tonight, Brother Chen wants to take you drinking and karaoke. Don't be ungrateful, thinking your looks let you get away with anything. You'd better listen to Brother Chen or else you'll regret it."
The punk waved the broken bottle, gesturing aggressively.
"Enough, don't hurt her. This girl's got a good body and face," said the speaker, apparently Brother Chen.
"If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe a well-behaved honor student would spend the whole afternoon in places like that after school."
Brother Chen's smile was full of ill intent: "If you let others enjoy, you can let me enjoy too. Tonight, no one's leaving sober."
"Brother Chen, don't forget me," the punk teased.
"Fine, fine, tonight I'm going for a double whammy!"
Brother Chen's men started grabbing the girl being bullied.
Smack!
"Damn! You slapped me? Brothers, teach her a lesson!"
Several thugs beat the girl against the alley wall, no sign of holding back.
"That's too much." I couldn't watch anymore and stepped into the alley.
"You big guys bullying a little girl? Have some shame!"
"Who the hell are you? I warn you, don't make trouble for yourself!" A thug with earrings pointed at me and cursed.
"I wasn't going to interfere until you called my shop a dirty place. That I can't accept."
I rolled up my sleeves.
"Come on, all of you. Don't say I didn't give you a chance."
I'm no expert against ghosts or demons, but if I can't handle a few street punks, then all my time in police clubs was wasted.
"Shut your mouth!" Two thugs came at me from left and right.
"You're too slow — less nimble than the old ladies doing square dancing."
As they reached me, I bent down, dodged one's punch, and then unleashed a powerful kick that sent the other flying.
The guy hit hard in his ribs and kidneys, groaning and unable to get up.
"Got weak legs? With this body, you dare street fight?"
"Damn, everyone get him!" The rest rushed me. The alley was narrow, and my injured calf wasn't agile. I took a few punches, but years of police fitness training made my skin thick and my muscles tough. They weren't enough to take me down.
After a rough brawl, I finally pulled out my secret weapon — an 8,000-volt stun device — and subdued them. Seeing them twitching, foaming at the mouth in the alley gave me a sense of accomplishment.
"Behave from now on. Next time you think about bullying someone, remember how this electric shock feels."
The bad guys couldn't even beg for mercy — that's what I call justice.
With the thugs dealt with, I walked deeper into the alley. A girl sat with her eyes downcast. Her uniform zipper was broken, arms crossed protectively against the dirty wall. Her backpack lay on the muddy ground, stamped with footprints.
It was the first time I observed her so closely. Her youthful face showed pain and fear she couldn't hide. The gentle lines of her face, though faint, made her all the more pitiful.
"Qingzhi, it's alright now."
I ran my fingers through her black hair, the closest we'd come to intimacy.
She slowly raised her head, biting her lips hard to hold back tears. Clear marks streaked her face that no effort could hide.
"It's okay, it's okay."
She grabbed the corner of my shirt. I didn't know how to comfort her, but suddenly I understood. Because of The Netherworld Live Show, because of her missing brother, because of this unspoken secret — I might be the only man in the world who truly understood Xia Qingzhi.
When everyone else left her, thinking her a hopeless lunatic or a split personality freak, only I could stand by her — because only I knew her words were the truth.
"Here, your textbooks and homework. You're old enough not to be so careless."
I picked up her backpack and dusted off the dirt.
"Let's eat first, then I'll accompany you home. We can check out your brother's marks too — maybe we'll get a breakthrough."
Back in the shop, I found a men's shirt for Xia Qingzhi to change into. Then we hurriedly grabbed dinner, catching the curious stares of passersby.
"Qingzhi, there's something I'm not sure if I should say."
"Hmm?"
"In private detective work, usually the client pays for meals."
"I'm wearing headphones, can't hear. Hey, plug this in for me."
Twenty minutes later, dressed unusually, Xia Qingzhi and I arrived at her apartment. Some older neighbors pointed and whispered as we climbed the stairs.
"If your parents ask who I am, what should I say?"
"Just say I'm a teacher from our school doing a home visit."
I made up a quick excuse. But when we got inside, her parents weren't home.
"Great. Take me to your brother's room — let's hurry, quick and efficient."
Her apartment was a three-bedroom, one living room. Not particularly wealthy, but solidly middle class.
"This is my brother's room. It's been turned into a storage room, a bit messy."
She flipped the light on, and we entered.
"Where are the marks? Let me see."
"Under the bed."
Moving the clutter aside, I crawled under.
"Near the wall, at the very back, there are some words carved with a small knife."
I shined my phone's light, spotting several crooked red characters.
"The color's faded. This was carved with a knife dipped in blood."
The handwriting was sloppy, like a terrified person trembling while carving.
"When will this nightmare end? I don't want to livestream anymore. I'm dying, I'm dying!"
"Points in the negatives — I can feel them coming! Don't take me away, I don't want to die!"
"In the hallway, outside the window — are they right next to my bed?"
The words on the bedframe must have been the last message from Xia Qingzhi's brother. His points had dropped below zero, and The Netherworld Live Show was about to erase him.
These lines only prove that the show can make people vanish without a trace — not very helpful for me.
"Did your brother leave any other information?"
Xia Qingzhi thought for a moment, then pulled out a framed photo from her backpack.
"This is the only photo my brother left. I kept it with me since he disappeared."
Holding it in my hand was a family portrait — Xia Qingzhi and her parents, plus a tall, sunny, handsome boy holding a basketball, but his face was unseen.