Dear Mr. Lu

Chapter 62

Astonishment, shock, panic... All these words were not enough to describe how he felt at the time.

He was frozen for a long time, then climbed from the driver's seat to the back seat, searching up and down; but the car was only that big, even if it was an extended version, and there was only that much room, so how would it be possible to hide a living person? And so quickly and easily, where could he have gone?

He wasn't in the car and he couldn't have gotten out of the car.

Just like that, vanished into thin air?

Lu Chong looked blankly at the kitten, and the kitten looked blankly at him.

They were both covered in blood, staring at each other in utter bewilderment.

"Meow!" The cat suddenly slapped his face with its paw.

Lu Chong woke up, his stagnant mind spinning, and then he subconsciously searched for something to wipe the blood from the seat.

No one must know, no one must know...

He wiped it twice and then tried to wipe the blood on himself, muttering, "What else is there to do, what else is there to do?"

Right!

He suddenly picked up the gun from the driver's seat, opened the door, and strode in the direction the car had driven from.

"Meow!" The cat jumped out of the car and ran after him.

He came to the spot where he had kicked out the driver. There was a puddle of blood on the ground, with traces of blood stretching all the way forward. He followed the blood trail to the river bank below, where the driver was stumbling forward.

His face expressionless, he raised the gun, pulled the trigger, and with a bang the figure in the distance fell to the ground with a thud.

The silencer on the gun had fallen off in the scramble earlier, and the shot was extremely loud. People were opening windows in residential buildings not far away. One of the women screamed, and others reached for the phone to call the police.

He glanced coldly that way, and several windows there slammed shut in a hurry.

"Meow." His trouser leg was tugged at; he lowered his head and picked up the kitten that had run up to his feet. He stroked its fur that was wet with blood and stuck together. The phone in his pocket vibrated and he realised he still had a mobile phone. In his panic earlier he hadn't even thought to use it to call for an ambulance or help.

The caller ID on the phone was one of his father's right-hand men, and when he picked it up, the other person's frightened, sad voice came through, "Come back quickly, Jiu Shao, something happened to your dad!"

He froze; his eyes felt sore but his face showed no expression and his voice was cold and hard: "Okay, I'll be right back."

He looked around blankly, looked down at the cat in his hands and said, "Ribs, let's go."

He went back to the car, which was still empty, as if everything had just been a dream.

Later, for a long time, he really thought he had had a dream. The young man came entirely from his own imagination, because he began to realise that he could not remember the young man's face and many details and conversations became blurred. When he asked people around him who had seen the teenager, the same thing happened to them. They only knew that there was that one person, but they couldn't remember exactly what he looked like.

The young man seemed to be very deliberate not to leave any traces of himself. He hadn't taken a picture, and everything he wrote would be destroyed on the spot. Lu Chong quietly took the blood and hair left by the young man for testing, but he couldn't extract any DNA.