Night of the Angel of Death

Han An is dreaming.

Han An is wearing a backpack, skipping towards the front door.

Laughter is heard from the room, a familiar sound that he has been waiting for. He quickly pushes the door open, and indeed, it's his mother, still youthful and beautiful.

"Mom, I'm home!" He joyfully exclaims.

His mother reaches out her arms toward him, her eyes filled with affection. He rushes into her embrace, and she holds him tightly, caressing his head. He feels so happy.

"Mom, haven't you left yet?" He asks, tilting his small face.

His mother smiles, shakes her head, and takes his small hand, leading him out of the room. They walk and walk until they reach a tall building. The building looks somewhat familiar, yet also a bit strange.

"Mom, are we moving to a new place?" he asks.

His mother nods. Han An claps his hands and says, "That's great! We don't need to stay in that old ground-floor house anymore. It gets too hot and there are so many mosquitoes!"

His mother leads him into the building. It's very tall, seeming to have more than ten floors. They climb a spiral staircase for a long time. Finally, they arrive in front of a door and push it open, revealing a rooftop.

A gust of golden sand blows by, temporarily blinding Han An. He shields his eyes with his hand and, when he looks up again, his mother is standing on the rooftop's edge. She's wearing a white silk gown that seems to be fluttering in the wind, making her look like a fairy. He calls out to her, and she turns around. But no, that's not his mother; it's Vương Mạn. In her eyes, there are tears, and she appears to be overwhelmed with shame. Han An's breathing becomes heavy; he seems to sense something.

Vương Mạn truly looks like a descending fairy.

"Don't…" Han An desperately throws himself towards Vương Mạn. But just a step too late, in his hand, he's clutching a piece of white silk, and below Vương Mạn has turned into a pool of blood.

Han An, still in a dream, is in tears.

Huang Haonan is dreaming.

Huang Haonan doesn't know where he is. In front of him is a dense forest, with swirling clouds and mist, and the air carries a sense of unspeakable eeriness. The cries of black crows are mournful, the sound of footsteps running frantically, panting, and turmoil blend together in the surrounding darkness. As the distant sounds draw nearer, they seem to become real, but in the end, it's unclear why they suddenly fall silent. The fog has dissipated in an instant, and the figures of two people appear within Huang Haonan's view—a man and a woman.

The woman, Huang Haonan is intimately familiar with her, to the point where he recognizes her by her figure alone. It's his wife, Liu Chun. The man's appearance is initially somewhat blurry, but when Huang Haonan opens his eyes wider to get a better look, he suddenly realizes it's a more familiar face. It's himself.

Why is it like this? There are too many questions. Suddenly, a disturbing image emerges: the man, who is also himself, pulls a gun from his side without hesitation and fires several shots at Liu Chun.

Liu Chun falls to the ground, her blood erupting like a volcano from her body, spreading in all directions. In just half a minute, her blood has dyed the ground, the trees, the sky, and the entire world red.

Freud once said in a book called "The Interpretation of Dreams": Dreams are the fulfillment of desires. In a broader sense, dreams bring out various emotions—fear, joy, sadness, anger, guilt, anxiety, and more—buried deep in your subconscious, using a method of disguising reality.

So, what is Huang An hoping for in his dream? What is Huang Haonan afraid of?

Suddenly, he wakes up, his body drenched in cold sweat. He still lingers in the dream of bloodshed, feeling an inexplicable fear. Startled for a moment, he gradually returns to reality. He wipes the sweat from his body and uses cold water to wash his face. The bone-chilling coldness penetrates deep into his bones, making him feel more alive. He gazes at his reflection in the mirror, where the water forms droplets on his exhausted face, resembling scars etched into his skin, giving him a slightly sinister appearance.

"Why is it always the same dream? Liu Chun, how could I be your murderer? What do you want to tell me in this dream?" Huang Haonan murmurs to himself. At the same time, the memory of Liu Chun's murder case emerges in his mind.

In the middle of September last year, more precisely around 11 PM on September 12th, the city's police station received a report from a taxi driver who claimed to have found a dead woman next to a flowerbed in Zhongshan Park. Ten minutes later, the first group of police officers arrived at the scene and discovered that the girl had been dead for a long time. Her ID card identified her as Liu Chun, and the crime scene showed clear signs of murder. They immediately reported it to the Criminal Investigation Team.....

To be continue.