Chapter 103: The Judgment That Cannot Arrive

Gao Zhiyuan's mind was a blank.

Every frantic, incoherent word from the teacher on the other end of the phone turned into a sharp noise, tearing at the last strand of his rational nerve.

He couldn't even remember how he hung up.

The world twisted, spun, and faded before his eyes.

He bolted out of the house like a madman, forgetting to pull the key out.

The wind howled in his ears, like the screams of countless wronged souls.

Pedestrians and vehicles on the road turned into blurry color blocks, which he flung violently behind him.

He felt nothing.

He couldn't feel the searing pain in his lungs, nor the lead‑weight heaviness in his legs.

He only knew to run.

Run!

Faster.

Even faster!

Maybe, maybe he just got injured......

Maybe Wenwen is still waiting for him, waiting for dad to hold her......

That thought was the only floating log in his mind, and he clutched it tightly, daring not to let go.

When he finally scrambled and crawled to the school gate, the glaring police tape and flashing lights shattered his last pitiful fantasy completely.

He saw it.

Right on the cement ground beneath the teaching building.

A patch of blinding, quickly solidifying dark red.

And... in the center of the dark red, a white cloth, stained through, covering a tiny outline.

"No......"

Gao Zhiyuan let out a wheezing, wind‑leaking sound from his throat.

He wanted to rush forward.

"Sir, please calm down! This is a crime scene!"

Two police officers held him firmly, their arms like iron tongs.

"Let me go!"

Gao Zhiyuan strained with all his strength, his eyes bulging as if about to split, blood vessels spreading wildly from the depths of his whites.

"That's my daughter... my Wenwen... let me through!!"

His roar was no longer human, more like the dying wail of a beast.

All the surrounding murmurs and gazes vanished in an instant.

In his world, only that white cloth remained.

That thin white cloth that separated life from death.

He couldn't break free.

He could only watch helplessly.

Watching the last speck of color in his world be completely devoured by that cold white.

Gao Zhiyuan eventually blacked out.

When he awoke again, he was in a hospital.

The cold light shone on his face, without a hint of warmth.

A young police officer handed him a cup of hot water, his tone heavy.

"Mr. Gao, please accept my condolences. The preliminary investigation results are in."

Gao Zhiyuan lifted his head numbly, his gaze hauntingly hollow.

The officer flipped open the record book, reciting the formulaic sentences that could torture a person.

"Based on the classmates' statements and the scene's traces, it can be basically confirmed that your daughter Gao Siwen has long suffered bullying from classmates Liu Ya, Wang Qianqian, and Sun Li."

"On the day of the incident, the three were on the teaching building rooftop, again insulting and beating student Gao Siwen."

"During the shoving, student Gao Siwen...... lost her footing and fell to her death."

Lost footing.

Again, those light, fleeting two words.

Gao Zhiyuan clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm, drawing blood, yet he felt no pain.

He only wanted to know the outcome.

He croaked and asked.

"What will they... be sentenced to?"

The young officer's gaze flickered away, and finally he lowered his head.

"Mr. Gao, Liu Ya and the others are all under sixteen... according to the Minor Protection Law, they..."

Gao Zhiyuan could no longer make out the rest.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

The same law, the same excuse, the same...... bullshit.

That monster who raped and murdered his wife was sentenced to five years.

Now, how long can the murderer who killed his daughter be sentenced?

Three years?

Two years?

Or...... they simply won't leave any criminal record, years later they can still take the college entrance exam, having their bright future?

On what basis?

On what basis do they still have a future!

Gao Zhiyuan laughed.

He looked at the police before him, laughing until tears streamed down.

That laugh was dry and hoarse, filled with endless sorrow and mockery.

Justice?

This damn world, where's any justice!

He was unwilling.

In the coming days.

Gao Zhiyuan was like a trapped beast, dragging his already ruined body, running around.

Seek media, seek reporters, he wanted to make a big deal of it, he wanted everyone to see the demons' faces!

Make them pay the price of despair!

But all the media avoided him.

Those reporters who once would have shoved a mic in someone's face for clicks now looked at him with a sympathetic yet distant gaze, then politely refused.

Until one late night, an old reporter with white hair pulled him into a deserted corner and handed him a cigarette.

"Don't waste your effort."

The old reporter sighed, his voice lowered to a whisper.

"Do you know who the father of the girl named Liu Ya is?"

Gao Zhiyuan looked at him blankly.

"Liu Jianjun."

"Deputy Detachment Chief of the City Bureau's Criminal Investigation Team."

Liu Jianjun...

That name, like a black lightning bolt, instantly split Gao Zhiyuan's chaotic mind.

He finally understood.

He understood everything.

What law, what order, are nothing more than an umbrella in the hands of the powerful, used to protect their families and shield their wrongdoing.

And he, such a powerless ordinary person, could only stand in the downpour outside that umbrella, soaked to the bone, frozen stiff, watching helplessly as his everything was swept away by the flood.

As it turned out, he had lost from the very beginning.

He didn't even have the qualification to sit at the table.

Gao Zhiyuan didn't go look for anyone else.

He returned to that home.

That home once filled with laughter and joy, now colder than a grave.

He neither cried nor grew angry again.

He just sat silently on the living room sofa, motionless.

One day.

One night.

He watched sunlight stream in through the window, illuminating the dust in the air with perfect clarity, then watched as the sunlight slowly faded and darkness swallowed the whole house.

He was neither hungry nor thirsty.

All his physiological needs had drifted away from him.

When the morning sunlight of the next day shone on his face again, Gao Zhiyuan slowly rose to his feet.

In his gaze, all sorrow, anger, and despair had vanished.

Only one thing remained.

A burning, black, emptiness.

He began to orderly sort out his wife and daughter's belongings.

He wiped each photo clean, one by one, carefully, and placed them in the most prominent spot in the living room.

In the photos, his wife smiled gently, his daughter smiled brightly.

They were looking at him.

After doing all that, he walked out the door.

He went to a hardware store and bought the sharpest, narrowest boning knife.

He returned home.

He sat under the lamp late at night, using a whetstone, over and over, to sharpen that blade.

"Swish...... swish...... swish......"

The monotonous sound of metal scraping echoed in the quiet room.

The blade, under his polishing, reflected a chilling gleam, bright enough to sting the eyes.

He opened the computer, his fingers striking the keyboard with precise and steady motions.

Soon, he found his daughter's school calendar.

Three days later.

Whole-school parent meeting.

He can blend in there logically.

Gao Zhiyuan turns off the computer and walks to the dressing mirror.

He hides the cold‑glinting knife inside the inner pocket of his Windcoat.

Then, he begins practicing the draw‑knife motion.

Once.

Again.

His movements become faster and faster, steadier and steadier.

Fast, precise, ruthless.

The man in the mirror has a gaunt, withered face, sunken eye sockets, so thin he's lost his shape.

But those eyes shine terrifyingly, like two clusters of ghostly flames faintly burning in a graveyard.

Finally, he stops, turns and looks at the largest family photo in the living room.

It shows the three of them, taken at the seaside.

He reaches out, his fingertips gently brushing the smiling faces of his wife and daughter in the picture.

A twisted, mournful smile slowly appears on his face.

Within that smile lies endless tenderness and a raging hatred.

In a near‑whispering tone, he says softly:

"Qingqing, Wenwen."

"Dad won't wait any longer."

"Soon, Dad will bring those beasts... down to keep you company."