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Falcon

After the summer solstice, the temperature gradually rose.

The quiet community was free from the pestering noise and air pollution of the bustling city, only the transient whistling as the scheduled trains crossed bridges into the distance.

Jiang Chijing didn’t use to like summer days. The glaring sunlight and sticky sweat stains repulsed him. He basically would never go out under the hot sun to exercise, and even the convicted felons in prison would taunt him for having skin so fair that he didn’t appear in the slightest bit like a prison staff.

However, just this summer, Jiang Chijing suddenly had a change of heart for this season.

It wasn’t for any bone-deep reason than that the hotter the weather grew, the more generous the neighbour living across the street became.

In the past, his neighbour would typically change into plain indoor clothing after coming back from work. The loose and comfortable short-sleeved white shirts hid his enviable figure, the sight flat and insipid for Jiang Chijing, peeping in on the sly.

But in recent days, in light of the rising temperatures, the neighbour opposite started to go around topless in his house.

There was actually once when Jiang Chijing witnessed for himself—his neighbour, topless, in an apron as he seared steak. If it weren’t for Jiang Chijing self-professing to be a voyeur with a bottom line, he would have whipped out his phone to secretly photograph this visual delight.

Had everything passed as normal, these uneventful, voyeuristic days would have gone on indefinitely; but there was a day after work that Jiang Chijing discovered that his neighbour was behaving a little abnormally.

Southside Prison was situated in the suburbs, no more than a ten-minute drive from Jiang Chijing’s house.

Jiang Chijing would clock off work punctually at five o’clock every day, whereas that social elite would only return home at nine or ten in the night.

Today, as usual, Jiang Chijing parked the car in the private garage in his yard. But when he got off the car, he heard the sounds of boxing from across the street, more intense than ever before.

He almost thought that his ears were mistaken, even purposefully going up to the bedroom to secretly peek over through a crack in the curtains—and the other man really was boxing.

This was unusual, for today was a working day.

What was even more abnormal was that the hands of the man weren’t wrapped in white bandages. Every fist caused the sandbag to rock. Rather than practice, this looked more like a venting session.

His expression was also different from usual. A ferocious scowl was present between his brows and his gaze wasn’t on the sandbag but trained on a certain spot ahead, like his mind was elsewhere mulling over something as he boxed.

It shouldn’t be anything good, Jiang Chijing thought to himself.

The man’s agitation was palpable. Jiang Chijing involuntarily started to guess what had happened.

Perhaps he had lost his job, which was why he would be boxing at home in the early evening of a working day. As for why he lost his job, maybe he had sexually harassed a colleague…

Hang on, why did his mind leap to sexual harassment?

Just because his neighbour oozed sensuality didn’t mean that he could tag indecent stereotypes onto him.

Jiang Chijing retraced his steps, contemplating what reasons there could be for this social elite to lose employment. Right then, the man opposite suddenly stopped, holding his two fists before his chest, inspecting his hands.

There seemed to be something on his hands. Unable to make out what it was, Jiang Chijing could only take out his monocular.

Once focusing it on the target and magnifying the visual, Jiang Chijing could clearly see the specks of blood on the man’s joints.

This wasn’t strange; that guy had brought it onto himself for not wearing his bandages. It was only natural to break skin from the force with which he used to box.

But the scene that appeared next stunned Jiang Chijing.

After staring at his hands for a while, the man suddenly stuck his tongue out, licking the wounded joints.

The curious sight of this caused Jiang Chijing’s heart to stutter. He unconsciously set down the monocular, but less than a second later, he couldn’t help but raise it again, continuing to observe the actions of the other man.

The ruthless expression from earlier had vanished, replaced instead by a tranquil calm that was without the faintest ripple. The man appeared to have fully vented his rage through his boxing, and now his face was utterly expressionless. Even so, Jiang Chijing could tell that his mind was preoccupied.

At this moment, it looked closer to cold calculating.

Jiang Chijing had always been astute at reading people. Yet to his surprise, at this very moment, he was actually unable to discern the other man’s emotional state.

He thought of the most dangerous convicts in the prison. This man’s expression as he licked the blood was a mirror image of those convicts, and he couldn’t stop the budding suspicion that formed—exactly how many facets did this man have?

On this night, Jiang Chijing cast his monocular aside. He felt that he needed to stave off it for a bit, else he would die of curiosity about this neighbour living across from him.

He passed the rest of the night watching television. The various media platforms successively broadcasted recent news concerning a sensational financial crime case, in which a hedge fund firm was suspected of maliciously shorting dozens of stocks, unlawfully profiting by nearly a hundred million dollars.

The case was still under investigation at present. The preliminary investigation revolved around the individual activity of each fund manager.

Cases occurred day in day out; the prison had no shortage of fresh faces. Disinterested, Jiang Chijing turned off the television and read a book until eleven, then routinely got ready to go to bed.

The watch placed on his bedside cabinet was once again two minutes behind standard time. This was a common failing of mechanical watches, that they’d often go off with the ticking of time.

It wasn’t as if Jiang Chijing couldn’t afford a new watch. Conversely, the salary for prison work was much higher than regular office jobs. He was simply reluctant to change from the watch that his parents had given him. After all, this watch could somewhat count as a family heirloom.

Winding the clockwork spring was a job that demanded patience. Jiang Chijing spent a long time winding it. However, when he was almost done, the sound of a dislocated spring suddenly twanged from the dial and in the next second, the knob in his hand suddenly loosened.

Brilliant. He broke the spring from winding it.

After deliberating for a fleeting moment, Jiang Chijing concluded that this shouldn’t be anything major, and thus got down to fixing it himself.

Two hours later…

Jiang Chijing flung the phone that was playing an instructional video aside, looking at the disorderly mess of watch components across the table with a headache.

Sure enough, professionals were professionals for a reason; he really shouldn’t have overestimated himself and impulsively tried to fix his watch on a whim.

It was already past one in the morning. The street outside was dreadfully still.

Despite being a young fellow of mere twenty-seven years, Jiang Chijing normally kept a healthy routine and seldom stayed up into the night like this.

He turned off the ceiling light and laid down in bed. Out of habit, he lifted the curtains before he slept, glancing across the road.

The goose-yellow building perfectly blended into the darkness, with only a lone streetlamp quietly illuminating the night.

Jiang Chijing absently set the curtains down again. Yet, for some reason, he kept feeling out of sorts, as if there was something amiss with the freeze-frame in his mind’s eye.

So he raised the curtains again and as expected, he caught sight of a dark figure furtively dithering outside the opposite yard.

That dark figure checked his surroundings for a while and then nimbly scaled the decently tall metal fence.

The charge of ‘criminal trespassing’ immediately came to mind. Jiang Chijing sat up straight, staring fixedly at the figure’s every movement.

The black-clothed man first circled the house once, then went to its side, climbing up the water pipe to the second floor.

That man should be a thief.

Jiang Chijing quickly formed a conjecture, but no more than a moment later, he dismissed it, because the black-clothed man was using some unknown tool to directly pry the window open and enter the bedroom.

It was impossible that a thief would enter the master bedroom this flagrantly. After all, that would be the riskiest room; no matter what, it would only be fitting for them to rummage the living room downstairs instead.

The surroundings were so silent that it seemed as though nothing was going to happen. Jiang Chijing could only hear his thumping heartbeat, infinitely amplified in his ears.

He grasped his phone, ready to call the police at any moment. But he left a little buffer time to wait and see if anything did happen; if his neighbour was able to react promptly to the black-clothes man’s intrusion, then he wouldn’t have to expose his presence.

No voyeur would be willing to expose their presence in front of the person they were secretly observing. Jiang Chijing was no exception to this.

However, Jiang Chijing had a slightly special background. Before working at the prison, he had worked as a court stenographer and was used to seeing all manners of trials in session on a usual workday. As such, he had formed a unique moral standard in his heart.

—Any misdeed must be recompensed.

Take now, for example. After taking advantage of the neighbour living across the street for so long, he ought to lend a helping hand when needed.

The few seconds of buffer time passed; the opposite bedroom remained pitch-black. Jiang Chijing rapidly called the police, but he was still unable to set his mind at ease.

What if that black-clothed man wasn’t a petty thief, but of another sort?

He had come into contact with many murderers in prison. Now, the word ‘killer’ inevitably surfaced in Jiang Chijing’s mind.

Perhaps he was overthinking it. But it wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility.

Even if the nearest local police station was within a one-kilometre vicinity, a short one minute was more than enough for a life to be lost.

Going on like this was too dangerous. He had to think of a way to awaken his neighbour.

Jiang Chijing didn’t shout; after all, he was unclear of the black-clothed man’s identity, he didn’t want to call the danger over to himself. He looked all about him, conveniently grabbing hold of the ballpoint pen on his desk and forcefully flung it at the opposite bedroom window.

But the pen was too light. It whizzed over and clattered down to the yard.

Jiang Chijing had no choice but to search for something heavier. He pulled the table drawers open and saw the ink bottle that was kept inside.

The ink bottle slammed into the outside wall by the window, its body shattering into smithereens, unfurling an inky blossom on the light-coloured wall.

Whether or not this had awoken his neighbour, Jiang Chijing was certain that this would have caught the attention of the black-clothed man.

He no longer hesitated, grabbing the bottle of cologne that his ex-boyfriend had given him from the drawer.

This time, the cologne bottle accurately smashed into the opposite bedroom and less than a second later, the lights turned on. Two shadowy silhouettes were cast on the thin curtains; one was half-hunched over, whereas the other flipped out of bed, unhesitantly sweeping a kick over.

Jiang Chijing’s two hands rested on the window frame, staring unwaveringly at the movements over there.

In the pitch-black night, the scene before his eyes played like an open-air cinema. The light struck rectangular theatre curtains, projecting a stimulating cinematic fight scene between two men.

But if it really must be said, Jiang Chijing’s neighbour had the upper hand.

His punches were not in any way sloppy, contacting solidly into flesh, dealing blows to the critical spots. Jiang Chijing had some knowledge of fistfighting. When it came to his neighbour’s fighting style, it would definitely be judged as a rule violation in international boxing tournaments due to its extreme brutality.

The winner was soon determined. Concurrently, a police car pulled up from the distance.

His job done, Jiang Chijing let out a sigh of relief, drawing his curtains once more. However, just as he did so, he suddenly heard a loud crash.

His curiosity moved him to raise a corner of the curtains again, and thus he saw that the bedroom window had been smashed through. The black-clothed man was lying on the cement ground in pain with glass shards strewn around him, whereas his neighbour was holding the window frame with both hands, looking coldly at the scene downstairs.

Jiang Chijing couldn’t help but find it strange. The black-clothed man was being overwhelmed to the point of being unable to return blows; were he to stumble down from the second floor, it could only be in an escape attempt.

However, in that case, the window shouldn’t have shattered.

Another possibility occurred to Jiang Chijing. His neighbour had knocked the black-clothed intruder down from upstairs, and judging from the cold apathy on his face, it was very likely deliberate.

In other words, he was utterly unconcerned as to the survival of the black-clothed man.

Recalling the way he had licked his wounds, Jiang Chijing suddenly had a feeling that this man seemed to be even more dangerous than he imagined.

Right then, as if suddenly remembering that someone had alerted him earlier, the man standing at the opposite window suddenly lifted his eyes without any warning whatsoever.

His line of sight shot straight over like a falcon on the hunt, with dense vigilance in the probing gaze.

Startled, Jiang Chijing hurriedly let go of the curtain, hiding in the darkness.