"Wherever I may have drifted, each day at dawn, when I woke from my dreams, I would tell myself that today would be a new beginning."
"But the moment I opened my eyes, it was as if a monster inside me had awakened too, tearing viciously at my wounds without restraint. That bone-deep pain reminded me, every single moment."
"I am the murderer of my children — the root of all misfortune."
"I sought the help of therapists. They said the monster was my conscience and my guilt — that I was the one torturing myself."
"They suggested I find a distraction, a place where my heart could find rest."
"I was afraid to interact with others. I took my medication, read through books, and tried to offer up my faith."
"Deep in my heart, I harbored a small hope — that perhaps God could forgive my sins and grant me salvation."
"In everyone's eyes, I was the executioner who had killed his own children. Only the God I believed in would not see me that way. I placed everything I had in God's hands."
"After three years, I finally stopped feeling the pain. Perhaps due to the medication, my body even began to show signs of reverse aging."
"My state of mind grew ever more peaceful. Then, in the autumn of the fourth year, the police brought a stranger to my door."
"That stranger was one of the men who had hurt my wife."
"He had come seeking my forgiveness."
"But why should I forgive him?"
"My wife had lost all three children. The day after the attack, she left me forever."
"I will never forgive him — never!"
"The stranger wept as he poured out his tormented heart to me, but I felt no sympathy. I only thought that his punishment was far from enough."
"Someone like him does not deserve forgiveness."
"After the stranger finished speaking, he seemed to feel much better. Seeing that look of relief on his face, I was consumed by rage."
"I lunged at him. In the struggle, the pendant around his neck was torn off — a necklace carved with the image of God. It fell to the ground."
"As though his most precious possession had been trampled, he shielded the pendant with his body and confessed his sins to the God carved upon it."
"I vaguely saw my own reflection in him — so familiar, including the God on that pendant."
"I had a pendant identical to his. We believed in the same God!"
"How could the God who had become my entire reason for living forgive the man who destroyed my wife?"
"After the stranger left, I smashed the pendant from my own neck and burned every trace of God in my home."
"The monster inside me awoke once more after four years. Wounds split open across my body — I had been broken all along, but had only been deceiving myself."
"Good. From now on, I will never again suppress that beast that gnaws at my wounds."
"I found a knife in the kitchen and went after that stranger."
"God forgave him. I did not."
The blood writing covered the walls, and there was more further back, but unfortunately it grew increasingly frantic and illegible — much of it couldn't even be read properly, more like the ravings of a man losing his mind.
The more Guo Miao read, the more frightened he became. "Could this be Boss Chen's past? A patient from Ward Ten had shown signs of reverse aging… could this face be one he used to wear?"
His mind spiraling with wild thoughts, Guo Miao panicked completely. "Don't tell me this is really made of human skin…"
He clenched his teeth, held his breath, and reached out to touch the face.