At this moment, dawn had not yet broken, and the full moon, dragging its tattered light, was pushed into a layer of thin clouds.
Xu Si grabbed the memorial portrait and let out a faint snicker. Her rosy lips were whitened by teeth marks. With the slightest pressure, her soft, white teeth could draw tiny beads of blood, dense and sweetly pungent.
The sensation of stinging pain vanished into her nerves, leaving her mind surprisingly clear.
As she looked at the keen eyes in the portrait, she began to recall many things.
To be precise, it concerned a particular incident on a particular day.
That year, Hong Kong Island didn't have the Triad Society yet.
The Xu Family also hadn't reached its current pinnacle of success.
She witnessed her father carry her mother into another person's room. The moment he came out and closed the door, a second voice from inside—base and sordid—struck her soul.
