Chapter Fifty-One: Heavens, the Great Demon King Has Returned! (Please add to your favorites, and vote for recommendations!)

To truly portray a character well, one must naturally immerse oneself in that role.

During his days at the junkyard, Li Shixin spent most of his time observing. The living environment, everyone’s outward behavior, and the motivations behind those actions were points of special interest to him.

Several of the vagrants at the junkyard were quite fascinating.

Take the big guy, for example. He was uneducated and often got swindled by the buyers at the recycling stations when he collected scraps outside. Out in the world, he was meek and timid, never daring to retaliate when mocked or ridiculed by others. Yet, when among those who shared his circumstances, he became irritable and quick-tempered.

His lack of education and low social status had bred a deep-seated inferiority complex within him, and combined with his strong physique, these resulted in two starkly contrasting outward behaviors.

Then there was the man they called Needle, suffering from uremia—a bundle of contradictions in his own right.

He knew his family couldn’t afford treatment for his illness. If he stayed, he’d only drag his family down with him, so he left. Most of the time, his sickly face was blank and expressionless, as if that numbness could make him forget his pain for a while.

But each day, he was the earliest riser in the junkyard, the hardest worker when out collecting scraps, and the most frugal of them all. In the days Li Shixin spent picking up bottles, he saw Needle argue fiercely with other vagrants over the smallest bit of junk, but never once saw him spend any of the money he earned. All his meals consisted of leftovers scavenged from restaurants. Every cent he saved went towards his dialysis.

Inside that shell resigned to death, there was a heart that desperately wanted to live.

Yet among all the vagrants in the junkyard, the one who intrigued Li Shixin most was the very person who’d first drawn him here.

Unlike everyone else, this individual seemed intent on blending into the air itself, disappearing whenever possible. While scavenging, she chose bins in secluded alleys. Once back at the junkyard, she locked herself in her van and never interacted with anyone.

At first, Li Shixin thought she might be mentally ill. But after several days of careful observation—watching the way this person, always swaddled in a thick coat, walked and the subtle gestures they made—he realized something extraordinary.

She was a woman.

And not just that—a woman with an aching homesickness.

On the third day after arriving at the junkyard, the day following his moonlit flute playing, Li Shixin noticed someone had entered his bus during the day. Yet, apart from his battered flute, nothing else was disturbed.

In the days that followed, he deliberately played a tune about home on his flute each night. Each time, he noticed a pair of tear-filled eyes peering at him from the darkness of the van.

What happened next unsettled him deeply.

It began with a rag doll.

On the sixth day, while collecting old items for him, the big guy found a rag doll over two feet long. Li Shixin didn’t think much of it and didn’t take it, but one of the vagrants, bored and idle, began kicking it around like a ball.

That very night, the vagrant was slashed deeply in the foot with a sharp object—the wound cut to the bone.

Li Shixin, always observant, noted that not far from the van was a heap where glass bottles were piled for recycling.

A woman.

A fierce protective instinct toward things like rag dolls that symbolize children.

A severe tendency toward violence.

A fear of, or deliberate avoidance of, contact with others.

And, as the big guy had mentioned before, this person was extremely obedient—doing whatever was told, always careful not to cause trouble.

All these clues put together, Li Shixin became almost certain—she was a fugitive.

Still, he couldn’t be sure. Before he left, he carefully washed and repaired the rag doll, placing it together with the flute in front of the van.

He hoped... that this woman—whether to be pitied or despised—might find her way back.

Even if she didn’t, he hoped she would realize her identity had been exposed and would move on. At the very least, she should not bring any more harm to Li Erchun and the big guy at the junkyard.

With these worries in mind, Li Shixin wandered over to the bus stop near the junkyard with his hands behind his back. He dropped his last yuan into the fare box, and after strolling and dawdling for over an hour, finally arrived near Jianhong Community.

Just as he was about to get off, the bus’s local news broadcast came on.

“Breaking news: Around six o’clock tonight, Jian’an Police Station received the surrender of a vagrant scavenger. Upon investigation, this individual was identified as Liu, the suspect in the 9/13 case from three years ago. According to our reporter, Liu is thirty-eight years old and resides in Mei He Town. Three years ago, she discovered that while she was away, her remarried partner had—”

“Sir, Jianhong Community stop. Are you getting off or not?”

Hearing the impatient reminder from the driver, Li Shixin snapped out of his thoughts, nodded with a smile, and slowly gripped the railing as he got off the bus.

...

He had taken the last bus, and by the time he got home, it was already past seven.

The season had turned; evenings were cooler now, and there were far fewer old folks gathered in the community square. He made his way up the cluttered corridor, and before he even reached his apartment, he could hear Zhang Shuo’s boisterous voice.

“Hey! If I don’t win your underwear off you this hand, I’ll never touch poker again! Look at this—four, five, six, double sequence!”

“A bomb—triple threes. Take it or not? If not, I’ll play fives.”

“Damn! Pair of twos!”

“Quad eights. Jack-Queen plane with wings, three aces with two tens—nothing left.”

“Hell! I’m done! What kind of hands are these?!”

Standing outside the door on the third floor, Li Shixin peeked through the open doorway and saw Zhang Shuo once again being thoroughly schooled at the card table. He shook his head with a wry smile.

As Zhang Shuo surrendered, the extras in the room started chatting idly.

“By the way, Chief Zhang, your old man isn’t back yet? He’s been gone for over ten days, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, maybe... he’s getting on in years and got lost somewhere?”

“Heh,” Zhang Shuo shook his big head, “It’d actually be better if he didn’t come back! Before he arrived, my sister was always calling me ‘brother’ this and ‘brother’ that. Ever since he showed up, all she talks about is the old man—I can’t even tell who the real head of this household is anymore!”

Looking into the room, Zhang Shuo grumbled, shaking his head, while Li Shixin chuckled softly and pushed open the door.

“I can’t even live in my own place anymore—my sister kicked me out to bunk with you bunch of gofers. The place I’m in now, can’t shower, can’t use the toilet; every night before bed I have to keep two bottles handy, I—”

Just as Zhang Shuo was gesticulating wildly in complaint, Li Shixin, to the astonishment of everyone in the room, walked up behind him with a genial smile.

“Shuo’er.”

At the sound of that old, familiar voice, Zhang Shuo’s whole body jolted.

The anger on his face gradually turned to panic.

But stubborn as ever, he refused to turn around.

Instead, he switched his tone immediately: “I’m just doing what I should! My godfather’s come all the way to Rongdian at his age to chase his dreams—if I don’t support him and provide a good environment, what kind of person would I be?! He’s been gone ten days, and I think about him day and night, I even dream about his smiling face. Look, I’m hallucinating now—I feel like my godfather’s standing right behind me!”

Ignoring the fact that Li Shixin was standing right there, Zhang Shuo, sweat beading on his forehead, continued his little performance for the group of extras, faces all twisted with amusement and disbelief.