Chapter 102

The gray-blue cloth garment, faded from many washings, was covered in patches. The fabric? Zhao Ping felt a vague sense of familiarity, though he could not place where he had seen it before. He mused to himself that it was likely some trinket from the past; he hadn't used such low-class things in years. The Tomb Geezer’s sharp eyes were fixed steadily on Zhao Ping’s face, catching the confusion etched there. Yet, he never saw the flicker of sudden realization, nor any sign of repentance or guilt. He had forgotten. As the perpetrator, he had forgotten everything about his victim. Only the victim remembered. He wore the evidence of his crime on his body every waking moment, a constant reminder to himself.