He was bringing his fists down on that old man with what seemed like limitless strength and energy, and the sounds escaping from his lips weren’t Mandarin or English or any other language that could be translated but something far older—something that existed before words, something that only served to communicate one thing: fury, rage, desperation. Bai Xue’s skull clung to its structure for the first few hits and then it cracked like an egg against a bowl, caving in like the door Weiran had been kicking only minutes before, but Weiran kept going, only dimly aware of the blood pooling around him, of the blood spattering against the walls, of the mess beneath him that barely resembled a person anymore—

“Weiran! Zhu Weiran!”

Someone was grabbing at his arms. He ripped out of them with a roar and dove back toward Bai Xue—

“Zhu Weiran, he’s dead! He’s dead!” Another grab at his arms, firmer this time, yanking him backward and twisting him around and pressing against something bigger than him, warm. A hand pressed against the back of his head and cradled it. “He’s dead. He’s dead.”

Weiran’s chest was heaving.

“He’s gone, Weiran.”

It was Xingyu. Xingyu had found him, Xingyu had stopped him, Xingyu was holding him.

Weiran shuddered.

“You went and talked to Sun Yue, didn’t you? Asked her where Bai Xue was hiding.”

There was no point denying anything now. “Yeah. The sea…Bai Xue…”

“Okay. Okay, Weiran.” Xingyu pulled at him again, guiding him back out of the room and back into the hallway. “You did a good job. It doesn’t look like anyone called the authorities on you despite the noise. It won’t be long before someone notices the broken door, though. Did you touch anything, Weiran?”

Startled, Weiran looked up at him, met his eyes. Xingyu was deadly serious.

“Answer the question. Did you touch anything?”

“Only…him.”

“Okay. Fuck, okay.” Xingyu raked his free hand through his hair. The other hand, still pressed against Weiran’s head, betrayed none of this anxiety. “We can figure something out. If they find evidence they can use against you, I’ll get a lawyer. It’ll be okay.”

“He won’t…”

“He’s dead, A-Wei. He won’t be getting up again, and he won’t be hurting Xiao-Xiao again.” He took a deep breath that Weiran felt against his own chest. “I told myself on my way here that, if you hadn’t done enough, I would find a way to finish the job. But you did more than enough. If he does have an identity for the police to find, they’ll even have a hard time with dental records.”

Weiran didn’t know how to process what that meant. He looked down at his hands.

Red.

“Xingyu,” Weiran whispered. “He’s really gone. It’s over?”