The Murderous Diary of a Female Doctor

Today is the fifth day of stalking.

Where to make a move? How to make a move?

The only opportunity is during the ten-odd minutes after Bo Rongqi gets off work before he reaches the community gate, under the dense tree shade.

How to make a move?

How to ensure a smooth and flawless abduction without being seen by others?

Move the car over and make a move when he walks by? That would require me to wait another three months.

Three months is the time urban road monitoring videos are retained.

I don't have that much time.

On the open highway, even if no one is around, how to ensure he won't yell for help? And how to get him into the car without leaving any signs of struggle?

At the third fork on this tree-lined path, Bo Rongqi will part ways with a colleague. That colleague will turn onto Linyuan Second Road here, leading to Hongqi Street. There is an annoying surveillance camera at the corner that would capture the car plate number, driver's image, and Bo Rongqi's image.

No, too risky.

"Bang!" Someone beside me accidentally knocked over the roadside railing.

The wheelchair fell over, with its wheels still spinning.

"Oh my, you gave me a fright wearing all black like a ghost this late at night. I didn't even see anyone there!" An old man fell at my feet, yelling in pain.

I quickly squat down to check if he has any external injuries first.

He is a man in his sixties, still quite spirited.

I lift the wheelchair up straight, then support him from under his armpits to help him onto the wheelchair.

The old man frowns, "Wearing such dark clothes and walking without a sound this late, you nearly scared me into a heart attack."

I squat down with a hand on his pulse—it's strong and steady, not fast or slow. The old man is in good shape.

"Sir, shall I take you to the hospital for a checkup?"

From the corner of my eye, I see Bo Rongqi merely glancing back at the commotion before continuing on his way.

"Why would I go to hospital? I just got out of one, don't want to go back there! Young lady, let me tell you, hospitals are nasty places!"

"Is there anything I can help with then?" I don't pry into why he's pushing a wheelchair here so late. Everyone has their own story.

"Could you please push me to the restroom inside? There's a clog in my building's sewage pipe at home, and I haven't found anyone to fix it yet."

I push him along the accessible ramp. Surprisingly, this ramp is wide and smooth—most are too narrow and bumpy to be of much use to the visually impaired.

"It's dangerous for a young lady like you to be out jogging this late. Hardly anyone comes here. If anything happens, you'd be alone with no help in sight."

"But aren't you here as well, sir?"

"That's different. What trouble could an old geezer like me possibly get into!"

"Any person could be in danger." I say.

There are perverts, robbers, people holding grudges against society, drunk drivers... No one is one hundred percent safe.

I tell the old man I'll wait for him outside the restroom and take him back home after. He doesn't refuse. I can tell he feels quite lonely. He also doesn't maneuver the wheelchair too well—his left foot is blocked by his pant leg, revealing a plaster cast underneath.

The night is very still. The hazy light from a distant streetlamp barely reaches us.

But as we round the bend, I'm stunned to find this is the place!