"So this is what the outside world is like…"
Lin Fan stood quietly within the gated community, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. He had never once stepped beyond the walls of Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital.
And yet, he found himself missing it already.
The world outside was too silent. Too hollow.
Snapping out of his daze, he made his way to the nearby bus stop and stood under the sign, waiting patiently.
Beep-beep.
The Route 666 bus rolled to a halt at the curb.
Lin Fan boarded and dropped in two coins.
The balding driver, noticing his school uniform, kindly reminded him, "Hey there, student card's enough—no need to pay cash."
"Oh." Lin Fan nodded.
Beep.
"Student card."
The driver blinked, puzzled. The kid had already paid in cash—why swipe the card too?
Something's not right upstairs, he thought.
Ah well. Double the fare, double the joy.
The bus rolled forward.
Lin Fan sat quietly by the window. Soon, a little girl with pigtails and a backpack climbed aboard. She clutched the pole as the vehicle jostled along, her small frame swaying.
"Sit here," Lin Fan offered.
She couldn't have been more than a second grader. Her dimples appeared as she smiled sweetly. "Thank you, big brother."
He simply nodded. "Mm."
Time passed, the bus stopping and starting along its route.
Suddenly—
Smack!
A heavy hand landed on Lin Fan's shoulder. "What's our little Yangyang up to, huh?" The voice was mocking, and the slap—deliberately hard.
Lin Fan ignored him.
He didn't recognize the boy.
"Chen Yang, you think you're all that now? Not even acknowledging your old buddy?"
The one speaking—Zhang Hao—was annoyed. Normally, Chen Yang cowered at the sight of him, trembling like a kicked dog. His usual line? "Please don't hit me, I'm scared…"
Lin Fan searched his memory.
Zhang Hao. Long-haired, wannabe punk. A classmate. One of the regular tormentors.
A street thug in school uniform.
"Didn't I tell you to save me this seat?"
"Why didn't you?"
Zhang Hao, irritated by the silent treatment, reached out to spin Lin Fan around—ready to unleash the full force of his schoolyard fury.
But the moment his eyes met Lin Fan's gaze, he froze.
It wasn't rage. It wasn't madness. It was… stillness. Absolute calm. Like a vast, silent sea.
"You sick or something?" he muttered, shaken.
Embarrassment turned to fury. Zhang Hao, the school bully, intimidated by a look? Unacceptable.
Just then, the little girl beside them spoke timidly, "This big brother gave me the seat."
Zhang Hao scoffed but didn't press further. No use making a scene in front of so many adults. If someone told his dad, there'd be hell to pay at home.
He glared at Lin Fan and made a fist, shaking it subtly: You're dead after school.
Suddenly, a cry from the front:
"He's got a knife!"
"Someone's attacking—he's crazy!"
Panic swept through the passengers. People screamed, pushing toward the back.
A man wielding a cleaver shouted madly, "I'll kill you! I'll kill every last one of you!"
Lin Fan looked up at him and shook his head gently.
Not one of us, he thought.
Wrong aura. Not a real lunatic. They don't understand what a true madman is.
The man lunged toward the little girl.
Her eyes widened. No one moved.
She was going to die.
No one would reach her in time.
Everyone turned away—unable to watch.
Thud.
No scream.
No bloodcurdling cry.
They opened their eyes.
The cleaver had been caught—in someone's hand.
In Lin Fan's hand.
Blood dripped steadily onto the floor, pooling beneath his feet.
Even the attacker looked stunned.
"What… what are you doing?" he stammered.
"Let go!" the man roared, trying to pull away.
Lin Fan's voice was calm. "Why are you doing this?"
The air turned heavy.
The man's eyes darted. For the first time, he seemed unsure—like a fraud exposed.
"Doesn't it hurt?" he asked.
"It does," Lin Fan replied.
"Then let go!"
"Why are you doing this?"
Silence fell.
The man trembled, dazed.
The driver called the police with shaking hands.
"Argh!" the man screamed, clutching his head. "Why won't you let me kill them?!"
Lin Fan calmly pulled the blade from his flesh. Blood spurted anew.
He tossed the knife aside and turned to Zhang Hao, who had collapsed in fear.
Offering a blood-soaked hand, he said, "Hello. Let's start over."
Zhang Hao, pale and shaking, reached out hesitantly.
"H-hi…"
The warm blood trickled over his fingers.
He felt dizzy. Was he… scared of blood?
Wail of sirens.
Police and paramedics swarmed in.
The attacker was subdued. A tag hung from his shirt: Mental patient.
"Thank you, young man," an officer said, deeply grateful. "You saved everyone on this bus. That man escaped from care—his family failed to keep watch."
A doctor rushed over to bandage Lin Fan's wound.
Lin Fan glanced toward the captured man. "He's not insane."
The officer blinked. "You're sure?"
"Yes. He's unworthy of the title."
The officer looked baffled.
No matter.
The doctor began wrapping his hand. "You're incredibly brave," he said. "So much blood… and you didn't even flinch."
Lin Fan answered evenly, "Pain is training. My will is tempered."
The doctor stared at him, unsettled.
Something about this boy… didn't quite add up.