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8 She’s a Thief!

 She did not have a clue what her job had been before she had lost her memory. But somehow she was able to pass through the security barriers easily. She found a changing room with a tiny shower inside. She could hear the faint trickle of water and people's laughter. Vapor lingered in the air. In the middle of the changing room, there was a long bench with lockers lining both sides. On the bench was a set of clothes that had not been stored away as the owner had just gone to shower.

She walked over and sat down on the bench. She removed the blood-stained top and inspected her wound. There was a mirror directly opposite her. She looked up and saw the top half of her body in the mirror. Instantly, she was left stunned.

When she had woken up from the operation, she only knew that she had been injured. There was a thick bandage wrapped around her abdomen. But only when she looked at herself in the mirror did she realize that there was more than one injury on her body.

The wound on her abdomen had burst open and the entire bandage was soaked in blood. On her chest was another wound, a deep one. It looked as though she had been stabbed by a dagger. She could vaguely make out the blood stains within. Her left arm was wrapped in bandages too.

Greenish and purplish bruises were scattered all over her body. There were minor injuries left too. She inspected her face carefully in the mirror. She noticed that her face was a pale ashen white. The color had drained from her face and her eyes were soulless. Her eye sockets were recessed deeply. Without any exaggeration, she resembled a corpse.

Who was she? What had she experienced before she lost her memory? Why did have no clue at all?

What happened to the injuries on her body? Why hadn't anyone looked for her all this time while she was hurt?

There were so many questions she wanted to know the answers to.

A stir in the bathroom disrupted her thoughts as the noises of people's footsteps echoed constantly. She glanced over and hurriedly put on a loose-fitting blouse and a grey overcoat she took in passing. Holding the hospital gown, she rushed out the door.


The next time Mo Han saw that girl was two days later.

That day, he had just left the firm. It was close to ten at night and he was driving home. On his way home, his nicotine addiction kicked in. He opened up his trunk and realized that his cigarette box was missing. He parked the car on the side of the road, grabbed his wallet and went to the nearest supermarket to buy a packet of cigarettes.

It was at the entrance of the supermarket where he saw her.

She had changed into a different set of clothes, but she was still as pale and anaemic as two days ago at the office. She looked especially tired. At that moment, the cashier was berating her.

She did not say a word, nor did she lower her head. She just stood there silently and leaned against the counter, holding a hand to her forehead. Since it was already late at night, there was no one else in the supermarket. The cashier's voice seemed to be particularly loud, as she began to yank her.

Mo Han had no clue why he walked up to them. He never made it a habit to be a busybody. But that night, he walked up to them and asked, "What's going on?"

She turned her head and saw him. She was only a little shocked, but she did not look at him any further. She continued leaning against the counter with one hand on her abdomen, looking a little uncomfortable.

"She stole something," the cashier said.

The girl helplessly rolled her eyes without speaking.

Mo Han turned to her. "Did you steal something from her?"

"I just took something from the supermarket and asked if I could take it as a loan, but she refused."

Upon hearing this, the cashier was consumed with anger. Pointing at her nose, she exclaimed "Young lady, you have quite some nerve! You don't have money but you're here reasoning with me? Why are you buying things if you don't have any money?"

"The point is, you were even insisting on taking it with you. If this isn't stealing, what is? If you don't talk some sense now, I'll call the police. You better believe me!" The cashier placed her hands on her hips, completely agitated.

Mo Han looked at the items on the counter. All of them were food items: snacks, instant noodles, chips, and two bottles of water. Like someone uninvolved, he turned to the cashier and said, "One box of S-brand cigarettes please."