Chapter Three: No-Light Alley

After perhaps a hundred meters, a white lamp appeared ahead. He closed his left eye. His right eye saw nothing beneath the lamp. Yet through the lid of his closed eye, he sensed people passing. Voices whispered names into his ear: his teachers, former colleagues, his long-dead father. When the lamp went out, he opened his left eye. A row of frames now hung on the wall. Each belonged to one of the erased livestreamers. There were no portraits inside, only half-written biographies. “Who are you?” asked an old woman selling newspapers. She wore the face from the photograph before midnight, including the crescent scar. “Zhou Xing,” Shen said, using his father's former name. The old woman smiled. “Someone has already used that name.”