Chapter 97

"The eyewitness is called Xia Xiaonan, a girl, in the same class as Feng Bin. A handful of students left together a few days ago. We don't know why it was just the two of them together. Perhaps they parted ways with the others." Xiao Haiyang followed Luo Wenzhou like a point-and-speak device; if you didn't know something, you could point him and find out. "When Feng Bin was killed last night, the girl was hiding in the garbage bin nearby. The boy may have wanted to protect her."

As Luo Wenzhou strode towards the ambulance, he asked, "Since these students are still in the city, why haven't they been found after all this time?"

"They got unregistered phone cards from somewhere. They're hard to trace." Xiao Haiyang paused, then said, "Anyway, they're all old enough to have taken money with them when they ran away, and they left a letter. No one really thought anything could happen to them. The local police are always busy, more pressing things will sometimes take priority…"

Luo Wenzhou had also done low-level police work, so of course he understood what was going on. He waved his hand to interrupt Xiao Haiyang. "You mean these students both had their phones on them? When did the murder occur?"

Xiao Haiyang paused. "The medical examiner just had a look. The initial conjecture is that it was before midnight."

"Before midnight." Luo Wenzhou's steps paused. "If there's nothing wrong with the girl, why didn't she call the police afterwards?"

Xia Xiaonan, the only eyewitness in this frightening dismemberment case, had not only not called the police, she'd spent half the night squatting in the garbage bin, giving the sanitation worker who'd found her such a bad scare that he'd cracked open a fast-acting heart pill.

The fifteen-year-old girl was very slender, with a small melon seed-shaped face and delicate features, a beauty in embryo—though her current condition wasn't especially dignified. She was rancid and reeking, sitting numbly in a corner, tightly clutching a backpack in her arms, her face dreadfully white and her eyes pitch-black, like a mindless life-sized doll.

When Luo Wenzhou went over, he found that Lang Qiao and a few other female police officers were there, along with a clutch of medical personnel, standing in a circle around Xia Xiaonan. None of them dared to approach.

Luo Wenzhou appraised the strange atmosphere. "What's going on? What are you all watching?"

"Don't come over here, boss, the child may be in shock," Lang Qiao said quietly. "She doesn't react when you talk to her, and she screams if anyone comes close. Even that especially kindly-looking doctor over there can't get near her. We're waiting for the parents now to see whether we can force a tranquilizer on her."

Luo Wenzhou bent down, trying to meet the girl's line of sight from afar. Xia Xiaonan's gaze met his briefly and, seeming unable to focus, emptily brushed past.

"A good number of police stations with the assistance of the school and the parents have been searching for them for three or four days. All right, the police couldn't find them, and we let a bad guy get to them first." Lang Qiao whispered, "What do you call this?"

"Look through the security cameras nearby. This is a scenic district, there aren't many blindspots, and the killer couldn't have been invisible—aside from that, don't let the guys be idle. Send them to ask around the convenience stores, the supermarkets, the restaurants… A group of kids runs away, they can't do without eating or drinking. Someone must have seen them." At this point, Luo Wenzhou suddenly frowned slightly, pointing to the backpack in Xia Xiaonan's arms. "Er-Lang, look, what's that on her backpack? Is it filth or blood?"

Before Lang Qiao could focus and have a close look, there was a sudden sound of sharp braking behind her, the tires letting out a sharp squeal, as if opening up a rut in the ground.

All the assembled police and doctors shuddered.

Lang Qiao turned to look and said in a whisper, "Oh no, I was afraid of this."

An exquisitely dressed middle-aged woman threw open the car door and flew out before her feet had touched the ground. Like a reed whipped around by a strong wind, she swayed for a few steps, then without warning fell to the ground, getting blood over half her body. Her face terrified, she grabbed the police officer who'd rushed over to help her up, nearly pulling his pants off. "Where's my…my son? Where's my Binbin?"

"That seems to be the victim Feng Bin's mother," said Lang Qiao quietly.

"Tell the medical examiners to hurry up and get the body in a body bag." Luo Wenzhou pushed her lightly and said, "Don't let her see. Have her identify the face and then quickly take it away. She can look when we've finished investigating and the body's been sewn back together."

But it was too late.

Feng Bin's mother was a thin and frail middle-aged woman, without any flesh on her body, but when she saw the medical examiners go into the little alley, she instantly leapt up and with extraordinary strength pushed away her husband and the police officer trying to hold her back, needing to rush forward and see.

She took one look that tore apart the rest of her life.

Not making a sound, the woman sat down on the ground. The medical personnel who had been watching Xia Xiaonan had to rush up in a body to save her. She was carried away unconscious. As soon as she opened her eyes, Feng Bin's mother saw Xia Xiaonan curled up in a corner and shuddered violently, immediately reviving, crawling over to grab her. "Student, you know something, right? Do you know who killed my Binbin?"

With Feng Bin's mother pulling at her jacket, Xia Xiaonan's whole body spasmed, and she let out an inhuman-sounding howl.

For a time, the sounds of crying and wailing, consolation, questionings, and the teenaged girl's high-decibel, never-ending shriek bombarded everyone's ears, turning the scene into an unbearable mess.

Luo Wenzhou's head swelled at the noise, and he put his hands over his ears, turning to look at the dim and antiquated little alley—had the killer really been Lu Guosheng from fifteen years before? If it really had been him, how should they account for it to the parents? Tell them that a specter who'd roamed freely for fifteen years without the police having any hint of him had killed their son?

Why would Lu Guosheng suddenly show himself? Did he have no money? And why would he fix on a middle school student? Was his strength failing after fifteen years? Having no helpers with him, did he lack the confidence to attack an adult?

Also, the victim Feng Bin's body had been covered with his own school jacket, as if the killer had been worried he'd be cold. What did that indicate? Had the killer felt remorse and repentance after committing the crime? But if he really did still have this last remaining spark of human feeling, could he have dismembered an underage boy and smashed his eyes?

Why?

Feng Bin's father falteringly backed up to the side of the road. He was suddenly powerless to take care of his wife's feelings. He forced himself to maintain his calm. He had a businessman's sociable disposition; when Luo Wenzhou looked over at him, he even nodded and seemed to be trying to smile, but the attempt failed.

"I've been too busy at work. I might not see him even a couple of times a month, and I sent him to a boarding school, as if he were a burden I had no place for." His father said, "Was I wrong?"

Luo Wenzhou didn't answer.

As Feng Bin's father spoke, his spine folded up, and he squatted down, curling into a ball, slowly covering his face.

"Have Xia Xiaonan's parents been notified?" Luo Wenzhou pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to ask his subordinates, "Where are they? Why aren't they here yet? When can we get the girl to talk?"

On the road, which was slowly coming to life, the first hints of traffic showed up. Suddenly, a motor-powered wheelchair came upstream against the current, traveling towards them. The old man in the chair must have thought this means of transportation was too slow. He was stretching out his neck, looking up ahead like an elderly tortoise. The wheelchair went over a pothole and he overbalanced, falling out of the motor-powered wheelchair.

Tao Ran was nearby. Witnessing this small-scale traffic accident, he ran over to help the old man up. "My goodness, sir, why did you come over here riding that thing? Are you all right? The road is closed up ahead, you can't…"

The old man struggled, grabbing Tao Ran's wrist, saying indistinctly, "Houlan…"

Tao Ran stared. "What?"

The old man looked at him mournfully, his lips shaking.

"Xi…Xi Ao…nan!"

"Xia Xiaonan's parents are both dead. There's only her grandfather. He had a stroke a few years ago, with considerable after-effects. His mind is clear, but it's hard for him to move around, and no one can understand him clearly when he speaks." By the time they got back to the City Bureau from the crime scene, it was already noon. Having used an extraordinary degree of Chinese listening comprehension, Tao Ran had managed to communicate with Xia Xiaonan's grandfather. He sighed. "It's too pitiful. It would have been better if he'd just lost his mind altogether."

Luo Wenzhou asked, "How could she attend a boarding school with a family background like that?"

"Her family is very poor, and her grandfather's medical fees couldn't all be covered by insurance. Yufen was recruiting some good students for prestige, being very generous over school fees. And the old man is rather stubborn. He won't let anyone treat him like an invalid. He ordinarily does all the household chores himself, not letting anyone take care of him."

"The others are one thing," one of the criminal policemen next to him said, "but I really can't understand how a girl like Xia Xiaonan could run away—I just looked it up, and this girl's senior middle school entrance exam scores were in the top fifty for the whole city. As long as she kept up her grades, Yufen would give her 20,000 yuan in scholarship. And the teachers at the school say her temperament is introverted, but she's particularly sensible. She's never made anyone worry about her studies. Would she run away from school because she was lonely and bored? Could she be hard-hearted enough to cast aside her grandfather? If so, the girl really has no conscience."

Luo Wenzhou didn't respond. He pulled up the letter Feng Bin had left behind on his phone. This thing had gotten quite popular online. The news of Feng Bin's murder hadn't gotten out yet; people were still attacking the school system and the Chinese style of parenting.

Luo Wenzhou thought about it, then sent Fei Du a link to the letter. When he'd sent it, someone put their head in at the door. "Captain Luo, Feng Bin and Xia Xiaonan's homeroom teacher is here!"

Fei Du's phone buzzed quietly, notifying him that he had a new message. His phone was lying under something, and he didn't hear it at first.

Assistant Miao passed over a pen for him to sign with and looked down at Luo Yiguo, arrogantly strutting around next to her. She really wanted to play with the cat while Fei Du was reading the document, so she asked, "President Fei, does the kitty scratch?"

Fei Du said, "Yes."

Assistant Miao: "…"

She quietly drew back her outstretched hand and looked all around the simply-furnished, modern-styled apartment. "Are you…living here now?"

Fei Du gently pushed at his glasses, looking up at her.

"Oh…" Assistant Miao hesitated, then very tactfully said, "It feels very different from your office. It doesn't seem to be the same style."

Fei Du smiled noncommittally. Compared to his office, the overwhelming majority of human residences on earth were as crude and impoverished as a public toilet, but that wasn't his style at all. Just then, he came upon a framework agreement. Fei Du skimmed it; there was nothing wrong with the contents, but there was a particular scent on the pages. He paused, then picked it up and smelled it—mint, sweet basil leaves…and a trace of berry scent mixed in.

Fei Du raised his eyelids and looked at Assistant Miao. Assistant Miao gave him a wry smile. President Fei's indiscriminate appreciation for beauty was no secret; even Zhang Donglai knew that he was partial towards externally graceful and reserved but internally stimulating people and things. Often people would use this knowledge to bad ends.

Fei Du put down the contract, got out a moist towelette, and wiped his hands. "Since when has our company been so particular that even our printer paper needs to be specially made? What's our special relationship with the Saudi royal family?"

Assistant Miao quietly explained, "It's President Su's new assistant."

"Didn't President Su also invite me to dinner?" Fei Du laughed silently, but his expression was rather cold. "Lao Su worked for my father for over a decade, so he thinks he's an elder statesman now and can act as prince-regent."

Assistant Miao didn't dare to respond—after Fei Du had come to power, nearly all of old President Fei's trusted aides had been dispersed. The better ones had been transferred elsewhere to enjoy their retirement, the worst ones had been sent directly to eat prison food on the strength of some wrongdoing, and there were others who had voluntarily resigned for all kinds of unexpected reasons. Now Su Cheng was the only elder statesman remaining, and he was the one with the most mediocre natural endowments.

"Though I like his kind of self-important idiot—when you get back, tell him that I have no time. At his age, he should wipe his own ass clean before trying anything else. Showing off these vulgar tactics is beneath his dignity. If someone wants to see me, they can come see me themselves. I don't especially like these roundabout methods." At this point, Fei Du's tone changed, and he blinked at Assistant Miao, his voice turning mild. "Why don't you guys block these things for me? Aren't I your great leader? What, I haven't been back in so long, you all don't love me anymore?"

Assistant Miao had long been accustomed to this inconstancy of his, suddenly turning hostile while also seeming to be joking. Without turning a hair, she asked curiously, "Who is it that wants President Su to recommend them to you and is making him do it in such an indirect way?"

"Some insignificant people." Fei Du quickly finished signing the remaining documents and took Assistant Miao to the door. Before she left, he remembered something, saying, "Oh, right, haven't food prices risen lately? Tell HR to raise everyone's standard lunch stipend by thirty percent. You can only have the energy to work if you eat well."

The boss wanted to hand out money! Assistant Miao had absolutely no objection to this. She gave a crisp affirmative; even her footsteps became more lively. "President Fei, how do you know that food prices have risen?"

Because he'd seen a price tag while chopping vegetables and asked a superfluous question, receiving a harangue from a certain person about "not knowing the bitterness of the mortal world."

Fei Du didn't answer, using the tip of his foot to push Luo Yiguo back into the room. Smiling brightly, he shook hands with Assistant Miao and bid her farewell.

Fei Du opened the window to disperse the lingering smell of perfume.

Those people were too cautious. All these years, they'd never shown a trace of themselves before him. But during the Zhou Clan case, they'd been forced to break off their arm for survival, losing Zheng Kaifeng and Zhou Junmao, two of their major bankrollers. Now they must be struggling, needing urgently to dig up a new source of capital.

It seemed that his conduct over the last few years, his confusing reputation, his externally lax but internally strict methods, his displays of wanting to pull out Fei Chengyu's respirator at the seaside sanatorium, and his abandoning his enormous company and exhausting his resources to get involved in the new iteration of the Picture Album Project…all of this had finally laid the slow groundwork, forcing those people to start attempting to get in touch with him.

Although…

Fei Du pulled his phone out from under the dining table, planning to open the reading program's app—there was another force faintly discernible in all this; it even seemed to have unintentionally helped him. He'd tried again and again to investigate it, without result; who could it be?

Just then, he saw the link and the attached message that Luo Wenzhou had sent him.

Luo Wenzhou said: "There's something wrong with this letter. Can you take a look at it for me?"

There was a forty-something female teacher accompanied by a male student in the City Bureau's reception room, chatting with the officer responsible for receiving visitors. These were Feng Bin's homeroom teacher and class monitor.

Luo Wenzhou listened from the door for a while, glancing at the student's clothes. The boy had his school jacket hanging over the crook of his arm. Standing to one side, he seemed nothing like his awkwardly developing downy-headed peers. Seeing Luo Wenzhou at the door, he gave him an urbane smile, and Luo Wenzhou somehow thought of the teenage Fei Du. Looking closer, he found that the brand of the student's shirt was particularly familiar—he'd seen more than one of these when he was arranging the wardrobe for Fei Du. He had no idea how the name of the brand was meant to be read.

A little whelp wearing such an expensive piece of clothing?

Luo Wenzhou frowned; Yufen Middle School really was a rich kids' club.

"Boss." Lang Qiao quickly walked over and quietly said into his ear, "The camera at the intersection caught the killer."

Luo Wenzhou turned his head at once.

"I didn't know, so I asked some elders to have a look. It seems that…it really was that Lu Guosheng."

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