Chapter 73

Dong Xiaoqing was a young girl. Who knew where she got so much strength? She tugged and yanked fiercely, pulling the knife out of Zhou Huaixin.

Her eyes were red. She looked deranged. Flailing the bloody knife, like a yaksha in human form, she charged at the stunned crowd.

The tightly-packed crowd competed to out-scream each other. Aside from a couple of warriors who ducked into corners to recklessly take pictures, most of the people didn't want to lose their lives over a job. They pushed and shoved, scattering in all directions, people going every which way, becoming a perfect human barrier, blocking the Zhou family's baffled bodyguards.

Luo Wenzhou's adrenaline was boiling, nearly steaming out of the top of his head. He didn't think at all, only instantly gave chase. After he'd run a dozen meters, his lagging consciousness finally caught up with his swift legs, and he remembered Fei Du. He turned back to look.

Exceeding Luo Wenzhou's expectations, Fei Du hadn't fainted and hadn't thrown up. He was only somewhat stiffly standing next to Zhou Huaixin. The expression in his eyes, without his glasses to block them, was only a little vague. He was still clear-headed. He stood facing Luo Wenzhou in profile, gaze deliberately avoiding the surrounding blood. He glimpsed Luo Wenzhou out of the corner of his eye and even calmly waved at him.

For a moment, Fei Du's fear of blood didn't seem very grave.

Luo Wenzhou thought that something was off but he didn't have any time to think carefully. Dong Xiaoqing had already passed through the crowd and was about to escape from Heng'ai Hospital. Luo Wenzhou roughly assessed her direction, avoided the crowd by pressing close to the wall, and stepped over the planters at the side of the road, giving chase like a martial artist in a film.

From Dong Xiaoqing's murderous attack to her smooth escape, everything had happened too fast.

The inside of Fei Du's head buzzed. The blood spreading from Zhou Huaixin's underbelly seemed to be a heavy hammer, banging on his chest, banging so hard his soul was jolting inside his flimsy body.

Though it was a little inconvenient to get sick at blood, in fact there weren't many opportunities to see blood in daily life. Occasionally he would get a small cut, feel nauseated for a while, and then it would pass.

Fei Du didn't know how long it had been since he had been directly faced with a scene like this. His ears roared, and his limbs nearly lost control, his fingertips convulsing as if in reflex. All his muscles and bones pulled taut in an instant, making him stay upright and seem clear-headed, while in fact his consciousness was blurred.

Fei Du clenched his fists tightly, joints cracking. He forced his gaze away and, amidst the irregular lurching of his heart, went towards Zhou Huaijin in big steps.

The fallen wheelchair lay on one of Zhou Huaijin's legs. He was sitting numbly and helplessly on the ground. The next instant, he was lifted by his collar.

"It's likely his internal organs have been injured. Abdominal bleeding is very dangerous," Fei Du said to him, voice cold and rushed. "Do you want him to live? If you do, hurry up and call your hospital's best first-aid personnel out here. President Zhou, I know you aren't lame, stand up!"

Zhou Huaijin tottered, then stood firm. He stared at Fei Du in alarm for two seconds. Then he seemed to wake from a dream. He grabbed his phone.

Zhou Huaixin was instinctively flopping on the ground like a gutted fish. He was surrounded by a crowd of people, but none of them dared to rashly touch him. The more he struggled, the more blood there was. Fei Du heard Zhou Huaijin babbling to get people over, then saw him toss the phone aside and throw himself at Zhou Huaixin, words pouring messily out of his mouth, useless phrases like "look at me," and "it's all right." Some emotion made Fei Du raise his sweat-drenched eyelashes and meet Zhou Huaixin's gaze.

Zhou Huaixin's eyes were growing dimmer and dimmer, his gaze more and more unfocused. In Fei Du's eyes, he underwent a bizarre change—he became a pile of unfamiliar organic waste.

Fei Du clearly felt that he was split into two parts. Half of him was nauseated and dizzy because of the blood ceaselessly pouring out of Zhou Huaixin's wound, while the other half, like an animal that had strayed from the pack, was watching Zhou Huaixin's eyes, unable to connect this dying person to the Zhou Huaixin he knew. Numb among the others' lamentations of anxiety and pain, he instinctively tried to fit in, futilely searching for what the ordinary person should theoretically feel.

But however he searched, it wasn't there.

"Everyone fears death, but actually what they fear is only the unknown. Death itself isn't painful at all. There's even pleasure in it. You must have personally experienced it.

"Have you noticed the eyes of those animals as they approach death? That's the expression of having found the truth—the truth is, 'life' is an illusion manufactured by your nervous system. It's a false self-awareness.

"A person's consciousness is like flowing water, changing incessantly, and death is the last direction it flows in. Unless you can understand or control the whole process of certain changes in your consciousness, your life doesn't belong to you. Things that don't belong to you deviate from your perception every time they change. Every moment is death. The only thing that doesn't change is this sack of skin made of carbohydrates. If you feel an emotional connection to the sack of skin, isn't it like anthropomorphizing the pork on your plate? It's a sort of delusional disorder."

The thick scent of blood poured into Fei Du's nasal cavity, and all of his organs roiled. The first-aid personnel, foreheads covered in sweat, charged out of Heng'ai Hospital, surrounded Zhou Huaixin, and began emergency treatment. After an interval they took him away as quick as the wind. Fei Du followed the whole way to the emergency room. Then at last he could stand it no longer. He abandoned Zhou Huaijin and turned into a restroom.

Dong Xiaoqing had murderously attacked a person in front of a crowd. She was covered in blood. Her hair tie had broken, and her hair, meticulously styled into large curls, hung loose behind her. The perfectly set hair bobbed up and down in the wind, from time to time tangling on the horrifying weapon in her hand.

"Dong Xiaoqing!" Relying on his height and long legs, Luo Wenzhou was constantly closing the distance between himself and Dong Xiaoqing and had already run out onto the road after her. "Stop! Do you really think you can run!"

Perhaps Dong Xiaoqing was already worn out. Her steps had slowed. Hearing him, she suddenly stopped. She turned back and looked at Luo Wenzhou, raising the knife towards him.

Luo Wenzhou wasn't afraid of her wielding the knife and stabbing him. From his point of view, there wouldn't be anything frightening about ten knife-wielding Dong Xiaoqings. But he really had no ideas as to the young lady's motive and was afraid that in her unstable mental state she would kill herself. He quickly stopped a few steps away from her.

"Calm down." Luo Wenzhou pressed his hands down, looking at Dong Xiaoqing with a gaze that was as steady and gentle as possible. Trying to stabilize her, he spouted some nonsense on the spot. "Listen to me, young lady, the person you stabbed just now didn't die, the consequences won't be grave. Don't be afraid. It's all right."

Dong Xiaoqing was still under psychological stress, but she was starting to come around. Her hand holding the knife was shaking, whether out of fear or regret that she hadn't stabbed Zhou Huaixin a second time.

"I'm a police officer," Luo Wenzhou said in a deep voice, getting out his ID and holding it up. "If there's anything you need, you can tell me."

Dong Xiaoqing backed up a step. Her gaze finally focused on Luo Wenzhou. A moment later, the mania on her twisted, bloody face gradually calmed, and only deep-rooted grief and indignation were left behind. The rims of her eyes reddened. She was like a mute; the whole world was full of people who couldn't hear her voice, and when she happened to encounter an ear that deigned to inquire into her circumstances, she didn't know where to start.

Luo Wenzhou carefully tried getting a step closer. "Relax. Don't keep holding up that knife. Isn't it heavy? It's very dangerous."

"I…" At his words, Dong Xiaoqing subconsciously lowered the point of the knife a little and incoherently said, "My papa, he…"

Luo Wenzhou kept an eye on the knife in her hand, cautiously planning how he would wrest it away from her. As he calmly approached Dong Xiaoqing, he continued speaking. "Your dad was wronged. We all know that. In the future, we'll restore his good name."

He didn't expect that Dong Xiaoqing's tears would come spilling down when she heard these words. "My papa… My dad wasn't wronged."

Luo Wenzhou stared. "What did you say?"

"He's one of those people, too. They…"

Just then, a fierce wind swept by. With no warning at all, a little sedan appeared out of nowhere and accelerated after turning a corner, running right into Dong Xiaoqing. There was no way Luo Wenzhou could have reacted. Dong Xiaoqing brushed past him as she flew up; the words had hardly had time to leave her throat.

The shards of the front windshield were like raindrops blown by a gale, spraying right in Luo Wenzhou's face, and the responsible car, with no hesitation, once again accelerated, flooring the gas pedal, charging right towards Luo Wenzhou. Luo Wenzhou used what must have been primordial force to dodge, but one of the car's side mirrors still swiped him. The side mirror broke off on the spot. Ignoring the pain, he instinctively tensed his muscles and shielded his head, taking the opportunity to roll towards a siding far from the main road.

The perpetrator was extremely experienced indeed. Knowing his risk would increase with every second he lingered, he didn't waste time turning around and renewing his attack. He ran into Luo Wenzhou in passing, saw he hadn't killed him, then decisively gave up.

The road at Heng'ai Hospital's back door was rather desolate, and this wasn't rush hour. The road was empty. The demented car with its shattered windshield whistled past, leaving no trace!

Half of Luo Wenzhou's body had been numbed by the collision. It was a good while before he struggled to climb to his feet. Only then did the others successively react and rush over. As he went towards Dong Xiaoqing, he contacted the City Bureau's office. "Nanshan Road at Heng'ai Hospital's back entrance, a white sedan, model XX, license plate Yan CXXXXX, send out a notice to the whole city… No, the whole county, the whole country. Even if he's driven into the Pacific Ocean, cast an anchor and haul him back!"

The shape of Dong Xiaoqing's head had changed. One shoe had flown directly across the street. Her bare hands and feet were covered in dirt. She was badly mangled; she couldn't have been more dead.

"Fucking asshole." Luo Wenzhou couldn't resist uttering a curse. His brow ridge itched, and he went to rub it, his hand coming away covered in blood—he'd been cut by the spraying glass.

Luo Wenzhou took a few deep, violent breaths. "What's going on with Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang? Did they get to Dong Xiaoqing's house?"

Lang Qiao had first unquestioningly carried out his orders. Now she finally had a chance to speak. "I was just about to report to you, Deputy Tao just called saying there was no one at Dong Xiaoqing's house, and it was on fire… Boss, what's going on here? Also, why did you want a notice on that car?"

Luo Wenzhou squeezed his eyes shut.

The people who had just been frightened into scattering all over by Dong Xiaoqing's attack gathered together once again. They didn't dare to approach, only stood at both sides of the road, pointing and gesturing.

Dong Xiaoqing had fallen in broad daylight.

The girl's temper had been fierce, and she had been unyielding. On the one hand, she'd claimed to be prepared to ruin her family compensating the victims; on the other hand, she had incessantly defended her father's reputation.

So why would she run the desperate risk of assassinating Zhou Huaijin?

And why would she contact Xiao Haiyang beforehand?

What had she wanted to do? What had she wanted to give Xiao Haiyang?

And then there was what she'd said just before her death: "He's one of those people, too."

Who were those people?

Who had been so bold as to commit murder right in front of a criminal policeman?

For a time Luo Wenzhou couldn't quite catch his breath.

Meanwhile, in Heng'ai Hospital, Fei Du had nearly vomited up his guts. His hands shook as he rinsed his mouth.

Fei Du irritably unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt and splashed cold water onto his face, pushing his wet hair back. He put two breath mints in his mouth. When the mints had completely dissolved, he finally got up the strength to walk upright. Fei Du glanced apathetically at his white-faced self in the mirror and stuck his incessantly trembling hands into his pockets.

Zhou Huaijin was bent over, curled up on a hospital bench, nervily wringing his blood-soaked hands. All the veins in his neck were standing out. Suddenly, a wet paper towel descended from the heavens. Zhou Huaijin looked up numbly. He saw that Fei Du had walked up to him, but he wasn't looking at him, only at the operating room light.

"Go ahead and wipe them off." Fei Du spoke first. "I think President Zhou isn't very familiar with me, but I've occasionally gone out partying with Huaixin."

Zhou Huaijin pulled himself together, forcing himself to answer. "I know. Mr. Fei, I've looked forward to…"

"I'm the one who's looked forward to meeting you," Fei Du interrupted. "Zhou Huaixin can't get off the subject of his brother for three sentences at a time. Every time he brings up President Zhou, he sounds like an unweaned baby. I've heard so much about you my ears are going to grow callouses."

Zhou Huaijin took a deep breath, his hands lacing together tightly.

Just then, for some reason, a few medical workers hastily ran past them. Their movements startled Zhou Huaijin. He stood up fearfully and stared towards the operating room for an age. As if he could neither sit nor stand still, he wandered back and forth where he was. The refined mask that usually hid his face had vanished entirely. His hair was a mess, his hands involuntarily pressed together, as if begging the mercy of some unknown god. He whispered in self-consolation, "It's all right, it's all right… It'll definitely be all right."

"When such a long knife goes in and out, it's very unlikely to be all right," Fei Du heartlessly interrupted him again. "President Zhou, while it's said that life and death are ruled by fate, he still did it for you."

Zhou Huaijin's shoulders fell feebly. "I know, I just…"

"I'm not talking about him getting in front of the knife for you," Fei Du said somewhat aggressively. "President Zhou, you know what I mean. I'm talking about the whole course of this thing in its entirety.—Do you believe there will be retribution for those who fool the whole world? If you keep on fooling, it's possible that that bad luck will become reality."

Zhou Huaijin shook.

"Do you want to start with how you planned your own kidnapping?" Fei Du said.

A few black-clothed expressionless bodyguards drew close, tensely circling Fei Du.

There was a faint satirical smile at the corners of Fei Du's pale lips; he entirely disregarded these shoddy goods—if there'd been any use to them, Zhou Huaixin's life wouldn't be hanging by a thread in the emergency room.

After a good while, Zhou Huaijin waved a hand and spoke quietly. "You're right. All of you can scatter. Get out," Zhou Huaijin said to the bodyguards. "Let me talk to Mr. Fei."

Fei Du walked over to a vending machine and bought two bottles of water. He passed one to Zhou Huaijin.

"I found the people." Zhou Huaijin drank half the bottle in one gulp, took a deep breath, then spoke without beginning or end. "Including using Hengda for support. That was also my choice."

"Weren't you afraid the police would get there late and your fake drowning in the river would turn into a real one?"

"There were people looking on from the sidelines. If anything had gone wrong, they would have rescued me. The people we found were all locals, familiar with the roads. It wouldn't have been easy for the police to catch them—and even if they did catch them, there was no need to worry. I could just have given evidence that they were kind-hearted passersby."

That really was very convenient.

Fei Du nodded. "You're hardly ever in the country, so you wouldn't be very familiar with the terrain. I suppose it was Hu Zhenyu who got you in touch with the kidnappers? Why did you choose the Baisha area?"

"I came up with the plan and made the decisions. The others were only following my orders. There's no need to drag in others." Zhou Huaijin paused, then forced himself to nod. "I chose Baisha first because it was on the road from the airport, and second because the person helping me was a local. Also, we didn't have any obvious connections to Baisha. We were unlikely to be suspected."

Fei Du said, "The person helping you?"

"Just a friend I did a little favor for once." Zhou Huaijin shook his head. "Nothing to do with this thing.

"I… When I suddenly heard the news about his death, I felt that there was an opportunity," Zhou Huaijin said hoarsely. "I'm only a bright and shiny mascot in the conglomerate. Zhou Junmao had covered everything up. Even though he was dead, there was still his henchman Zheng Kaifeng. I wouldn't get my chance to speak."

Fei Du said, "I'd have thought that from the standpoint of identity and experience, President Zhou would be better placed than Yang Bo."

"Identity?" Zhou Huaijin laughed bitterly. "What identity? I'm only a fig leaf."

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