Extra 3

Since the present society's criminal penalties didn't include a provision for "whipping the corpse," however steeped in iniquity Fei Chengyu had been in life, he had now turned to ashes and naturally avoided having his criminal responsibility investigated.

But the illegal gains he'd made while alive still had to be dealt with.

Fortunately, Fei Du had prepared for this long ago; he peeled off what he ought to have peeled off and pled ignorance where he ought to have pled ignorance. After all, in his original plan, he hadn't allotted himself a good outcome, so no matter what, he'd had to prepare an escape route for the people working for him. Though now he himself had to manage that "escape route."

In short, he could no longer present himself as that idle and spendthrift "useless son of the wealthy" from before. While Fei Du himself could make do with a mouthful of thin porridge to live on, he still had to support a big crowd of people and was forced to walk the road of a president occupied with numerous affairs, going to work every day.

Luo Wenzhou had found him a parking spot in the little estate where parking spots were scarce—there was a problem with the design of this parking spot; ordinary people couldn't park there. A resident who'd bought a second-hand apartment only found out about being duped after moving in and had very happily passed it on to Luo Wenzhou at a low price, and President Fei's skills, practiced racing cars in mountainous regions, finally had ample scope.

On that subject, those days of painting the town, racing cars and raising hell, seemed to have belonged to another lifetime, but being "busy" in itself absolutely wasn't painful, as long as you knew what you were busy about.

Every evening, Fei Du could take his laptop and sit on the steps leading down to the basement and work overtime. That was his fixed location; he had every kind of pillow and cushion, and a small cup holder. At his right hand he had a bowl of rock crystal pear water, at his left he had a Luo Yiguo—Luo Yiguo kept close to his computer's heating vent, enjoying the warmth, leaning on its front paws with its eyes closed—and when he'd been staring at the screen too long, Fei Du could also lift his head and have a look at a beautiful man to rest his eyes.

Especially as the above-mentioned beautiful man, dripping with sweat, was aware that he was handsome and wore only a pair of loose exercise pants.

Apart from odds and ends and the old bicycle, Luo Wenzhou's basement also had a complete set of home body-building apparatus, a treadmill, a sandbag, weights…everything necessary.

Still driven by inertia, he hopped off the treadmill belt, picked up a towel, wiped the glistening sweat on his body, and strolled over to Fei Du as though exhibiting his clearly outlined pecs and abs. "You sit there every day as an outside observer. Didn't that doctor last time say you could do appropriate exercise?"

Fei Du hit the last punctuation mark, sent his e-mail, and very perfunctorily said, "Wait until I get a gym card."

Luo Wenzhou picked up the half a bowl pear water he hadn't finished drinking and drank two mouthfuls. Then he bared a mouthful of white teeth at Fei Du. "What gym card? Isn't there enough stuff on display at home? Anyway, can a personal trainer provide the thorough 'personal service' that I can?"

Fei Du looked up at the "trainer" attempting to peddle his own body, then looked at the home gym in front of him. Looking reluctant, he pointed. "Look, the middle of the night, a little dark room where you can't see the light of day, running in place on a whatever-it-is treadmill rotating at a uniform speed—don't you think it's like a hamster ball?"

Luo Wenzhou: "…"

Owing to his impertinent remarks, President Fei was carried off in the big hamster's mouth on the spot.

Luo Yiguo stood up and opened its eyes wide in surprise. Then it decided it wouldn't necessarily be able to defeat the rodent demon and could only chase a couple of circles after its own tail in vexation, rolling up into a cowardly ball and doing nothing to help.

The next day, Fei Du was woken up by the slight sound of Luo Wenzhou's belt buckle. For a moment he thought he'd overslept and abruptly sat up…and fell back again as his waist went weak.

Luo Wenzhou gathered him up along with the quilt, kissing his hair. He quietly said, "It's not time for you to get up yet. Go back to sleep."

Fei Du found that Luo Wenzhou was wearing his uniform today. They weren't normally required to wear uniform; it seemed he was going to take part in some special activity today.

Luo Wenzhou said, "You're still looking. Close your eyes."

Fei Du said, "Mr. Policeman, with your looks, if you were willing to change professions and come work for us, you could even sleep till noon every day."

Luo Wenzhou straightened his collar and said in astonishment, "Undermining Director Lu in broad daylight? You have prospects, young man—although, do you know that Director Lu has blacklisted you?"

Fei Du: "…"

"In fact, he didn't know how to blacklist. He came downstairs on purpose to find Tao Ran and ask him how, and when he'd asked he put it into practice on you. A middle-aged man past his fifth decade, thirty years behind the times, learning a new technical skill for your sake. Darling, isn't it glorious?"

Starting from when Fei Du had taken a nearly fatal risk in the arrest of Zhang Chunling and Fan Siyuan, Director Lu had determined that he was an unreliable young person. Later he'd discovered that when the above-mentioned young person posted Moments, they were all of Luo Wenzhou and their big-eyed, no-necked fat cat; it was extremely dull.

A few days ago there had for once been a post with slightly longer content. The subject was "The More Things Change, the More They Remain the Same." Director Lu had thought that President Fei was delivering some enlightening remarks about the fast-changing market-oriented economy; he hadn't expected that when he went to read it, he'd find that it was a summary of "deceit" written by the poster himself, including everything from basic principles to methodology, coherent and cogent. Director Lu had at once remembered his first-hand experience being duped by him and anger had instantly risen in his heart; he'd locked his screen, putting it out of sight and out of mind.

"Truly regrettable," Fei Du said dryly.

"It is! The venerable old fellow won't get to see the beautiful man living under the camera lens anymore, so I'll have to trouble myself to personally appear in front of him a few more times." Luo Wenzhou had unlocked his phone to show him; then he looked up at his watch and quickly restrained his grin. "No good, I really have to go."

Fei Du felt around the bedside and found his pajamas rolled into a ball, pulled them out, and draped them over himself. "Why so early today?"

Luo Wenzhou became earnest, straightening his clothes in the mirror. "It's the anniversary of Gu Zhao's death today. He's going to be formally granted the status of martyr, as well as Xiao Wu. There's a ceremony."

Fei Du stared.

The ceremony took place where Gu Zhao was buried.

This graveyard was in a remote location, and its area wasn't large; it seemed to have been built during a period when it was popular to speculate on graves.

For the sake of making a little more money, the spaces between the grave pits were very narrow, like a dovecote stuck into the ground. Between two rows of gravestones, there was only about a meter of space, just about enough to place two wreaths. As soon as there were a few too many visitors, the place became hard-up.

You couldn't live beside too many people in life, but in death you could sleep in lively company.

Gu Zhao had been buried in this hard-up "dovecote."

When the sun had just risen, the gates of the obscure little graveyard were parked full of cars.

This slow-coming ceremony was very solemn. Three rows to either side of the gravestone were full of people standing, and outside of that was an unending stream of media rushing over. The cameras that came late couldn't even squeeze in.

Director Lu was reciting a memorial speech written ahead of time.

Xiao Haiyang, absent-mindedly hugging a bouquet, was standing to one side, damp plant nutrients staining one of his hands.

Luo Wenzhou poked him with his elbow. "Director Lu is almost finished reciting. When he's finished, you go up and present the bouquet. Don't stand there sleepwalking, Yan City Satellite TV has their camera on you."

Xiao Haiyang came back to himself and glanced out of the corner of his eye, indeed seeing a camera aimed at him. The camera person noticed his gaze and smiled at him from afar, making Xiao Haiyang suddenly remember a past event.

This was when he was little and his school had arranged a special performance in gratitude at a military camp, choosing a group of roly-poly little kids to form a "hundred-person" chorus, with a local TV station following to report on it. They were supposed to be on the evening news. Xiao Haiyang had managed to get chosen by some dumb luck. Because he was short for his age, he'd been placed in the first row in a corner.

That was Xiao Haiyang's first time standing in front of a camera lens. Though he was only one percent of the chorus, playing the smallest role possible, for the not yet so cynical little boy, "being on TV" was still very much worth looking forward to.

He specially asked the teacher what day the news would be broadcast, specially ran to Gu Zhao's home for the evening news that day and pulled him over so they could wait to watch together. But very sadly, the whole broadcast of the performance was less than a minute long, and the great "hundred-person chorus" only merited one shot. Just as the camera was about to pan over to him standing in the corner, the shot was cut off.

He'd been looking forward to "being on TV" for so long, and there wasn't even a hint of him; Xiao Haiyang was extremely disappointed, feeling more wronged the more he thought about it. He crouched in Gu Zhao's living room, wailing.

Gu Zhao had to rush to console him. He said, "Look, you're only six and a half, and you were almost on TV. When you're seven and a half, you may be standing in the center of the shot. You're doing much better than me. I'm so old, and I still haven't been on TV. I figure I never will…"

Gu Zhao likely hadn't expected that there would come a day when his memorial photograph would appear in the center of a shot along with Xiao Haiyang.

Once past the boundary between life and death, the glory and disgrace of the mortal world are all beyond reach.

Director Lu finished reading the memorial speech, and Xiao Haiyang stepped up to deliver the bouquet according to the prescribed order. Then everyone gave a salute, and there was a wave of shutter sounds, as though drawing a period at the end of the tangled and complicated major case. Only Xiao Wu's mom was standing in the crowd silently weeping. She truly couldn't control herself and tightly covered her mouth…because she was afraid she would let out an inappropriate wail and disturb the sacred solemnity of the moment.

"There's no one to accept Uncle Gu's pension," Xiao Haiyang said almost inaudibly, watching the departing crowd. "He has no relatives."

Luo Wenzhou's steps paused. He saw that Xiao Haiyang was caving in like a human ballon with a hole in it; he didn't seem to feel especially happy but was instead at a loss.

Xiao Haiyang's cerebellum was naturally a little underdeveloped; he was good material for sitting and staring at a book. When he'd been little, his science grades had been average, but his liberal arts grades had been outstanding. His teachers had seen that his temper was foul enough to have the makings of a martial arts expert and had thought that he could become the next generation's social science talent; no one had expected him to join the police. To be a criminal police officer, apart from taking the civil service examination, of course you couldn't be a loser who got out of breath chasing after the bus. Thinking back on it, Xiao Haiyang thought that his luck in being able to make it all the way to the City Bureau couldn't be explained with simple "mysticism"; it was as if he had been destined to be able to exonerate Gu Zhao of the gross injustice done to him, and he had been pushed and pulled into position, coming to this ending.

For over a decade, Xiao Haiyang had wanted to be a police officer, to investigate the old case, to clear away someone's unjust treatment; he'd never thought of he was going to do when the investigation was over. Sometimes, for a person who was still alive, an ending wasn't the final absolution from all problems; it could only wake a person from his tangled nightmares and give him the possibility of looking ahead.

Luo Wenzhou said, "Do you want to keep going?"

Xiao Haiyang looked at him blankly.

Luo Wenzhou asked, "Do you have any other plans?"

Xiao Haiyang silently shook his head.

"Captain Luo." Lang Qiao ran over, holding up a phone. "That cross-province swindling gang's den has been found. Do we go catch them?"

Before Luo Wenzhou could speak, Xiao Haiyang, in well-practiced fashion, had already cleared away his previous confusion. "Wait, Xiao Qiao-jie, I suspect they have more than one stronghold!"

Luo Wenzhou beckoned to him. "Walk and talk."

As he followed Luo Wenzhou's footsteps, Xiao Haiyang launched his rapid-fire mouth, words pouring out: "I've been tracing the patterns of their offenses and their methods of behavior since last month, and I've found…"

Walking ahead, looking ahead, even though the road ahead was a blank, even though you could only rely on force of habit to keep walking ahead—

One day, you would find direction in your own endless steps.

It just took a little patience.