Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Ominous Joy (36)

The search warrant had already been issued; police cars headed toward Zhou Ping Town. On the way, Sui Xing said, “I still can’t figure it out. Liang Lanjun does fit the profile, but isn’t the point about Liu Xiang’s suicide too far-fetched? This girl was just someone he and Zhao Yue randomly chose to sponsor. There wasn’t much emotion between them. How could Liu Xiang’s suicide become the last straw? Besides, Liu Xiang’s death was because of Moonrise Villa.”

Hai Shu sat in the back seat with her eyes closed. “You’re right—the point about Liu Xiang is far-fetched. But up to now, we still haven’t fully understood Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue. The reason we’re going to Zhou Ping Town this time is precisely to clarify their connection to the murder cases.”

Sui Xing turned back, hand braced on the seatback. “Captain Hai.”

“Hm?”

“You have an association in mind, but you didn’t want to say it in the meeting.”

Hai Shu opened her eyes. Sui Xing continued, “Go ahead and say it now. If I’m wrong, just pretend I didn’t hear.”

Hai Shu gave a small laugh. “It’s not that I didn’t want to say it in the meeting. Compared to the profile, this later idea is even more speculative—hard to stand on solid ground. Saying it might affect everyone’s thinking.”

Sui Xing: “I’m not afraid of being influenced.”

Hai Shu: “Liu Xiang died because of Moonrise Villa—this is the truth we’ve only just uncovered. Others don’t know, and Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue couldn’t possibly know either. Under normal circumstances, sponsoring a poor student is an act of goodwill toward them. How much emotion is invested? Not necessarily much. But the situation with Liang and Zhao is different. They aren’t wealthy. Sponsoring a girl like Liu Xiang carries an element of transference.”

Sui Xing said, “They saw their past selves in Liu Xiang. Their past selves ‘died’ at the hands of a rich kid’s games. They hoped Liu Xiang could have a smooth path and fulfill the life ideals that were cut short for them?”

Hai Shu nodded. “So even though they didn’t meet often, they poured a great deal of emotion into Liu Xiang. Their sponsorship wasn’t without expectation of return—it came with very high demands for return, but not material. It was on a spiritual level. In other words, they were nurturing Liu Xiang. And because of this mindset, they didn’t want others to know they were sponsoring a girl. Liu Xiang’s sister mentioned it, right? Liu Xiang wanted to visit them, but they refused. Then, after Liu Xiang was admitted to university, they personally went to see her.”

Sui Xing stared ahead, thinking. “Then after Liu Xiang’s suicide, what should their real reaction have been?”

“They would feel their own life had been broken again,” Hai Shu said. “It was suicide, not an accident. Why would a university student with such bright prospects suddenly kill herself? It’s too easy to associate with something bad happening to her. Liu Xiang’s sister thought she suffered unfair treatment from teachers and classmates. Then what about Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue?”

Sui Xing slapped the leather seat. “They would definitely recall what happened to themselves back then and project it onto Liu Xiang!”

Hai Shu said, “Almost, but just that alone—they wouldn’t necessarily target Xue Ninglin and the others. They didn’t put themselves in Liu Xiang’s place. Instead, because of something, they felt Liu Xiang’s death was related to homosexual harassment.”

Sui Xing said, “But that doesn’t add up. They didn’t have much contact with Liu Xiang.”

Hai Shu looked at Sui Xing. “Actually, we overlooked one issue in the early investigation. Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue had plenty of opportunities to come to the city.”

Sui Xing’s hand gripping the seatback suddenly tightened. “They…”

“Glass factory deliveries to the city are no longer contracted out to individual drivers like in Wan Yong’s time. They’re handled by factory transport workers, and clerks and inspectors often need to accompany them,” Hai Shu said. “This job is relatively easy with a lot of free time. During their spare time, could they have gone to see Liu Xiang?”

Sui Xing said, “Could they have seen something happen between Liu Xiang and Xue Ninglin?”

Hai Shu said, “It’s just a guess. Xue Ninglin had strong possessive desire toward Huang Yiya. That time at the book café might not have been Xue Ninglin’s only approach to Liu Xiang. Perhaps another meeting between her and Liu Xiang was witnessed by Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue who happened to be there. Afterward, Liu Xiang explained something to them. That explanation led Liang Lanjun to conclude Xue Ninglin was a homosexual harassing Liu Xiang.”

Sui Xing thought for a moment. “Then why was Ping Sheng targeted? Liang Lanjun almost certainly couldn’t have known he confessed to Officer Xiao Lan.”

Hai Shu shook her head. “I can’t answer that now.”

Zhou Ping Town was still immersed in the Spring Festival atmosphere; sporadic firecracker sounds could be heard. The courtyard in front of the Liang family home was surrounded by onlookers craning their necks, gossiping about what trouble had befallen the couple who couldn’t have children.

Hai Shu didn’t want to make such a big scene, but this time with a search warrant, she had the right to search their home and vehicles for evidence. The residents sunning themselves in the yard saw it and immediately spread the word—impossible to stop.

“Officer Hai, what are you…” Zhao Yue’s face showed panic. She wanted to block but didn’t dare. “We haven’t broken any laws. What are you doing?”

Hai Shu’s gaze passed over Zhao Yue to Liang Lanjun coming out from the inner room. Liang Lanjun still had a dark face, looking numb. Hai Shu walked over, turned on the light in the first inner room. The pale light shone down. In the middle of the room was a single bed. Against the wall stood an old desk piled with books, many of them popular science magazines from the Academy of Sciences aimed at the general public. Men’s clothing hung at the foot of the bed and on the rack. It looked like the bedroom of a single man living alone.

Hai Shu walked farther in. The two rooms were similarly furnished, except this one had Zhao Yue’s clothes. On the desk were a few cheap skincare products. Sunlight came through the window, making it brighter than the previous room.

By now Liang Lanjun had gone to the living room with the TV to smoke. He didn’t say a word, silent like a statue. Zhao Yue followed Hai Shu, standing at the doorway. Before Hai Shu could ask, she said, “We’re an old married couple with no kids. One extra room, so we usually sleep separately.”

Hai Shu smiled. “I came today because a case involves Teacher Liang. We need your cooperation.”

Zhao Yue said nervously, “Another case? Old Liang, Old Liang—”

Hai Shu signaled Sui Xing to start the search first. She went to the living room, holding a magazine from Liang Lanjun’s desk. Liang Lanjun stared at the magazine, eyes dark, lost in thought.

“I saw a lot of these magazines in the inner rooms. Teacher Liang is a science enthusiast?” Hai Shu asked.

Liang Lanjun’s lips moved twice, squeezing out only an “mm.”

Zhao Yue answered for him: “We don’t have other hobbies. When work is free, we read. He has a science mind—doesn’t understand literature. Books are expensive now; only magazines are cheap.”

Hai Shu stared at Liang Lanjun. “Quite a coincidence—this magazine has an old acquaintance of yours.”

Liang Lanjun stubbed out his cigarette.

Hai Shu flipped through the magazine with a rustle and found an article credited to Ju Ning—these articles were probably not written by Ju Ning himself but by editors or students, with Ju Ning’s name attached.

Hai Shu pushed the magazine in front of Liang Lanjun, tapping the two characters “Ju Ning.” “You were university classmates, right.”

Zhao Yue said uneasily, “That was so many years ago.”

Liang Lanjun finally spoke. “We were classmates, but we lost contact long ago.”

Hai Shu said, “The case I’ve been investigating recently is related to him. It was also him who told us about what happened during your university days.”

Liang Lanjun’s neck tensed. He looked at Hai Shu, unable to hide his disbelief.

“He spoke about the truth of your withdrawal from school and admitted the stab wound on his hand wasn’t from you at all,” Hai Shu said slowly, each word clear. “He also said he was coerced by a certain touring student, which led to your expulsion.”

Liang Lanjun’s lips trembled; veins bulged on the back of his hand.

Zhao Yue suddenly pressed Liang Lanjun’s shoulder like a gentle wife. “Old Liang, Old Liang, don’t get worked up. Listen to Officer Hai.”

Hai Shu said, “Teacher Liang, Ju Ning has confessed everything. The person who harmed you—Gong Zhao—we’ve also obtained his confession. He admitted to harassing and threatening you, and instigating others to cause your expulsion.”

Liang Lanjun exhaled heavily. He stared briefly into Hai Shu’s eyes, then said in a bleak tone, “What’s the use of saying this now? Can it make them get sentenced? Can it let me go back to 20 and continue studying? It’s useless. Whether they admit it or not doesn’t matter anymore.”

Hai Shu felt his intense helplessness. A proper university student suddenly had his spine broken by fate. No one heard his cries. He could only leave campus with his tail between his legs under the fearful and avoiding gazes of classmates and teachers, carrying his shattered dreams, hastily thrown into society, covered in wounds, and barely surviving in this small corner.

Perhaps only the books on the desk silently continued his youth.

Zhao Yue said, “Officer Hai, you’ve asked everything now, right? What does their admitting or not have to do with us? Go investigate them.”

Hai Shu found it hard to speak. She wasn’t facing despicable predators like Ju Ning and Gong Zhao, but the robbed ones lying in the mud. Yet having investigated to this point, she couldn’t stop out of pity.

She sighed inwardly and asked, “Do you hate Gong Zhao?”

Liang Lanjun gave a bitter smile. “Hate? What use is it? I can’t even reach him. I said it—past things can’t come back. Whatever happens to them has nothing to do with me anymore.”

Hai Shu: “Then what about people like Gong Zhao? If you could reach them?”

Liang Lanjun: “Homosexuals? In my eyes they should all be locked up. But I don’t get to decide.”

He had calmed down. No ripples showed in his features—only layers of dead ash and lingering fear.

Hai Shu looked at that trace of fear and thought—what was Liang Lanjun afraid of? The shadow Gong Zhao left. The young man back then hadn’t taken Gong Zhao seriously at all. Now, looking back as a middle-aged man, he feared Gong Zhao.

Zhao Yue said, “That’s all asked, right? We’re living fine now. We don’t want to care about those scum anymore. Can you leave?”

Hai Shu said, “Not yet. It’s not just this one thing.”

Zhao Yue immediately lowered her head to look at the seated Liang Lanjun.

“About Liu Xiang—I already talked to you some last time, but her case is being reinvestigated. There are still some details I want to verify with you,” Hai Shu said. “The summer before last—when Liu Xiang was going from freshman to sophomore—did you go to the city to visit her?”

Zhao Yue answered quickly, “No. Didn’t we say last time? We usually contact Liu Xiang’s sister. We didn’t want to disturb her studies.”

Hai Shu said, “You often go to the city for work. Wouldn’t it be easy to drop by and see her?”

Liang Lanjun’s expression shifted slightly. “Deliveries don’t leave much free time. Someone always has to watch.”

Hai Shu turned to Zhao Yue. “Do you go together? Or separately?”

Zhao Yue gave an awkward smile. “We don’t always go together, but the leaders take care of us—usually let us go together.”

Hai Shu took out her notebook, pretending to record. “Recall—which days were you in the city?”

“This…” Zhao Yue said, “How could we remember? If you need, you can check the work records at the factory. But Officer Hai, why are you asking this?”

Hai Shu said, “Investigation needs. Please cooperate.”

“Okay, okay—” Zhao Yue nodded reluctantly.

Hai Shu said, “Then let me mention a few dates—see if you remember. July 10 last year—were you in the city?”

Liang Lanjun didn’t react. Zhao Yue said, “Really can’t remember. Probably not. I recall we didn’t go to the city much in summer.”

Hai Shu said, “October 12 last year?”

“This… can’t recall.”

“December 3 last year?”

“Sorry, getting old…”

Hai Shu said, “Fine, I’ll check the work records later.”

Zhao Yue said, “Mm, okay.”

Hai Shu looked at them for a while but didn’t drop the topic. Instead she asked, “Aren’t you curious what happened on those three days?”

Zhao Yue said awkwardly, “We’re just ordinary workers. Asking too much isn’t good.”

Hai Shu said, “But many people I’ve spoken to, when I ask about a specific date, turn around and ask me why I’m asking.”

Liang Lanjun looked up, voice hoarse. “That just means they’ve never suffered real oppression. Their hearts are still upward.”

Hai Shu was slightly stunned, then returned to her rhythm. “There’s nothing wrong with asking. Since I’m asking you to cooperate, I won’t hide what I shouldn’t. Three university students went missing in the city. Those three days are when they disappeared.”

Zhao Yue said, “Ah, like that.”

Hai Shu said, “These three students all come from good families. Our investigation found they all like the same sex.”

Liang Lanjun’s back stiffened almost imperceptibly. His tone carried a trace of contempt. “There are so many of that kind?”

Hai Shu didn’t answer him. “One of them is a girl. Speaking of which, she was schoolmates with Liu Xiang and knew her.”

“Really?” Zhao Yue finally found a chair and sat. “Liu Xin never told us.”

Hai Shu guided the topic. “From what you know of Liu Xiang, besides family pressure and academic pressure, was there any other reason for her suicide?”

“What does family have to do with it?” Zhao Yue seemed resistant to Hai Shu’s wording. “Her sister never pressured her.”

Hai Shu nodded. “Then the main reason was at school—grades, relationships, perhaps troubled by unwanted romance.”

Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue said nothing. After a long pause, Zhao Yue said, “Officer Hai, we really don’t know about this. Today’s campuses are different from ours back then. All kinds of people are more common now.”

Hai Shu said, “Yes. People like Gong Zhao are more common too.”

Liang Lanjun stood up, picked up the ashtray, and dumped it into the kitchen sink. Zhao Yue said, “We small people are too lazy to care about these things.”

The search of the inner rooms was complete. Remaining were the living room and kitchen. Sui Xing shook her head at Hai Shu. Soon the entire search ended. Before leaving, Hai Shu stood at the door and asked again, “That day when I saw you outside the old workshop—were you really there to burn paper?”

A faint smile hung at the corner of Zhao Yue’s lips. “What else could it be? Officer Hai, we small people aren’t worth spending so much thought on.”

“Nothing suspicious except them sleeping in separate rooms. Everything else is ordinary,” Sui Xing closed the car door. “I heard you two chatting back and forth. Their mouths are very tight.”

Hai Shu said, “If it came out with one question, this case would be too simple.”

Sui Xing asked, “Where to now?”

Hai Shu said, “The glass factory. The crime required a vehicle. Let’s see if there are clues in the cars they usually use.”

“Right—Cheng Wei has been at the glass factory the whole time?” Sui Xing said, picking up her phone. “I’ll call him.”

It rang for a long time before Cheng Wei answered, voice excited. “I found something. Come to the old workshop now!”

Sui Xing was puzzled. “Why are you still at the old workshop?”

Cheng Wei said urgently, “Come first! See for yourself!”

Hai Shu turned the car and headed to the old workshop. Another group from Criminal Investigation Team 1 went to the glass factory to check the vehicles used by Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue.

Cheng Wei knocked “bang bang” on the outer wall of the furnace. The sound echoed in the empty workshop, muffled like an echo from another world. His outer coat lay discarded on the ground; his body was covered in grime. “There’s a door under this furnace. Below is huge—like an old air-raid shelter!”

Hai Shu was startled. She immediately went to the spot Cheng Wei indicated. It had already been opened—pitch black inside, hidden within the boiler. If they hadn’t turned the old workshop upside down, it would never have been found.

Powerful lights shone in. The bottom was visible, but not the end. A familiar smell wafted up—experienced detectives all knew what it meant.

Hai Shu took off her coat. “I’ll go down and see.”

The icy iron ladder felt like knives cutting into her hands; even the gloves couldn’t stop the bone-chilling cold seeping up from underground. Near the bottom, Hai Shu let go, jumped lightly, and when her feet touched the ground, a muffled thud sounded. She looked up at the opening above, and in her ears it seemed she could hear the sound of a heavy object falling.

If something were thrown down from above, it would make a similar noise.

Sui Xing and Cheng Wei followed down; the other team members stayed above. Powerful lights illuminated the basement. It was overall rectangular, very long ahead. The deeper they went, the stronger the pungent smell became.

Hai Shu swept her flashlight and saw another door ten meters away—an iron door, but not sealed tightly against the wall. A lock hung on it. While she bit the flashlight and picked the lock, Sui Xing said warily, “Where does this door lead?”

The rusted old door was pushed open with a grating, teeth-jarring creak. The stench, now unobstructed, surged out. Beyond the door was a closed space visible at a glance. The floor was all dirt, piled high near the walls—the foul odor came from those mounds.

Cheng Wei stepped forward and carefully parted a dirt pile with his tool. Soon, a heavily decomposed body, bones already showing, rushed into view.

The basement had severely inadequate lighting and poor air circulation, making examination very difficult. The three returned to the surface. Hai Shu immediately requested personnel from the police station. Only after all equipment and gear arrived did she order another descent into the basement.

Hidden behind the door were three bodies, no clothing, in varying stages of decay. Considering the underground temperature and humidity, the first body had been placed there about half a year earlier.

Besides these three bodies, what the police found in another dirt pile was even more nerve-shattering: a pile of limbs, torsos, and heads.

The bodies, along with the dismembered parts and heads, were carefully transferred to the crematorium for further autopsy, while the basement still required more meticulous examination.

Wen Xu extracted DNA immediately. The comparison results showed that the three relatively intact bodies belonged to three missing university students: Ping Sheng, Xue Ninglin, and Li Hui. Even before the results for the limbs and heads came in, the team members had already guessed—they were the grotesquely killed Wan Zeyu and Yuan Zhong.

“What was the cause of death?” Hai Shu was still directing the examination in the old workshop. She hurried back to the surface to take Wen Xu’s call. Her protective suit was soaked through, and her eyes were bloodshot.

“All three had obvious fractures in the spine and head, especially the cervical vertebrae. Ping Sheng’s occipital region was severely depressed. These fatal injuries were caused by falling from a height,” Wen Xu said. “Decay affects surface judgment, but Xue Ninglin and Li Hui still retained some binding marks. They were likely bound, limbs completely immobilized, and unconscious when pushed from a height, head-first, resulting in death.”

Hai Shu listened, her gaze gradually turning cold. “Toxicology?”

Wen Xu said, “Results aren’t out yet. One more thing: Ping Sheng’s struggle wounds were more obvious than the other two. From body type and gender, this is reasonable. Ping Sheng was male, stronger, taller and heavier than Li Hui. He likely fought more intensely.”

Hai Shu asked, “Were any other traces pointing to the killer’s identity found on them?”

Wen Xu said, “The killer was very cautious.”

This matched the conclusion Hai Shu had reached in the basement earlier. Logically, the dirt floor should have preserved footprints easily, but someone had deliberately swept it. There were footprints, but all destroyed—useless for identification. The ladder connecting the basement to the surface had no fingerprints. The lower part was damp; the person who cleaned the floor had washed the ladder from above downward. Only a small amount of mud stuck to shoes remained.

Before hanging up, Hai Shu asked, “What about the height of that ladder in the basement?”

Wen Xu said, “If the victims were unconscious and fell from above, cervical fracture and death were entirely possible. Xue Ninglin had large amounts of dirt under her fingernails, indicating she still had some consciousness after being buried in the dirt pile.”

It was an extremely cruel way to die. Hai Shu came to the old workshop entrance and took a deep, harsh breath into her lungs.

The news of bodies found in the old workshop had spread throughout Zhou Ping Town. The municipal bureau sent more team members to join the investigation. This operation was far larger than the one investigating Wan Zeyu’s case before Spring Festival. The onlookers from town didn’t dare show their faces, now worried about their own safety.

The team members Hai Shu sent to search vehicles reported back—no abnormalities, no traces like bloodstains.

When Sui Xing returned to the surface, she was startled to see Hai Shu squatting above. “What are you doing here?”

Hai Shu said, “I’m thinking—on the day Wan Zeyu killed Yuan Zhong, he may have seen the killer leaving from this place. That morning when I encountered Liang Lanjun and Zhao Yue rushing back to town, they weren’t there to burn paper. They spent the whole night cleaning up any possible traces here.”