Theft, assault, murder… These behaviors had evident goals and consequences, and came with clearly stipulated penalties. Provided you could catch the wrongdoer and find the evidence, the victims would be able to attain some approximation of justice.
But this justice wasn't always possible to attain.
For example, someone throwing rocks on the highway for fun, leading to a crash in which an innocent passerby died; someone making off with the lid of a well and the power line to a streetlamp, leading to a person walking by at night falling into the well and losing their life; or the cream of society casually making some decision, leading to a destitute and homeless person losing hope and killing themselves… To whom should these go to ask for justice?
Among victims' family members, there were no distinctions between the noble and the lowly; neither did pain and indignation distinguish between the light and the heavy crime. If, seeing the harm they had caused, the killer could endure internal guilt and the torment of their conscience all their life, perhaps that could have been some slight consolation; unfortunately, the consciences of most people in the world weren't so profound. Faced with catastrophic self-condemnation, they would often be beaten down by self-paralysis and a variety of excuses—
I didn't do it on purpose.
I wasn't doing it to you.
I didn't expect this to be the outcome.
From a certain point of view, I'm a victim, too…
Then who put you in that position?
In the final analysis, fate was the murderous bitch.
There was something wrong with the City Bureau's service car. The steering wheel would never return to a neutral position, and the brakes were slow to respond; you always felt you were about to accidentally rear-end the car in front. The whole car gave off a dispirited air of preparing to go on strike. Luo Wenzhou had thought that a wastrel like President Fei, who took luxury cars for bumper cars, would bristle when he'd driven two steps. He hadn't expected that he would only frown slightly at the outset, then quickly become accustomed to the doddering service car, not seeming at all ill at ease.
Luo Wenzhou noticed his route and couldn't resist asking, "Where are we headed?"
"Heng'ai Private Hospital," said Fei Du. "Zhou Huaijin stayed in the public hospital for a day, then, on the evening of the day he finished giving his testimony, he moved to a private one his family holds shares in. His brother said the noisy surroundings weren't conducive to recovering from physical and mental trauma—I figure it was in order to avoid the media."
"Didn't he just get a little cut on his leg? Tao Ran said it was only a flesh wound. I vehemently condemn this conduct of wasting medical resources." Luo Wenzhou pointed at Fei Du. "You should all be more careful. Extravagance and corruption are often the first steps of moral ruin!"
There was also perhaps something wrong with Fei Du; he could never say more than three proper sentences at a time without his system nearly shutting down. At this point, he immediately saw an opening to get in some teasing. "That counts as extravagant? So having you sitting here in my car right now, am I being extravagant beyond rescue?"
Half of Luo Wenzhou's face was hidden by a pair of sunglasses. Hearing this, he couldn't resist sighing. Despite having palpably taken a hit, he forced out a deadpan tone. "Darling, only with a face as thick as mine could anyone put up with your priggish style of flirtation. Is this the sort of summons you used to talk little idiots into your bed before? No wonder you were so successful."
Fei Du averted his not at all well-disciplined gaze, smiling without speaking.
Yan City's public security authorities were all near the city center, not far from each other. With Fei Du's changed course, the two of them had to drive past the Procuratorate.
The air of early autumn was dry. The sky was high, the clouds thin, and the sunlight was unbridled. As the police car drove past the back door of the Procuratorate, they saw a middle-aged woman standing at the side of the road.
She was holding a bottle of water. Around her neck hung a display board. On the board were a few smiling, dimpled little girls. The woman's eyes were a little vague. Seeing a police car, her gaze subconsciously followed it, passing through some of the numbness of the apathy she had picked up.
"That's Qu Tong's mother," Luo Wenzhou told Fei Du after a look. "I saw her a few times when she came by to give testimony. How can she have changed so much after just a couple of months?"
Fei Du said, "Director Lu was just talking to me about that business today."
"Oh?" said Luo Wenzhou.
Fei Du paused, then, meaning something by it or not, continued the subject. "It may have been my mistake, but I thought the old fellow was testing my ideas."
Luo Wenzhou's expression didn't change. His eyes calmly turned, passing through the sheltering sunglasses to peek at Fei Du. "What ideas?"
"I don't know. It sounded like…maybe he thought I was going to pay an assassin to butcher Su Luozhan and that crowd of pedophiles on behalf of the victims' families." Fei Du shrugged. "What, does it seem like my sense of justice is that strong?"
For a while, Luo Wenzhou didn't answer. He changed his previously indolent posture, sitting up and crossing his legs, his body language clearly becoming more business-like.
"He also crossed off some old case files I'd requested for review," said Fei Du. "I think I more or less understand. By coincidence, those cases all have some flaw. Some failed for lack of evidence, and in some the suspect submitted a diagnosis of mental disorder to show…"
"Fei Du," said Luo Wenzhou, laughing, "was Chief Lu testing you, or are you try to get something out of me?"
At the sparsely trafficked intersection, the stoplight changed from yellow to red, and Fei Du slowly stopped the car.
"I do actually understand something of this. My shifu got drunk once and let it slip." Luo Wenzhou was silent for a while, then said, "If I'm not mistaken, all the cases Director Lu crossed off must have been those transferred over during the original Picture Album Project?"
Fei Du hadn't expected him to be so cooperative. He couldn't resist giving him a look.
"Aside from the one who said he had a mental disorder, the others were all unresolved cases. At the time, the person leading the Picture Album Project combed through those cases from a different point of view, hoping to be able to find a breakthrough."
Fei Du listened quietly.
"They were limited by the level of technology and by the passage of time. A lot of the evidence had vanished, and psychological profiling wasn't suitable to supply evidence in court, whether from the point of view of maturity or from the point of view of credibility. In the end, these unresolved cases could only serve as research material; there was no way to bring the suspects to justice. The elders and experts involved in the Picture Album Project were stymied. Afterwards, one after another, the suspects in those cases met with misfortune."
"What kind of misfortune?"
"Some had unusual accidents, some disappeared, and one committed suicide, leaving a note confessing to the crime. One by one, the names on their desks faded away. It was too much of a coincidence. If it wasn't the heavens suddenly opening their eyes and bringing down retribution, then it could only be one circumstance—murder. The killer was highly intelligent and understood the victims even better than they understood themselves; furthermore, he was familiar with the police's methods for working cases. 100%, it was one of our own people. The Picture Album Project was therefore called to an immediate halt, and everyone involved was suspended and investigated."
At this point, Fei Du understood why, when Tao Ran had asked about the Picture Album Project at the table, Luo Wenzhou had avoided answering. The people involved in this case must all have been the cream of their profession or experts in related academic fields. If they hadn't yet retired, by now they had probably become respected and prestigious elders and administrators.
"And after that?"
"After that, the investigation team fixed on a suspect," said Luo Wenzhou. "I'm not too clear on the details, but there was no evidence to charge him with. This person was the key figure in the Picture Album Project. Many of my elders who participated in the project had been his students."
Fei Du immediately asked, "Who was he?"
Luo Wenzhou shook his head. "I'm not sure. The Venerable Yang didn't tell me. I tried investigating afterwards, and his file had been sealed. Though from what my shifu said, I think he's dead."
"You're not sure," Fei Du said quietly. "Meaning you investigated."
Luo Wenzhou neither acknowledged it nor shook his head. "I've already said this much. It's your turn to put your cards on the table.—Why did you get into Yan Security Uni? Why did you scheme so hard to be involved in the renewal of the Picture Album Project? Don't tell me you had nothing better to do and were simply curious."
Fei Du was silent.
The two of them sat side by side in the narrow front of the car, the distance of only a few fists separating them, but there seemed to be a thick, ice-cold wall between them.
Fei Du's gaze flickered slightly. Luo Wenzhou seemed to hear the sound of one sluice gate after another opening in his mind as their master coolly weighed which security doors he needed to open, how much he needed to reveal, to obtain what he wanted.
When the car's GPS showed that they were almost at their destination, Luo Wenzhou finally managed to pry a few words out of Fei Du's mouth.
"You know I always suspected that my dad had something to do with my mom's death," said Fei Du. "Even though you eliminated him from suspicion, I still had that feeling. I couldn't get rid of it. Theoretically, intuition is connected to a person's subconscious, and I wanted to know where my deep-rooted suspicion came from, so I tried to think of a way to trace back to when I was little.
"I remember my house had a basement that only my dad had the key to and even my mom couldn't go in, like Bluebeard's locked room. I plotted in secret for half a year to get the key and the code, then slipped inside…"
Luo Wenzhou acutely felt his voice stop at some complication.
"…I saw an open folder on his desk, and inside…uh…" At this point, Fei Du seemed to choke on air; he began to cough. He looked outside, closed the car window, and continued somewhat hoarsely, saying, "I'm sorry, I choked.—Inside was a paper. I gave it a rough look. I was little then, I only just knew how to read. I only vaguely remember terms like 'vicious case' and 'psychological trauma.' The name on the paper was 'Fan Siyuan.' I investigated him later, but found that he was a mystery. Aside from his teaching at Yan Security Uni, there were no other leads."
Luo Wenzhou didn't reply. He could tell at once that Fei Du was talking nonsense—he'd seen all kinds of papers on his parents' desks when he was little, and aside from the time he'd gotten hit when he'd torn up his dad's meeting notes and folded them into an airplane, he couldn't remember a single punctuation mark of any of them.
"Why would a businessman have that in his secret study? Don't you think it's strange?" Fei Du drove the police car into Heng'ai Private Hospital's parking lot. "After I broke in, my dad stopped using the place and moved everything in it, not leaving anything behind. In all these years I still haven't found where he put those things.—That mysterious paper is my last memory."
"Oh," Luo Wenzhou replied flatly. When the car had come to a stop, he unfastened his seatbelt. It was unclear whether he'd accepted Fei Du's part true, part false explanation. "If you want to ask about something after this, you can just ask me straight out. I like to say things clearly. If I can tell you, I'll answer right away. You don't need to peddle sex appeal. If I can't say, then even if my brain cells are missing half their chromosomes, I still won't say a word. You don't need to use such roundabout tactics against me."
After a pause, Fei Du finally realized what he meant. "Wait, you think I asked you out because of this?"
Luo Wenzhou ignored him and went to open the door. Fei Du grabbed his shoulder.
"Shixiong." Not only was Fei Du not angry, he was smiling. "I've wanted to ask for a long time, are you a little afraid of me?"
Luo Wenzhou nearly raised his eyebrows past the frames of his sunglasses. "Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?"
"Afraid I'll squander your emotions, afraid I'm not in earnest, afraid you won't be able to control yourself with me and won't be able to end things…" One word at a time, Fei Du said, "Which of my guesses is right?"
Luo Wenzhou's expression sank. He lifted a hand to shake him off. "You're overthinking…"
Fei Du said, "Or afraid I'll make it so you can't get out of bed?"
Luo Wenzhou: "…"
Never in his life had he seen someone who dared to boast so shamelessly. It really was an enriching experience.
Luo Wenzhou was speechless. He simply shut his mouth and pulled Fei Du out of the car.
As soon as the two of them left the parking lot, they saw vehicles belonging to every kind of news media surrounding Heng'ai Hospital's doors, and a crowd of people craning their necks to look. Suddenly, someone called out, "They're coming out!"
The sound of shutters clicking filled the air.
"Get ready, get ready!"
"Hey, guys, wait until they get closer."
"Don't crowd!"
"How inconvenient." Fei Du stretched out his head to look. "Zhou Huaixin didn't tell me his brother was getting out of the hospital today."
In fact, Zhou Huaijin's wound hadn't been as serious as the water he'd swallowed in the Baisha River. After a bit of treatment, he'd been ready to leave the hospital. But he was, after all, a spoiled young master who'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth; of course his flesh was more tender than that of the ordinary person. He spent three days in his own hospital, then cautiously left out the door in a wheelchair.
Zhou Huaixin had come personally pushing the wheelchair to pick him up. He'd been prepared for the mess at the doors. Wearing an enormous article of black clothing, he crudely sheltered Zhou Huaijin behind a human wall. Then he took off the non-mainstream jacket and screened Zhou Huaijin with it, blocking him from the cameras behind them.
Zhou Huaijin laughed good-humoredly. "Let them take pictures if they want to. There's no need to shield me."
Zhou Huaixin went along pushing him out. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Ge, don't you want to say anything to me?"
Zhou Huaijin's demeanor was unsurpassed. Even sitting in a wheelchair, his face haggard, he was still very pleasing to the eye and mind. He really didn't seem like Zhou Huaixin's full-blood brother. "Say what?"
Zhou Huaixin looked behind himself; among the racket, he quietly said to Zhou Huaijin, "Ge, no matter what, no matter what you've done… You're still my brother."
"What are you saying? If I'm not your brother, then who am I?" Zhou Huaijin said after a pause, laughing. As he spoke, he reached out a hand towards Zhou Huaixin.
Like an ill-favored skinny dog, Zhou Huaixin stared at his hand for a while, then, as if he had been well-trained, lowered his head and let Zhou Huaijin stroke the top of his head lightly. His tense shoulders gradually relaxed, and on his living ghost's face something that could have been called a peaceful smile appeared.
Zhou Huaijin warmly said, "Come on. Let's go home."
Zhou Huaixin nodded meekly, draped the jacket he'd just removed over Zhou Huaijin, and carefully pushed the wheelchair, avoiding the rocks on the ground.
A pair of eyes watched them from afar, thinking, How tender.
What did it matter if they gave the clueless outsiders a show? They were fabulously wealthy; there were bodyguards and a luxury car to take them on their way, in the grandest style. Let them take a few pictures today; tomorrow they'd go on the news and say, "The inheritance dispute is nonexistent, the Zhou Clan's future is as secure as the brothers' affection is deep."
No one would ever know what filth lay beneath their bright and fresh skins. Everyone was waiting for these social celebrities's pretentious performance; who would worry about the human lives hidden between the lines?
There were people who, from birth to death, were only worthy of appearing at the edge of the frame of someone else's news.
But why?
Zhou Huaixin's phone rang. After a pause, he picked it up. "Master Fei?"
"Look up. Across from you."
At his words, Zhou Huaixin searched all around, then saw Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou at the parking lot across from him.
"The police want to talk to you and your brother about something." Fei Du beckoned to him. "How about it, can you extricate yourself? Should we arrange a place first?"
"All right, let's…" Zhou Huaixin looked around and found that the media representatives who had been lying in wait for them had turned their cameras in another direction. There was a young woman around twenty holding a bouquet. Not coming over, she timidly bowed towards the brothers from a distance.
"What's going on now?" Zhou Huaixin frowned. "Master Fei, wait a bit. I'll call you back."
A bodyguard jogged over, bent, and said to Zhou Huaijin, "President Zhou, this young lady is a relative of the responsible driver in old President Zhou's car crash. She hasn't shown her face before, but today she somehow learned that you were getting out of the hospital and came over to find you. I don't know what she wants."
The bodyguard hadn't yet finished when the girl began to stammer. "I'm the only person left in my family. With my dad causing this kind of accident, we could ruin ourselves and still not be able to make amends… I…I wanted to come over and have a look, to personally apologize to you, maybe you won't think it's worth much…"
Zhou Huaixin looked at Zhou Huaijin.
"Tell her to come over here," said Zhou Huaijin. "She's not the one who hit him. I feel pretty bad for her."
Zhou Huaixin didn't think this was anything too unusual. His brother consistently showed this kind and courteous behavior when he was outside. He turned to say a few words to the bodyguards, and the girl was allowed in as the others murmured resentfully.
Across the street, Fei Du narrowed his eyes. "What's going on with that girl? She looks a little familiar."
"I think it's…Dong Xiaoqing?" Luo Wenzhou stared, then he fished out his phone—Tao Ran had just sent him a text message asking for leave, with the reason that Dong Xiaoqing claimed to have something to give the police, and he was accompanying Xiao Haiyang to go see her. "What's she doing here? Isn't she…"
Some sort of horrifying intuition leapt up Luo Wenzhou's spine. He had no time to consider. He put a hand on the guard rail around the parking lot and leapt over.
Fei Du stared. Then he quickly followed.
At this time, Dong Xiaoqing had already arrived in front of Zhou Huaijin, carrying her flowers. Her face was pale, and her body was trembling faintly. She carefully bowed to both Zhou Huaixin and Zhou Huaijin and twice said, "I'm sorry."
Zhou Huaijin reached out to take the flowers in her arms. "I know it was an accident, young lady. It's all right."
Luo Wenzhou dashed to the hospital doors, but he was blocked by the heap of media and bodyguards. "Police! Everyone get out of the way!"
It seemed that tears began to glitter in Dong Xiaoqing's eyes. She bent and pushed the enormous bouquet of scented lilies towards Zhou Huaijin.
Zhou Huaixin reached out a hand to block her. "My brother is allergic to flow…"
Before he could speak the "ers," he saw something flash behind the flowers. In that split-second, Zhou Huaixin had no time to think about what it was. He instinctively pushed away Zhou Huaijin's wheelchair, and a cold sensation pressed against his underbelly, followed by a sharp stab of pain spreading from it. Zhou Huaijin fell to the ground along with his wheelchair. He looked back in disbelief—
Dong Xiaoqing fiercely stabbed the melon knife into Zhou Huaixin's abdomen, hysterically crying, "I've come to send you on your way!"
At the same time, Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang, who had just reached the Wave's Bend Estate, were entirely unable to drive the police car in—the estate was surrounded by fire trucks.
Xiao Haiyang swiftly looked up. Dense smoke was billowing above the houses. Along with the firefighters' back-and-forth struggle with their high-pressure water cannons, the sounds of cursing and crying voices rose and fell…
His heart gave a lurch.
He couldn't see clearly where the fire was, but it seemed to be near Dong Qian's house!