Li Lingbai was stunned, staring blankly at her. Suddenly, he felt as if something belonging to him had been snatched away.

Li Zhuofeng’s intellect naturally couldn’t compare to Li Jinyu’s. She had given birth to Li Zhuofeng in her early forties when her uterine conditions weren’t ideal, and his successful birth was already considered a blessing. Li Zhuofeng’s current condition might not even match that of an ordinary child. How could he compare with Li Jinyu, who had a photographic memory since childhood?

June weather is unpredictable. It had just cleared up moments ago. Now Ye Meng stood motionless, trying to detect a hint of remorse in Li Lingbai’s eyes, but she found none. Those eyes, filled with frantic obsession, had completely overturned all of Ye Meng’s understanding.

“Can you tell me why you’ve treated Li Jinyu this way?” Ye Meng asked as she was about to leave.

Li Lingbai naturally didn’t tell her. She stared at her mockingly for a while before saying, “You’re so much like your mother, really thinking you’re some savior?”

Without changing her expression, Ye Meng asked, “So my mother’s death has something to do with you?”

Li Lingbai looked at her provocatively: “If I said yes, would you still be with my son?”

Slanting rain slowly drifted in through the window. The tender buds by the window were covered with plump raindrops. For some reason, the June rain carried a bone-chilling coolness, as if it had seeped into her bones. Ye Meng couldn’t help but shiver, feeling a creeping chill up her spine.

Seeing her silence, Li Lingbai’s lips finally curled upward slightly, revealing a victorious smile, as if she had pierced Ye Meng’s most painful wound with the sharpest weapon. She whistled contentedly, seemingly preparing to stand and leave.

Just as her buttocks barely lifted off the chair, Ye Meng answered expressionlessly: “Yes.”

Li Lingbai’s smile froze on her lips. Outside the window, the wind and rain wavered. Ye Meng sat calmly opposite her, like a clay figurine molded by someone’s hands, whose spirit couldn’t be changed no matter how it was squeezed or flattened. Li Lingbai finally couldn’t help but curse through gritted teeth: “Cheap, just as cheap as your mother—”

Before she could finish, with a “splash,” Li Lingbai’s face suddenly felt cold as someone threw a cup of water at her. She didn’t even have time to react, only instinctively squeezing her eyes shut. The impact felt no less forceful than a hard slap across the face.

There were no surveillance cameras in the meeting room. Ye Meng methodically wiped the cup and tossed it in the trash bin, as if she hadn’t been the one who threw the water, and said casually: “You’re not qualified to comment on what kind of person my mother was. Even if she had something with Wang Xingsheng, that was her own mistake, and she already chose the most foolish way to repay it. What about you? You’ve done so many wrong things, how do you choose to repay? Suicide?”

Li Lingbai reacted as if she’d heard a joke. “What did I do wrong? I did nothing wrong. Those people deserved to die.”

Ye Meng looked at her for a while and asked: “For example?”

“That old man at Oasis who swallowed sleeping pills, do you know who he was? He used to be the elementary school principal in our neighborhood, who sexually assaulted many young girls. Including my… psychologist, Quan Siyun.”

Li Lingbai habitually called Quan Siyun “teacher.”

“Why not report to the police?”

“Police? How boring. He’d only serve a few years in prison.”

Ye Meng felt a chill in her heart and continued asking: “What about that nineteen-year-old boy who died in the rental apartment?”

Li Lingbai sneered, saying disdainfully: “Six months ago, he and his girlfriend were robbed by motorcycle thieves on the road. He abandoned his girlfriend and ran away. The thieves raped his girlfriend, and that girl is still in a mental hospital. That boy was a coward, lacking responsibility.”

“What about the female college student who jumped from N University?”

“She was vain, borrowed money for plastic surgery, owed online loans, had nude photos taken of her, and despised her boyfriend for not having money, severely beating and scolding him.”

Li Lingbai recalled that afternoon, which seemed to be raining just like today in broad daylight. The mall was sparsely populated, with crystal chandeliers particularly dazzling. She had just come out of an antique shop and hadn’t walked two steps when she heard fierce arguing outside an H luxury brand store nearby. The girl was berating the boy who stood with a lowered head: “I told you not to wear those shoes, why don’t you listen? Didn’t you see how that shop assistant looked at us?”

The boy was still apologizing softly: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

The mall was almost empty, and the girl probably grew angrier the more she thought about it. Her eyes burned with rage, and her scolding grew harsher: “I told you we were coming here, dressed like that, how could anyone take us seriously? Can you understand human language at all? I can’t stand you! Get lost!”

…

Just as Liang Yun’an had said, Li Lingbai’s values were already distorted, or rather, she had been thoroughly brainwashed by Quan Siyun.

Li Lingbai had put herself or been guided by Quan Siyun into the role of a ‘judge.’ She was the lofty adjudicator, strictly judging all the evil in the world.

Ye Meng knew that talking further with her would be futile. She only asked softly: “Then what did my Li Jinyu do ‘wrong’?”

Li Lingbai looked at her in confusion, seemingly stunned by the words ‘my Li Jinyu.’ “He was wrong from the moment he was born!”

Meanwhile, Cai Yuanzheng was formally arrested, and the remaining few “psychological therapists” from “Yinzhen” were successively caught without exception through collaborative efforts by police across various locations. Li Jinyu only locked himself away for half an hour before continuing to attend meetings. He leaned in Fang Zhengfan’s office, smoking and discussing the case with that young and carefree psychological expert, Wen Yan.

Ye Meng happened to come out of Li Lingbai’s office, sporting a cute cake-roll hairstyle, and lazily leaned against the door, lightly knocking “tap tap” twice. Li Jinyu was speaking with Wen Yan and instinctively turned to glance, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette. He froze: “Why are you here?”

This was Ye Meng’s first meeting with Wen Yan. Her gaze fell on him for a moment, politely nodding, then she smiled brightly at Li Jinyu and said: “To take you home.”

The image of these two leaning by the window smoking was simply too pleasing to the eye. Wen Yan had a more rebellious and roguish appearance; if not told he was a psychological expert, no one would associate him with this profession. But Ye Meng still thought Li Jinyu was unrivaled. Her brother was truly like a deity descended to earth. Handsome from every angle. Especially his Adam’s apple, clear and clean.

“Quan Siyun was sexually assaulted as a child?” Liang Yun’an exclaimed as soon as he entered.

Fang Zhengfan nearly threw an ashtray at him for startling everyone.

After hearing what Ye Meng said, Wen Yan and Li Jinyu exchanged knowing glances, both speaking almost simultaneously—

“Did Li Lingbai say anything else?” Wen Yan asked.

“Why did you go see her?” Li Jinyu asked.

Ye Meng looked at Li Jinyu, but her words were directed at Wen Yan: “It was the Oasis suicide who swallowed sleeping pills. He was the elementary school principal in their neighborhood back then, and Quan Siyun was one of the victims.”

Wen Yan raised an eyebrow, “A victim becoming an abuser, that fits one condition of antisocial personality disorder.”

A police officer had just hurriedly returned from investigating the compound where Li Lingbai and Quan Siyun lived as children.

“We interviewed many neighbors. Most couldn’t remember past events, and many had moved away. Among the few remaining, we recorded two relatively clear descriptions of the incidents.”

The officer gave them two transcripts, with Li Jinyu and Wen Yan each taking one.

The room fell momentarily silent. Time seemed to stop as if the leaves outside had fallen several layers. Then with a “thud,” they almost simultaneously threw the transcript notebooks onto the table.

Fang Zhengfan’s fiery temper nearly made him throw an ashtray at each of them. Flushed with impatience, he said: “Well, tell us what it says!”

Liang Yun’an was also anxiously sweating.

Wen Yan said: “The statement records are from neighbors who were once targeted by Li Lingbai and Quan Siyun with dead rats. Moreover, all the rats were gutted with their internal organs removed, and their necks were tied with red strings. Then they were placed on those neighbors’ windowsills.”

Liang Yun’an felt nauseated hearing this but still forced himself to ask: “And then?”

“Once they were caught in the act, but due to the Li family’s economic power, Quan Siyun’s parents had no choice but to take her door-to-door to apologize. Some accepted, some didn’t. Quan Siyun followed behind her parents, watching them. She received several slaps from some unreasonable neighbors. It was this ability to endure humiliation that later enabled Quan Siyun’s parents to grow their business.”

After the meeting, Liang Yun’an went to make instant noodles for everyone. Fang Zhengfan was reporting the latest case developments to his superiors. Wen Yan sat on the sofa playing a game, while Li Jinyu locked himself in the adjoining conference room again.

It was dim inside with no lights on. Ye Meng could vaguely see an eight-person conference table with a chair half-pulled out at the head, and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts on the table. Li Jinyu was leaning in that chair, probably having finished his cigarettes, now just sitting idly, playing with a lighter, his legs casually spread.

Ye Meng walked over and leaned against the table edge opposite him, looking down at him skillfully playing with the lighter. “What are you doing?”

The bluish flame flickered, dropping sparks at his fingertips. He kept his head down, answering indifferently: “Nothing, just spacing out.”

The doors and windows were tightly closed. The rain outside grew heavier, “pitter-patter” against the rain shed and glass windows, carrying a fresh coolness.

Ye Meng crossed her arms over her chest, bending down to find his eyes, half-jokingly teasing him: “Little Brother Jinyu?”

Li Jinyu finally looked up at her, giving an almost imperceptible smile, then lowered his head again to play with the lighter. Before he used to make her call him brother, but now he seemed a bit embarrassed: “Go away.”

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head: “Nothing.”

Ye Meng instinctively made a questioning sound. Li Jinyu was gripping her hand tightly today, making her bones ache. Ye Meng thought vaguely, that if they were to make love, it would probably be painful. She silently drew a line for herself: do not provoke him at this time.

The rain outside pattered against the windowsill. “It hurts,” Ye Meng pulled her hand away, complaining weakly like a kitten.

He held onto her, giving a small laugh as if he didn’t believe her: “I’ve never heard you complain this loudly in bed.” The next second, he tilted his head back, leaning against the chair, finally noticing her hair. He gestured at her with his chin, asking casually: “What hairstyle is this?”

Ye Meng had intended to hit him, but her hand hadn’t even moved before she subconsciously grabbed her little curls: “Korean cake roll.”

“Why style it like this?”

“Makes me look younger,” Ye Meng said. “I think standing next to you now I look like a little sister. A young boy just asked if I was a college student.”

“Which young boy?” Li Jinyu’s gaze lowered.

Ye Meng couldn’t help laughing, pinching his face, teasing him: “Jealous, are you?”

At first, he smiled, pretending to be unconcerned as he raised his head: “No, just a young boy.”

After saying “no” several times “How could that be possible” and “I’m not that petty,” he leaned back in the chair, his eyelids drooping, his expression turning cold. While pretending to dust off his clothes, he said: “Fine, I’m jealous. Satisfied?”

Ye Meng leaned against the table edge, looking at him with the most tender gaze as if love filled her heart. This man had brought her so much excitement and trepidation.

Who isn’t young at heart?

Her Li Jinyu, even now, still was.

Later, Wen Yan and Liang Yun’an went to the quadrangle courtyard to find those two neighbors and learn more details about what had happened back then.

There was a towering locust tree at the entrance of the courtyard, extraordinarily large. It was said that on the day Quan Siyun was arrested, she stood there for a long time after returning from the airport. At the time, a police officer joked that she was nostalgic for her childhood innocence.

“Not nostalgia for innocence,” Wen Yan said, looking at the locust tree. “In psychology, there’s a theory that killers like to return to the crime scene. For instance, this might be the place where Quan Siyun committed her first murder.”

Liang Yun’an felt a chill down his spine. Although the quadrangle was lively, with an elderly park next door where children were everywhere, and bumpy sandpits that looked like hills piled together. Two streets away was a welfare center, and the smell of roast duck racks wafted through the streets. Finally seeing clear weather, the sun shone intensely. In broad daylight, such a vibrant place full of life made him feel cold.

“Murder?”

Wen Yan closed his eyes and said: “Six or seven-year-old Quan Siyun killed her first rat, using small scissors to cut open the rat’s belly from the anus bit by bit, then emptied its bloody internal organs, then tied a red string around its neck or anus. How do you think she felt? Excited, thrilled, or scared?”

“Perverted,” said Liang Yun’an.

“Psychological perversion also has an evolutionary process, you know?” Wen Yan continued.

When he opened his eyes, something flashed before him—a dead rat dangling in front of his face. Liang Yun’an said: “Like this?”

“Fuck, did you kill it?” Wen Yan cursed.

Unexpectedly, Liang Yun’an innocently dusted off his hands saying, “I picked it up from the ground. Don’t know who stepped on it.”

Wen Yan: “Throw it away.”

Liang Yun’an wouldn’t discard it. “Look, this rat also has a red string tied around its neck.”

Wen Yan was stunned. “What did you say?”

…

Three minutes later, Wen Yan squatted by the roadside, digging a hole while burying the rat. “It wasn’t stepped on; it was killed by injection.”

“Maybe someone used the rat for experiments?”

The wind in the quadrangle blew gently. Wen Yan’s movements were gentle, unusually gentle, like a spring breeze passing over a river, bringing coolness. He seemed to be burying the rat with the utmost respect for the deceased.

Liang Yun’an strangely felt as if he had studied funerary science. “Your technique is quite practiced.”

“My former dream was to be a funeral director,” Wen Yan said in a flippant tone.

Liang Yun’an: “Your dream is somewhat… unconventional.”

“Sometimes people live unsatisfactorily. I wanted to at least give them dignity after death.”

“Truth is the greatest dignity for the deceased.”

Just as he finished speaking, Liang Yun’an’s phone rang. He looked down and quickly answered, “Chief Fang.”

Wen Yan squatted, looking up at him, resting his hands on his knees, waiting for him to finish the call.

As soon as Liang Yun’an hung up, his expression slightly darkened. Looking at Wen Yan squatting on the ground, he said: “Quan Siyun has spoken. She confessed everything. Chief Fang wants us to hurry back.”

In the interrogation room, the lights suddenly brightened, like all the sunlight had been concentrated together, particularly piercing.

Quan Siyun’s eyes were initially closed. After she adjusted to the light, she slowly opened them, like a dusty coffin in a burial chamber that creaked open the moment sunlight penetrated. From the coffin, those long-sealed past events, like old photographs, scattered in the dusty light.

“Initially, it was because of a game,” she said nonchalantly.

Li Jinyu and Ye Meng sat on chairs outside the one-way glass of the interrogation room. Soon after, Liang Yun’an and Wen Yan hurriedly returned, pushing the door open while still gasping for breath, panting out of sync. “Where are we at?”

“Just starting,” Li Jinyu sat like a young nobleman in his shirt and trousers, with one leg crossed over the other. Rather than appearing to be listening to an interrogation, he looked like he was attending a theater performance, like the wealthiest young master in the capital coming to support a show. Beside him sat an outstanding girl with an excellent figure and temperament.

Wen Yan casually pulled out a chair and sat down.

Liang Yun’an turned to ask the recorder beside him, “Where is Chief Fang?”

The recorder said: “Just saw off the inspection team, he’ll be here soon.”

Liang Yun’an nodded. Inside, the interrogator’s voice came through again, “What game?”

The next moment, Fang Zhengfan stepped in wearing worn leather shoes with creases across the uppers. Even Wen Yan couldn’t help but frown at the sight. Chief Fang truly didn’t care about appearances, a paragon of honesty and integrity.

Fang Zhengfan’s small leather shoes stopped beside Li Jinyu, forming a stark contrast with his pointed leather shoes. The scene was somewhat painful to behold.

Inside, Quan Siyun’s entire face was devoid of emotion, like a frozen piece of pork. Her voice was equally cold: “A game called ‘The Judge.'”

Back then, she was only six or seven years old when a little girl named Li Lingbai moved in next door. They hit it off immediately, and their parents often socialized too. They became the best friends in the courtyard. Li Lingbai was a pampered little princess since childhood, and Quan Siyun’s parents’ business still relied on the Li family’s support, but this didn’t affect the girls’ friendship at all. One day, Quan Siyun accidentally overheard her parents gossiping about Li Changjin, and a sense of disgust grew in her heart.

Adults are so hypocritical, one way to your face, another behind your back.

So, from that day on, Quan Siyun’s little mind focused entirely on observing whether an adult could truly be consistent in words and actions. Regrettably, almost none could be. Li Changjin was probably the most consistent among them.

Everyone fell silent. The interrogator momentarily didn’t know how to continue. It seemed the world was just like that—the older you get, the harder it is to pay attention to details. Children long to be as mature as adults, while adults forever ignore children’s feelings. The likes and dislikes that people normally wouldn’t dare show in public seemed less restrained in front of children.

“So, you began to judge these adults,” the interrogator said.

“Who told them to treat children like dolls? Smoking and drinking in front of us, telling dirty jokes we couldn’t understand, even flirting with mistresses in our presence. You can’t imagine how proper these people appeared on the surface. They thought we would never understand what they were saying, but I understood everything at that time. I knew who was having affairs, who was secretly tampering with their electric meters, who liked to peep at others bathing. A thirty-year-old divorced man was living opposite Li Lingbai’s home, looked decent, and was. We all thought he was a good person. But it turned out he was an exhibitionist who deliberately left his door open when bathing, exposing his genitals to little girls. So I cut off a rat’s genitals and threw it into his house.”

“The principal of Nanhua Elementary School was a child molester. Li Lingbai judged him by hiding dead rats under his desk—rats with their bellies cut open and emptied of blood. When discovered this, Li Lingbai pushed all the responsibility onto me. Later, Li Lingbai moved away and transferred schools. The rest, you all know.”

The interrogator collected himself and asked: “Why didn’t you report to the police?”

“Would anyone have believed me? Later, when I grew up, I found I couldn’t speak about it. I felt humiliated. I felt people would look at me differently if I spoke up. Isn’t the adult world always like this? ‘Why didn’t you report it? Why didn’t you speak up? Just speak up and it will be fine. We won’t mock you.’ But would they not? Wouldn’t their mouths be grinning to the backs of their heads when discussing it privately?”

“So you used rats to substitute for judging those people?”

Quan Siyun suddenly smiled, “When we grew up, didn’t we have ‘Yinzhen’?”

The interrogator couldn’t help but shudder, finding her smile particularly eerie. Similarly, Fang Zhengfan also found her smile very uncomfortable.

Liang Yun’an seemed lost in thought until Wen Yan said, “Actually, every word in a child’s development should be carefully listened to; they all have deep meaning. Children can’t express the purpose of something as accurately as adults. Early maturers like Li Lingbai and Quan Siyun are rare. They could express themselves but didn’t use good methods. And those children who cannot express themselves are putting all their effort into expressing themselves with every sentence. They won’t directly say ‘The principal violated me’ or ‘raped me.’ From their mouths, it might just come out as something ordinary like ‘the principal asked me to go to his office.'”

Wen Yan continued: “But there’s one thing I still can’t figure out—why did she suddenly confess everything?”

Li Jinyu, who had been silent for a long time, still reclining in his chair with legs crossed, suddenly spoke: “Have you considered who was the first person Quan Siyun and Li Lingbai judged?”

Liang Yun’an’s mind was muddled, but in the dim glass room, these two godlike men exchanged a glance, each seeming to already have the answer in their eyes.

“Themselves.”

Liang Yun’an: “What could two five or six-year-old girls have to judge about themselves?”

Wen Yan lowered his head with a smile and said to Liang Yun’an: “Officer Liang, have you heard the saying, ‘To slay the dragon, one must first become a dragon’? The starting point of their entire story might be when they first killed someone, or rather, when they first ‘killed a rat.'”

“Officer Liang.”

Another voice called, and Liang Yun’an turned around in confusion. Li Jinyu added, “Do you know where the ‘climax’ of a judge is?”

Wen Yan said: “A nationally attention-grabbing ‘judgment.'”

Liang Yun’an thought: You’re nationally attention-grabbing all the time.

Wen Yan tapped his temple and said, “Let me think how to explain it in a way you’ll understand better.”

Unexpectedly, Fang Zhengfan, who had been quiet all along, suddenly interjected, “I get it. Quan Siyun was wronged in the quadrangle back then, taking the blame for Li Lingbai, and was also sexually assaulted by the principal. She was a victim, and it’s not uncommon for victims to become abusers. But most victims remain victims. There’s a condition called Stockholm Syndrome where victims fall in love with their abusers. But I don’t think Quan Siyun fell in love with that principal. She just fell in love with the feeling of being abused, or rather, she might have fallen in love with the feeling of being wronged. This was the early Quan Siyun. Later, her father went to prison, her mother committed suicide, and it seemed all the misfortunes in the world happened to her. She further immersed herself in the role of a victim. At that point, she was no longer satisfied with just being victimized, so she launched a plan—one hundred suicides would be sensational enough. The police would certainly invest significant resources. She would be caught, all spotlights would be on her, she’d be taken away in a police car, relatives and friends would protest her innocence, students would speak up for her, and then Li Lingbai would come forward to take the blame or rather, confess. Her image as a victim would be perfectly crafted, reaching climax after climax. A grand show. But why wasn’t it played out to the end? Why did she suddenly decide to confess?”

“She feared the police would investigate further,” Wen Yan said. “Also, I’ve noticed that Quan Siyun seems somewhat submissive in front of Li Lingbai. Understand?” He glanced at Liang Yun’an, who, upon this reminder, recalled that when Quan Siyun spoke to Li Lingbai, she was very subdued, as if being protected by Li Lingbai. He had thought it was due to Li Lingbai’s outwardly dominant personality causing this stark contrast between them.

“It’s not. It’s a characteristic unique to victims—they display weakness and vulnerability in front of their objects of revenge. Li Lingbai has been brainwashed by her for so many years; any state Quan Siyun exhibits can completely manipulate Li Lingbai.”

Inside, the dialogue continued. The interrogator asked: “So ‘Yinzhen’ exists as an organization similar to a judgment system, not a cult?”

“No, it’s not.”

“In your eyes, all those people had committed crimes?”

“I rarely managed ‘Yinzhen’ affairs, or rather, I barely participated, because Li Lingbai was thoroughly enjoying her role as the judge.”

“So how did you find those people?”

“Some came voluntarily, some were encountered by Li Lingbai, like that female student from N University. She would have someone lure that person in. As for how to lure them, there are many methods, do I need to detail them all? And some—”

“Which ones?”

“There’s an app called ‘Cave’ where people confess some of their unspeakable secrets. When Li Lingbai saw these, she would have someone contact them.”

Hearing this, the recorder outside the door quietly opened his phone and, in a cold sweat, deleted this app called “Cave.”

Both inside and outside the interrogation room fell silent. Such people inherently possess certain psychological defects. But genuinely hearing it in person, while Liang Yun’an found it absurd, he couldn’t help but feel goosebumps rising all over.

Three days later, “Bang!” A file was slammed heavily onto the interrogation table!

Li Lingbai raised her head woodenly. She was as withered as a corpse, with nothing left to confess.

Fang Zhengfan’s voice boomed like a bell, each word striking at her heart: “These are the people you deemed guilty! Look! That boy who died in the rental apartment didn’t run away! He went back to save his girlfriend! Only because he was outnumbered, and one of his eyes was blinded! Later, to pay for treatment, he secretly used his tuition fees! The school was pressuring him to pay, and he didn’t know how to tell his parents, so he chose to swallow poison in the rental apartment! That female student from N University was excellent in both character and studies. You said she was vain—what’s wrong with her saving every penny to buy herself some luxury items? You tricked her into nude loans. And about the argument in the mall—which couple doesn’t argue? A girl dresses up happily to go shopping, if her mood is spoiled, can’t she throw a little tantrum? This is what you see as a crime? Li Lingbai, are you looking at others through a magnifying glass?!”

For the first time, Fang Zhengfan was so angry he could barely speak. Ninety-eight statements, excluding Yu Wei who was currently in critical condition, and the deceased boy, made him increasingly disheartened. “This is your so-called judgment? That old man deserved to die, but among the majority of the others, were they really as heinously guilty as you claimed?”

“You’re a piece of shit yourself, so you think the whole world stinks!”

“Oh, and Yu Wei, we police barely managed to talk her down from the rooftop. Guess what? When she went to the hospital for a check-up, somehow she saw comments on Weibo. There were five police officers present, but none reacted in time. They watched her put down her phone very calmly and stand up. Everyone thought she was just getting water, but who knew, she walked to the window and jumped without a word. You’ve trained these people like special agents! They even know how to feint! How terrifying is your world?!”

“Now explain the cases of Chen Qingmei and Wang Xingsheng.”

“They have nothing to do with me,” she said.

“Oh?” Fang Zhengfan said, “You’re not taking the blame for Quan Siyun anymore?”

Li Lingbai could no longer distinguish where she was. Her mind was completely blank. No one came to see her. She couldn’t remember when she last closed her eyes and slept soundly.

“I don’t know. I seem to have killed a rat. She told me to cut open its belly, snipping it inch by inch from the anus…”

At the end of July, Fang Zhengfan interrogated Quan Siyun for the last time.

“On March 17th, that person in Li Lingbai’s car was you, right?”

“Mm.”

“‘Mm’ what? Answer yes or no!”

“Yes.”

“Did you force Wang Xingsheng to commit suicide?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It was easy to threaten him. I said, ‘If you insist on opposing me, I’ll let the whole world know what kind of woman Chen Qingmei (Ye Meng’s mother) was.'”

So Wang Xingsheng never dared to report to the police until his death, because he knew exactly what kind of person Quan Siyun was. He was truly foolish, not even daring to reveal anything to friends around him. He could only create such a bizarre suicide case to attract police attention, hoping they would notice the “Yinzhen” organization.

This world is quite good. Even the most foolish person has a way of protecting the world.

Fang Zhengfan felt a bit of solemn respect for Wang Xingsheng. Although being a third party in a relationship is shameful, he still applauded his courage.

“What about Chen Qingmei? Was she related to you?”

“She already had severe depression. Believe it or not, I quite admired her and even advised her to live a few more years. But she felt she had wronged her husband and child, so she still committed suicide. My only mistake was telling her about the suicide ritual. She truly believed that book could take her to another perfect world.”

“Is the suicide ritual real?”

“Who knows? Those who went never came back, and those who didn’t go, how would they know if they could go or not?”

“Last question, do you regret it, Quan Siyun?”

“I regret it. If I could do it again, I definitely wouldn’t do it this way. Is that more in line with core social values?”

Fang Zhengfan sat upright and said, “There’s one more thing to tell you. Your father did commit economic crimes back then; the state didn’t frame him. And your mother did commit suicide; the police didn’t misjudge.”

“Oh, that’s not important.”

Fang Zhengfan looked at her quietly, thinking: “You and Ye Meng are truly two different kinds of people. With the same experiences, the same environment, she managed to become a ray of light, while you burrowed like an earthworm into the cracks.”

Yes, they were like mirror-image lives heading in completely different directions. Fate gave them the same choices, but look, with a bit of effort, you can still become yourself. What’s wrong with making mistakes? If you make a mistake, just admit it. Stand straight when taking a hit. Life is unfair? So what if it’s unfair—if you want something, fight for it? If you can’t win, then the mountains remain unchanged, the waters flow long, and we’ll meet again someday. After all, someone has to win, why must it be you?

It’s like a rose. Blooming in a garden of competing flowers, it’s ordinary. But if it blooms in a thorny wilderness full of weeds, that’s truly precious.

A rose is still a rose.

Afterward, Liang Yun’an and Wen Yan watched children chattering as they dug in the dirt piles near the welfare center by the quadrangle. The sun hung high, making it too hot for dress shirts. Wen Yan wore an all-black t-shirt, which absorbed heat.

“What are we doing here?”

Wen Yan leaned lazily against the big locust tree. “Waiting.”

“Waiting for whom?”

Wen Yan placed a leaf on his forehead for shade, not responding. His other hand held his phone as he continued talking to Li Jinyu on speakerphone. “Brother.”

The voice on the other end was lazy and impatient: “Who are you calling brother?”

Wen Yan said, “You, of course. You’re two months younger than me.”

“Get lost. I was born in ’93.”

Wen Yan smiled, “Let me tell you something serious.”

“Go ahead.”

Just as he was about to speak, Liang Yun’an somehow caught a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy, dragging and pulling him over. Wen Yan’s smile disappeared. Liang Yun’an held him by the back of his collar, exposing a large patch of skin on his belly—a skinny boy with ribs showing. Liang Yun’an gestured with his chin, “Dumping dead rats at the welfare center entrance.”

“Hanging up. Looks like I’m going to win this one.”

Liang Yun’an was puzzled. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing. Just made a bet with little brother Li,” Wen Yan put away his phone and looked lazily at the skinny boy. “Come on, let’s take you to meet your mother.”

The boy struggled: “What? Where? Who are you guys? I just threw a dead rat, that’s all!”

Liang Yun’an bundled him into the car without another word, handcuffed him, and patted his defiant little head: “We’re arresting you for rat murder.”

“You’re crazy!” the boy cursed loudly.

The two men ignored him and drove toward the police station. Liang Yun’an couldn’t help but ask curiously, “What bet did you make with Li Jinyu?”

Wen Yan, driving the car, glanced in the rearview mirror at the agitated boy trying to break free from his handcuffs and said: “Remember that interrogation day? When Chief Fang asked her why she suddenly confessed. Li Jinyu and I analyzed all her plans. Everything up to the final step was planned. In psychology, data shows most criminals, even if they ultimately escape legal punishment, still have trouble eating and sleeping peacefully. Quan Siyun probably never intended to get away scot-free. She had determined the outcome of this judgment long ago—neither she nor Li Lingbai could escape. But Li Lingbai was already abandoned by everyone, and Quan Siyun didn’t want the police to find her son. She told Chief Fang, ‘In one lifetime, one must leave something behind, whether good or evil.'”

“Her evil is already known to all.”

Wen Yan smiled, “So I’m very curious. What do you think she left for her son? Good or evil?” Wen Yan glanced back at the boy in the car. “Is he the next ‘Yinzhen Master,’ or a good youth singing praises of socialism?”

“What did Li Jinyu bet on?”

“A good youth,” Wen Yan said. “But looking at the current situation, I might be winning soon.”

However, the boy was quickly released. As he left, he pointed at Liang Yun’an, cursing, “You’re sick! Your whole family is sick! So what if you’re police!”

Fang Zhengfan sat in his office, leisurely spitting out tea leaves: “We checked. Those rats were all laboratory mice. The red strings around their necks were because they’re test subjects—they don’t want them thrown in trash bins to be eaten by stray cats and dogs. Cats and dogs avoid these kinds of rats. It has nothing to do with Quan Siyun. Just a kid with some scientific spirit.”

Wen Yan remained casual, showing no remorse: “Oh.”

Liang Yun’an asked suspiciously: “Are we still investigating Quan Siyun’s son?”

“He’s studying at MIT. No need to investigate.”

The weight instantly lifted from Liang Yun’an’s heart.

…

In early August, Li Lingbai’s accounts were audited, and Hanhai Langan’s business was completely frozen. The “Yinzhen” fraud case, the antique smuggling case, and the major June 28 suicide case were all officially under investigation. Li Changjin simply returned to England, planning to come back for Li Lingbai’s trial.

The clouds that had lingered for days finally parted. Tender sunlight fell at the police station entrance, light jumping like piano keys up the steps. The atmosphere inside finally eased somewhat. However, because this suicide case had many victims, the flower baskets and honorary banners sent by victims’ families were piled up at the entrance. Fang Zhengfan was just worrying about how to handle them when Liang Yun’an, humming a tune, slid past him with unusually light steps.

Fang Zhengfan kindly waved to him and with a sweeping gesture said: “Take all these flower baskets and banners to Li Jinyu’s home. Tell him they’re a small token of appreciation from the masses.”