Gou Sheng looked up at Shi Ting, and instinctively clenched his fingers tighter, quickly lowering his head.

“Although Fan Dabao is dead and we have no way to learn the exact details from that night three years ago, there was one other person who knew what happened.”

Shi Ting had someone bring in a middle-aged woman. She was one of the few longtime residents of the shantytown who had stayed behind during the resettlement, choosing to remain with her husband. On the hillside beside the textile factory grew some wild herb, and the couple made their living harvesting it.

The woman came in hunching her shoulders timidly: “Officer, I haven’t broken any laws — why have you brought me in?”

Zheng Yun reassured her: “Auntie, we just have one question for you. There’s nothing to be afraid of — once we’re done, we’ll send you home.”

The woman nodded nervously: “Go ahead and ask.”

Shi Ting looked at her, his voice measured: “Do you remember what happened on the seventeenth of June three years ago?”

“I remember clearly.” The memory of those events was still vivid to her. “That day I went up the hill to gather herbs and accidentally fell into a pit. I twisted my ankle and took ages to crawl out. As I was limping back past the textile factory with my cart, I heard a cry for help coming from that small grove next to the factory. I looked over from a distance and saw a sharp-faced, monkey-eared man assaulting a young girl. I’m only a woman, and my ankle was twisted — I couldn’t have done anything even if I’d rushed over. I’m timid by nature and ran off in fright. Officer, please don’t blame me for not saving her — I truly couldn’t have.”

Shi Ting said: “Three years ago you testified as a witness against the killer. What you’ve just described matches what is written clearly in your statement.”

The woman nodded emphatically: “That’s how it was, Officer.”

“Think again — is there any detail you might have left out?”

The woman furrowed her brow in thought. “I don’t know what details you mean. That night, after I left the grove I was unsettled for a long time. I kept hearing that poor girl’s cries in my mind and couldn’t shake the guilt. So partway home, I turned around and pushed my cart back. I saw a light on in the factory guardhouse. I thought to myself — the gatekeeper is like a half-official, like a security officer. If I told him, surely he’d do something.”

At this point, Shi Ting glanced at Gou Sheng. His emotions were visibly rising.

“The man on duty was tall and powerfully built. I knocked and told him there was someone assaulting a young girl in the grove nearby.”

“And what did the gatekeeper say?”

“He said it was none of his business. He was responsible for the textile factory — not the grove beside it. Even if someone were being killed in there, it had nothing to do with him. Then he sent me away. I went home and told my husband, and he came with me to the grove. But by the time we got there it was already too late. That girl had not only been — she’d been strung up in her own intestines on the tree. That scene was truly horrifying.”

“When you sought help from the gatekeeper and he refused, why didn’t you go inside the factory to find someone?”

“It was the middle of the night shift — everyone inside had already started work, and the main gate was closed. I asked the gatekeeper to go in and find people to help. He said it was more trouble than it was worth and told me not to worry about it — said it was probably just some couple fooling around in there.”

“The gatekeeper you described — was it this man?” Shi Ting showed her Fan Dabao’s photograph.

The woman glanced at it and nodded without hesitation: “That’s him.”

Shi Ting looked at Gou Sheng — who had not spoken a word, but whose lips were bitten raw and bleeding. “You said you had no reason to kill Fan Dabao. What about this reason?”

Gou Sheng let out a cold snort: “If you want to frame me, you’ll find a hundred reasons to do it. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“It seems you won’t believe it until you’re faced with the evidence.” Shi Ting had the woman escorted out, then sat down across from Gou Sheng.

“On the night of the murder, you noticed Fan Dabao’s window was broken and offered to go home and fetch a replacement pane. To protect your hands from the sharp glass edges, you put on the heat-insulating gloves from the dyeing workshop. When you arrived, Fan Dabao told you about being beaten and, in a foul mood, produced two bottles of liquor and a packet of peanuts. The two of you drank and talked. In the course of the conversation, Fan Dabao let slip what he had done — or rather, failed to do — on the night your sister was killed: he had refused to help. You felt that everything you had believed about him for years was a lie. The alcohol robbed you of your reason. You put on the gloves, picked up a piece of broken glass that hadn’t yet been cleared away, and drove it into Fan Dabao’s heart. Still not satisfied, you sliced his throat, and stabbed him dozens of times across his body. You cut out his heart and threw it into the furnace. Just as you were about to leave, you remembered that payday had been that day, so you searched the room — but you didn’t find it. In your anger, you took Fan Dabao’s watch. Unless I’m mistaken, the investigators should be on their way back right now with the glass and the watch and the gloves found in your room.”

Gou Sheng raised his head and stared at Shi Ting in shock. “You — how did you know?”

“Denying it is pointless. With this evidence, even if you say nothing, it won’t delay your conviction.”

Shi Ting placed an evidence bag on the table before Gou Sheng. Inside was a jade pendant strung on a red cord, carved in the shape of a small white rabbit — charming and delicate.

“I noticed this on Little Kun’s neck — Fan Dabao’s son. I then found an identical impression on your sister’s body. This pendant should have been around your sister’s neck. Am I right?”

The sight of the pendant broke through Gou Sheng’s defenses. His composure collapsed, and he let out a wailing cry.

Shi Ting waited patiently. Only when he had finished did Shi Ting say: “It was also this pendant that allowed me to connect the Fan Dabao murder to your sister’s case from three years ago. Coincidences exist, but too many coincidences become something more than coincidence.”

“I didn’t know Fan Dabao had taken that pendant. I always assumed it was that animal Zhao Mingsi who took it.”

Little Kun always wore the pendant beneath his clothing, so Gou Sheng had never noticed.

“Did Fan Dabao and the others — Bald Two and the rest — know that the Little Peach Blossom killed in the grove three years ago was your sister?”

“They didn’t. I had only just arrived at the factory then and was still a junior laborer — I didn’t know anyone well. There were so many people at the factory that not everyone could keep track of everyone else.”

Gou Sheng bowed his head, his voice dry: “I got to know Bald Two and the others through the dyeing workshop. They were close to Fan Dabao, and through them I came to know him too. Fan Dabao treated me well. He used to tell people all the time that he’d look after me — that I was like his own little brother. He was a timid man, and a bit too fond of small advantages, but aside from that, he had no great faults. He and I always got along well, and over the years I gave him everything — my whole heart.”

For a child like Gou Sheng, orphaned so young, Fan Dabao’s care and attention over those years had been something he felt truly grateful for.

“Last night, I finished the night shift and passed by the guardhouse. I noticed his window was broken, and remembered I had some glass at home, so I went back and fetched a piece. Fan Dabao told me that some bastard had smashed his window and then beaten him under a sack — said if he ever found that person, he’d deal with him properly. I was angry on his behalf and said I’d help him track the man down. He brought out the spirits and peanuts, and we sat there drinking and talking about all kinds of things. I’m not much of a drinker, and after only a little I was already feeling it. Just then someone knocked at the door and gave Fan Dabao a fright. He opened it and found it was a cat. Cursing, he said — three years ago, someone had also knocked on his door one night, and nearly scared him to death.”

Gou Sheng swallowed. “I asked what he meant. He said one night three years ago, a woman knocked on his door and told him there was someone assaulting a girl in the grove. He said — what’s that got to do with me? Those people carry knives, and if I got involved I might get myself killed. After the woman left, he stepped outside and listened from a distance. He said he could hear it all so clearly — the little girl screaming so pitifully, and the man’s voice sounding so pleased. He said while he was listening to those sounds, he went and — went and gratified himself. As for the pendant, it must have been that after Zhao Mingsi killed her, Fan Dabao went to see what happened and took the pendant while no one was watching. That was just how he was — always grabbing at small gains, even from a dead person.”

By the time Gou Sheng reached these words, his expression had become utterly ferocious: “He didn’t have to go himself — he only needed to shout once into the factory. There were nearly a hundred workers on the night shift inside. A few of them coming out would have been enough to scare Zhao Mingsi off. If he had possessed one shred of decency, my sister would not have died the way she did. Zhao Mingsi was the killer, but Fan Dabao was his accomplice. As I sat there listening to him speak so freely about it, the will to kill had already taken hold of me. I waited until his back was turned, put on the insulating gloves, and found the largest, sharpest piece of broken glass. When I cut his throat, he wasn’t dead yet. He stared at me wide-eyed as if to ask why. I told him: I am that little girl’s brother. I cut out his heart and threw it in the furnace — because his heart was black. After killing Fan Dabao, I suddenly remembered it was payday at the factory, so I searched the room inside and out. But Fan Dabao had hidden his money well and I couldn’t find it. I looked at the room I had already turned upside down, and went and made it even worse. I figured that when the military police came to the scene, they’d assume someone had killed him for his money — and with how close I was to Fan Dabao, you’d never suspect me.”

“No one who kills for money has time to linger and take out their fury on a corpse. For them, every minute counts — a single extra moment risks being discovered.”

“I realized that afterward too. But it had already happened, so I let it be.” Gou Sheng let out a long, miserable sigh.

“When you killed Fan Dabao, was there even a moment when you thought about how good he had been to you over the years?”