In the taxi, the three of them didn’t exchange a single word. Zhou Yu sat in the front passenger seat, feeling as if he were being sliced by knife-like winds in the night. The driver, looking at these three cold statues in the middle of the night, couldn’t help feeling uneasy and unconsciously turned up the volume of the car radio—
“Early yesterday morning, a female student from N University jumped from the top of Hongguang Building. Police have ruled out homicide and confirmed the death as suicide. The specific case is still under investigation…”
Coincidentally, the taxi was passing by the entrance of the Hongguang Building. The driver gestured outside with his eyes and couldn’t help chattering to Zhou Yu, “I don’t understand what kids these days are thinking. They dare to die but not to live. It’s all because their parents spoiled them, making them unable to withstand even the slightest setback.”
Perhaps due to the fatal incident, the LED lights of the Hongguang Building seemed particularly eerie. Ye Meng looked at them and asked the driver: “What setback?”
The driver explained the news report he had seen today, “It says this girl owed a lot of money from online loans, apparently to buy some computer. Then she was charged compound interest and… and was sexually assaulted.”
The car arrived at Fenghui Garden, and the three of them got out. Zhou Yu shuddered, not from the cold, but from his terrifying thoughts: “Do you think ‘Master Yin Zhen’ might be exploiting these people’s psychology, gradually leading them into ‘The Door,’ brainwashing them, illegally collecting funds, draining them completely, and then tricking them into suicide?”
Zhou Yu was positioned between the two, walking side by side towards the hutong alley leading to their home. From a distance, they could see the pomegranate tree in the courtyard. A cat on the wall “whooshed” past them gracefully. The alley was dimly lit, and their three shadows were constantly stretched, looking somewhat like a family of three.
“That sounds a bit absurd,” Ye Meng said.
“It’s not absurd,” Li Jin Yu, standing on the outside, added.
Zhou Yu instinctively looked in the direction of his voice. The bandage his brother had put on this morning was covering a love bite. Realizing this, he secretly glanced at Ye Meng, thinking he hadn’t expected such a passionate sister…
Li Jin Yu had one hand in his pocket while using the other to press the fingerprint lock. Without turning his head, he said to them, “Let me add to that. They specifically target those struggling at the edges of survival in the lower social strata, like Zhou Yu, or perhaps easily deceived female students who need money, using them for transactions of power and sex, like this morning’s deceased, or elderly people who are isolated from information.” At this point, he didn’t specify but glanced at Ye Meng.
Ye Meng thoughtfully asked: “What category does Wang Xing Sheng fall into? He wasn’t depressed, he had money, was a shrewd businessman, even had a forum account—certainly not cut off from information.”
“He belongs to the last wave,” Li Jin Yu unlocked the door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the door handle, waiting for them to enter. “The wealthy and powerful, particularly those with psychological defects, like Wang Xing Sheng who was in the BDSM circle and had unique sexual preferences.”
“How unique?”
Li Jin Yu coughed, somewhat unwilling to look at her: “Just very unique.”
“Unique enough to need religious conversion?”
Zhou Yu went to the refrigerator and took out three bottles of water. The three of them stood at the kitchen bar counter, conversing. Li Jin Yu leaned against the counter, casually unbuckling his belt, pulling it out, and tossing it on the table. His trousers hung loosely at his waist, creating a lazy sexiness that seemed half-dressed. Ye Meng thought he was doing it deliberately.
Zhou Yu held half a mouthful of water, shocked by his brother’s provocative actions. His face reddened, and he strangely felt too embarrassed to look at him, keeping his head down and swallowing in small sips.
Li Jin Yu leaned back lazily, hands in his pockets, looking at Ye Meng as he spoke: “Zhou Yu and I have researched this. Ma Hou and Wang Xing Sheng were both artifact dealers in their early years, famous as the ‘Monkey King Brothers’ in Guangdong. Back then, antique dealers in Guangzhou and Shenzhen all got their merchandise from them. They transported antiques to Hong Kong through layered trucks between the mainland and Hong Kong, as well as through vegetable farmers and other channels. You know, trading in Hong Kong makes it legal.”
A flash of recognition seemed to cross Ye Meng’s mind. She frowned, murmuring: “I think I remember where I’ve seen Ma Hou before.”
“Do you remember?”
“Ningshui Grand Hotel? When did Cheng Kai Ran receive that antique dealer with the Beijing license plate? He was wearing my mother’s ring at that time! When we were disguised as waiters?”
Li Jin Yu gave a mild affirmative sound. “Wang Xing Sheng later successfully laundered his reputation and became an overseas collector. Ma Hou transitioned to specializing in international channels and now controls a large amount of information on foreign collectors. Both Wang Xing Sheng and Ma Hou are disciples. Sister, have you been to Tibet?”
“No,” Ye Meng answered truthfully.
“I have many friends who believe in Tibetan Buddhism. Religious culture is quite prevalent in their local area. Most businesspeople, especially those in the antique trade who deal with graves and ashes, have a reverent heart toward deities. Many celebrities and entrepreneurs are Buddhists, and they’re not just casually worshipping as we might; they practice esoteric methods.”
Ye Meng had heard some whispers within the circle about disciples of esoteric practices.
Zhou Yu was quite curious and didn’t know when he’d grabbed another cup of milk, gulping it down eagerly. He asked gossipily: “Who? Why? They’re already so rich, why are they still so superstitious?”
Li Jin Yu wasn’t as interested in gossip and didn’t divulge the secrets of these wealthy families in the circle. He simply told him: “Religious belief is normal. The poor pray for this life, the wealthy pray for the next—it’s a common human condition. Everyone wants to live a better life. Religious belief is just a door, and no one knows what lies behind it. But people who believe in religion still fear death. Those who don’t fear death believe in cults. ‘Master Yin Zhen’ doesn’t exactly force them to commit suicide; rather, he captures these people’s determination to die and squeezes the last drop of blood from them.”
Zhou Yu never imagined that the lifeline he had desperately grabbed onto was a demonic claw. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of dread, staring blankly at the counter and muttering in disbelief: “Do you think there might be many others, like that sister this morning, who joined a cult? Like me—if I hadn’t met Sister Ye Meng, if I had died, everyone would have thought I committed suicide because I couldn’t bear domestic violence and school bullying?”
“Yes.”
That night, Zhou Yu never came out of his room again. Only the two of them remained in the kitchen. The dim light from the counter fell, surrounding silence, with only the faint humming of the refrigerator audible. Ye Meng stood anxiously for a while before asking softly: “What information did you get from Ma Hou?”
Li Jin Yu lit a cigarette, turning to pull over the ashtray, tapping off the ash as he spoke: “Ma Hou claimed he was ‘Yin Zhen,’ but Zhou Yu denied it on the spot.”
When Li Jin Yu said he would let him enjoy himself, Ma Hou nearly knelt before him. Trembling, he cowered in the pile of mops, pissing himself with fear: “Master, master, I was wrong, I was wrong. I have a foul mouth, a foul mouth.”
Though Ma Hou’s frame was larger than Li Jin Yu’s, years of immersion in entertainment establishments had left him with a beer belly and a weakened constitution. Li Jin Yu’s two kicks immediately frightened him into kneeling and begging for mercy.
Li Jin Yu sat on the ground, one leg propped up, his arm lazily resting, phone pointed at Ma Hou. “How did Wang Xing Sheng die?”
Ma Hou’s face was sincere: “I truly don’t know what happened. I only advised him not to oppose ‘Yin Zhen.’ Then I heard he committed suicide.”
…
“Is there any truth in what this man says?” Ye Meng took the cigarette from between his fingers and put it between her lips.
Li Jin Yu lowered his gaze to look at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know, but what he said made me understand something.”
“What?”
“Who switched Wang Xing Sheng’s surveillance video.”
“Who? Ma Hou?”
“No,” Li Jin Yu said, “Wang Xing Sheng himself.”
Ye Meng’s hand holding the cigarette trembled. Li Jin Yu glanced at her sideways and continued: “Your mother had the book ‘The Door’ in her car. This morning’s girl at Hongguang Building jumped while holding the book. In their subconscious, they may believe that behind this door might be another world—it’s a bit like a death ritual. Committing suicide while holding the book is as if they’ve passed through a door, moving toward another unknown world. Perhaps, just as ‘Yin Zhen’ brainwashed them, behind this door is a world without strife, without money, without hierarchy, without discrimination, without fear, where everyone has their territory. If that’s the case, why didn’t Wang Xing Sheng perform this ritual when he committed suicide?”
“Was he in too much of a hurry?”
“Is that possible? A religious believer, no matter how hurried, wouldn’t abandon this most basic ritual. Wang Xing Sheng must have had a conflict with ‘Master Yin Zhen,’ or perhaps he wanted to leave ‘Master Yin Zhen,’ or was threatened in some way. This would explain why he made an ordinary suicide case appear so strange, capturing society’s attention. Because he wanted to prevent it from being defined as an ordinary suicide, like your mother’s eight years ago.”
“Then why did he switch the surveillance?”
Li Jin Yu said: “He checked out of the hotel at 3 AM on the 17th, then disappeared from all surveillance for the entire day. He was found dead in the car factory at 9 AM on the 18th. The first thing he did upon arriving at the car factory was to replace the video of him entering with footage from the 10th. I was initially caught in a misconception—that the surveillance must have been switched by the killer. It wasn’t until this morning’s case with the girl that I began to sense something was off. In a case like Wang Xing Sheng’s, if I were the killer, I’d want the surveillance to clearly show Wang Xing Sheng walking in by himself. Wang Xing Sheng checking out in the early morning, switching the surveillance—all these seemingly bizarre actions were just his way of telling the police he didn’t commit suicide. He must have been coerced at the time. He wanted this case to attract society’s attention, or rather, he wanted to bring ‘Master Yin Zhen’ to the police’s attention.”
As they talked, Ye Meng felt as if the clouds were parting, like she could faintly see a glimmer of dawn.
Then there was a long silence; neither spoke, creating an awkward atmosphere. Moonlight sank in, falling smoothly on the floor like a thin layer of gauze. Earlier at the rooftop of Bashan Club, the two had argued about the Ma Hou incident.
Looking down from the top of Bashan Club, the entire prosperous city of Beijing was in view. Rows of towering buildings reached into the clouds, with colorful neon lights resembling scattered fires, glowing in clusters. The red taillights on the interchange bridge stretched like an endless ribbon of light. It was a perfect spot for viewing.
Zhou Yu stood dazedly on the terrace, looking down. Everything was orderly, quiet, and peaceful, like a parallel world.
“What exactly did you do to him?”
The three of them were on the rooftop. Ye Meng was still questioning Li Jin Yu. Zhou Yu, fearing involvement, automatically positioned himself in the farthest corner, barely able to hear their voices. Looking over, the two seemed to be arguing. Li Jin Yu reached out to touch the sister’s head, but she pushed his hand away.
The rooftop of Bashan Club was very high; the moon overhead seemed within reach. The two stood by the railing. Li Jin Yu leaned against it wearily, a cigarette between his fingers. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing tantalizing collarbones. The bandage on his neck had been torn off, his sleeves were rolled up, and there were two gray smudges on his clean, dark trousers—dirt from when Ma Hou’s hands had touched him during the kicks.
He didn’t care; he just silently watched Ye Meng. His gaze was scattered and unrestrained, showing a kind of indifference that was neither sad nor happy, almost floating, like a leaf in the air, drifting but never settling, making Ye Meng feel something was off about him.
After a long while, he reached out to remove some fluff from her hair, but his hand was ruthlessly pushed away by Ye Meng.
“Don’t touch me! What exactly did you do to Ma Hou?”
Li Jin Yu rested one elbow on the railing, leaning there, his cigarette-holding hand frozen in mid-air. He paused, his eyes showing restraint, slowly withdrawing his hand to put out the cigarette and obediently returning it to his pocket. Looking away, he said hoarsely: “Fine, I won’t touch you.”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask Zhou Yu.”
“Zhou Yu won’t tell you,” Li Jin Yu jerked his chin toward the corner where a huddled shadow was trying to make himself invisible. “Haven’t you seen how he’s hiding over there?”
“Li Jin Yu, you!”
“Are you going to argue with me again?” His eyes weren’t bright; they were dark and repressed, yet reflecting the lights behind him, like unnamed anger.
“It’s because you don’t listen!”
“Am I not listening to you enough?”
“I told you not to do illegal things. You’re already twenty-seven; these principles—”
“I’m sorry my mother didn’t teach me,” he bit the insides of his cheeks as if holding back, but finally couldn’t. Those dark, repressed eyes, as if dipped in ice water, seemed to return to the night of their first meeting, like the brackish, uneasy waters of Ningshui Lake. Like an unwanted stray dog, he blurted out regardless: “If I hadn’t been thinking of you, do you believe that dog Ma Hou would already be dead?”
After speaking, Li Jin Yu turned around, placing both hands on the railing, his back to her. Head down, back arched, he remained silent for a long time. He seemed to be in great pain, his chest rising and falling rapidly. At this moment, he wished he could pull out every bone in his body and reassemble them, but he still forcefully suppressed the violent sensation exploding in all his blood vessels. He exhaled and said: “To be honest, I’m extremely upset today, truly extremely upset, even more than when I saw the photos of you kissing Gou Kai. But I’m still holding back because I’m afraid of scaring you, and I don’t want to argue with you because of that dog. If you can’t stand it, you should leave first, and I’ll apologize to you tomorrow. Right now, I don’t want to say or explain anything. This is just how I am.”
Those long, knuckled fingers formed a tower on the railing, particularly white and clear in the moonlight. Ye Meng looked at those clean and aloof hands, unable to imagine what kind of blood flowed in such a man’s veins—good or evil? If he had been born into an ordinary, normal family, perhaps he would now be a distinguished social elite. He could have become anyone—a doctor writing endless papers for promotion, a researcher confined to a laboratory, a handsome and aloof diplomat… or even an idol driving everyone crazy. How would they have met then?
No, they wouldn’t have met again. Would he have fallen in love with her so easily after just being teased a couple of times? Probably not.
The moon overhead seemed to fade, wrapping him in an especially cold light. The city lights could no longer merge into his eyes. He kept his head down, still unwilling to look at her.
The clock hand pointed to twelve. The tree shadows outside were rustling with a “shh-shh” sound. During seasonal changes, all things contradict, and people were a bit contradictory too. Zhou Yu had woken up from his sleep, rubbing his glasses drowsily as he came out for water. The two were still leaning at the kitchen counter, motionless, neither acknowledging the other. Ye Meng didn’t say she was leaving, and Li Jin Yu didn’t ask her to leave. They were just lazily dragging things out.
The belt was still on the table; the two hadn’t moved at all. Zhou Yu poured water and prepared to leave.
Finally, Ye Meng’s gentle voice was heard: “Well… I’m going home.”
“Mm.” The man’s response was cold.
Ah, they still haven’t reconciled! Zhou Yu sighed as he turned back to his room.
Ye Meng went to put on her shoes. The sound of high heels echoed in the silent night, “click-clack-click.” Even Zhou Yu could hear the reluctance in her footsteps.
Zhou Yu lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling, carefully listening to the movements outside, until the sounds of intense kissing and soft moans arose. Only then did Zhou Yu finally close his eyes with relief.
The bathroom door closed with a snap. Ye Meng, disheveled, moved her hand gently: “Are you satisfied now?”
Li Jin Yu had one hand against the door panel, head lowered, playing with the buttons on her chest. His brows were furrowed, restrained as he murmured: “Mm.”
“I wasn’t angry today, and I wasn’t arguing with you earlier. It’s just that you wouldn’t open the door, and I was worried you might do something serious. I was concerned about you.” Ye Meng spoke while continuing her movements.
He closed his eyes in suppression, his head tilted back, saying softly: “He wouldn’t dare.”
After just a short while, Li Jin Yu finished in her hand. Ye Meng now handled him with complete ease. “It’s only been three minutes,” Li Jin Yu was displeased. Having gotten what he wanted, he acted petulant, burying his face in her slender neck, somewhat angry yet turning his head away, laughing with irritation, his clean voice unable to hold back a curse: “Fuck.”
This is not my true level. Thanks.