Snow City is known for its heavy snowfall. The autumn sun blazes like fire and is located south of the Tropic of Cancer. To the north, the biting cold wind sweeps through, and rivers freeze over. The snow in Snow City doesn’t fall delicately; it pours down violently as if the heavens are tipping a giant basin from above. The heated snow cascades instantly blankets the fields in pure white. I grew up in Snow City, and I have always loved the feeling of the cold wind slapping my face. I have participated in every winter sport involving ice and snow, excelling in each.
I am not an athlete; I am a police officer. My name is Peng Zhaolin, and becoming a police officer was my father’s wish. I was full of energy as a child—climbing walls, shimmying up trees, blocking chimneys, and throwing dung at my enemies’ doors. If no one came to complain for three consecutive days, my mother would think the sun had risen in the west. When it came time to apply for college, my father insisted I enroll in the police academy, warning that without a strict path, I might stray into the wrong crowd. After graduating from the police academy, I started from the grassroots level, working in various roles—community policing, economic investigations, and criminal investigations. Step by step, I have now become a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division of the Snow City Public Security Bureau.
Not long ago, I took on a case involving a group of farmers from the southwestern mountains who came to Snow City. They climbed the outside of twenty-story buildings, one windowsill at a time, to commit burglary. For them, breaking into the twentieth floor was as easy as entering the first. After stealing, they would climb back down the same way. We staked out for thirty-six days before cracking the case. During the interrogation, the suspects claimed that their village chief had led them in climbing training, explaining that life in the mountains was too poor, and he had no other skills to help them escape poverty.
After thirty-six days without changing clothes or showering, my joints felt rusted. The day after completing the mission, I immediately organized a hockey game. The brothers in the Criminal Investigation Division donned skates and protective gear, splitting into two teams. I led one team, while Yang Bo led the other. Each team had six players, and we fiercely battled on the ice rink, our bodies colliding violently. This was not just a game; it was a hysterical release, with twelve loud voices echoing, causing our eardrums to buzz.
The ice skates glided swiftly across the surface, producing a crisp, pleasant sound. The puck darted forward, twisting and turning under the control of the sticks.
“Line! Line! Choose your line!” I shouted, straining my voice.
Gu Jing passed the puck to my stick, and I swung to shoot. Yang Bo made a beautiful save, gripping the puck tightly in his hands. Damn it! On the rink, this guy is my arch-nemesis.
The spectators cheered and banged on the railings. The spirit of competition filled every corner of the rink as I led my team in a corner attack, urging everyone to maintain formation.
The puck came to my feet again, and with a swift move, I shot it through the defender’s legs into the goal. The crowd whistled and cheered, some even throwing water bottles onto the ice.
Yang Bo rushed over and tackled me against the railing. I took off my helmet and asked, “Want to fight?”
“Sure!” Yang Bo replied decisively.
We tossed our helmets, sticks, and gloves onto the ice. The onlookers, excited and eager for a spectacle, rhythmically banged on the railings to cheer us on. Yang Bo and I engaged in a playful tussle. The goalies from our teams sat relaxed at the goalposts, watching us fight. We ended up tumbling over the railing, pulled apart by players and spectators.
I patted Yang Bo on the shoulder and said, “You’ve improved, brother!”
Yang Bo retorted, “With two more punches, I’d take you down.”
“Talk big! Watch out for the wind; you might just eat your words!” I shot back.
After leaving the rink, I headed to the sauna to expand my capillaries and rid myself of the accumulated grime from thirty-six days. Inside the steam room, the brothers were naked and sweating profusely, discussing the hockey game animatedly.
Gu Jing criticized Lin Hui, saying, “Your team’s players lifted their sticks too high and used their knees to push others. That’s not honorable.”
“Your team used elbows to shove and poked with sticks; no hand was idle,” Lin Hui shot back.
Yang Bo chimed in, “For our Criminal Investigation Division, the fights during the hockey game are the highlight; playing is just halftime.”
The men cheered, “Yes! That’s so true!”
The steam rolled off my face and dripped down to my chest as I leaned against the wooden wall, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Yang Bo nudged me and asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“What can I think about? I’ve been sitting in the cold for over a month, and my brain feels like an empty gourd.”
Without saying a word, Yang Bo scooped a handful of water and splashed it onto the hot stones. With a sizzling sound, a wave of heat rushed toward me. The thermometer on the wall shot up to fifty-five degrees Celsius. Unable to withstand the heat, I bolted out of the steam room, hearing that guy laughing behind me.
I dashed into the courtyard and jumped into the cold water pool with a splash. The seven-degree water temperature made my muscles contract, then slowly relax, allowing my blood to flow smoothly through my veins. I lay on my back, staring up at the sky. Large snowflakes drifted down, landing on my face. I shouted into the night sky, “Refreshing! So refreshing!”
Cheng Guo called me a fireman, saying, “You’re like a wind and fire wheel beneath your feet, with a charcoal stove in your heart. If someone struck a match behind you, you’d shoot up into the sky like a firework.”
Cheng Guo is my wife. She has a delicate appearance, looking petite and dainty, but when she gets angry, she can be quite formidable. We grew up in the same kindergarten and attended the same classes in elementary, middle, and high school. She never liked playing with girls, always trailing behind the boys. When we fought with kids from the neighboring courtyard, she would stand to the side, handing me bricks. This was one of the main reasons I liked her.
Cheng Guo’s affection for me began with my hands. She said my hands were more handsome than my face, sturdy with long fingers. They seemed pampered but were skillful. In winter, when I took her skiing, she would get cold quickly, and her hands would freeze. I would take off my gloves to warm her hands, and her icy little hands would gradually melt in my palm. Later, she said my hands were as hot as boiling liquor, sending warmth coursing through her body. That’s how I ended up marrying her without much thought.
Cheng Guo studied accounting at a financial and trade school. After graduating, she partnered with classmates to open a fabric shop, making sofa covers, curtains, and bedspreads, and the business was doing well. A year after we got married, we had a son. We named him Peng Cheng, combining our surnames. From the moment he could walk, I took him outdoors. We must eliminate any signs of weakness from childhood! He played hockey, speed skating, and soccer, and he excelled at all of them.
Being a police officer is like being a wall between good and evil, confronting the dark side of society. I cultivate informants and am familiar with the leaders of the underworld. My mother taught me from a young age, “You must never let anything toxic or harmful touch your lips!” So, I have never engaged in financial dealings with them. Xinqiao is my jurisdiction, the other side of the wall.
Here, the street vendors, stall owners, and breakfast sellers all know me well. Everyone, regardless of age, calls me Xinqiao Er Ge (Second Brother Xinqiao). I am not the second child in my family; they call me that based on the name of Guan Yu from the tale of the Three Brothers of the Peach Garden, which signifies loyalty, righteousness, and trustworthiness. I am straightforward and prefer to run straight down one path. I’m not very likable. But then again, I’m not a currency note; how could I expect everyone to like me?
After becoming a detective, my case-solving rate was high, and I received multiple awards. However, the dismemberment case at B Shui Garden ultimately led to my downfall.
On September 1, 2002, the toilet in the first unit of Building 5 at B Shui Garden was clogged, and dirty water began to bubble up from it. Old Pei was using a plunger to clear the toilet while cursing his wife for always dumping leftover food into it. Seeing that her husband was ineffective, his wife immediately called a professional. The plumber inserted a long tool deep into the toilet, plugged it in, and turned it on. The tool whirred to life, churning up clumps of greasy, minced meat. While he was clearing the blockage, the toilet continued to overflow.
“See? This isn’t leftover food; it’s minced meat dumped from upstairs,” the wife said, her back straightening.
Old Pei squatted down to take a closer look, muttering, “How long have we been living well? Just a few days, and you’ve lost your sense of direction, dumping good minced meat into the toilet.”
The plumber estimated, “It’s at least fifteen to twenty pounds. Hey, is that hair also in the toilet?”
He stopped, using a stick to poke through the minced meat, and a few pinkish pieces fell out. “What is this? It doesn’t look like household waste.”
Mrs. Pei whispered, “It looks like fingernails painted with pink nail polish.”
The plumber was taken aback and immediately dropped his tools, pulling out his phone to call the police. The 110 patrol officers arrived quickly. After a thorough investigation, they realized the situation was serious and promptly notified the Criminal Investigation Division.
Four people lived on the top floor of Building 5, led by a man named Deng Ligang, who stood at 1.85 meters tall, with thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a slightly dark complexion, looking strong and robust. Shi Bi was of average height, with slightly curly hair and fair skin. Song Hongyu was short, with a long ponytail reaching her waist. Ji Dashun was short and stout with thinning hair. They were dining at a nearby restaurant, enjoying spicy lamb spine hotpot and chilled beer. Ji Dashun, known for his fast eating, put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a napkin, saying, “I’ll go get some oil; you guys can take a taxi back.”
Song Hongyu shot him a glance, “Take a taxi? You’ll come back to pick us up.”
Ji Dashun replied, “The gas at the nearby station is expensive; I need to drive farther.”
Deng Ligang waved him off, “Don’t disappear again.”
Ji Dashun acknowledged and left.
Shi Bi silently drank beer while Deng Ligang frowned, finishing a piece of lamb spine and wiping his hands clean with a napkin.
“Let’s head back,” he said.
“There’s still so much left in the pot; no rush. Let’s finish eating before we go,” Song Hongyu said, stirring the bubbling Hotpot with her chopsticks.
Deng Ligang replied, “If the work isn’t done, I can’t relax.”
The three of them walked to the entrance of the B Shui Garden community and saw police tape blocking the entrance to Unit 1 of Building 5, with police cars parked nearby. They immediately stopped in their tracks, no longer advancing.
A crowd had gathered at the entrance, and words like “meat,” “hair,” and “nails” floated around. Deng Ligang calmly observed the surroundings. Two patrol officers from 110 were present—one guarding the crime scene and the other sitting in a car making a call. Deng Ligang instructed Shi Bi and Song Hongyu to wait behind Building 5 while he took advantage of the chaos to head upstairs. He bounded up the stairs two at a time.
I received the report and drove into the B Shui Garden community. Yang Bo and Ge Shoujia accompanied me to the scene. As the patrol officer briefed us on the situation, we entered the building.
Deng Ligang rushed to the top floor and entered Room 501. He quickly stuffed important items from the wardrobe and drawers into a large travel bag. He checked under the bedding to see if anything was left behind. Opening the wardrobe again, he confirmed it was empty. Deng Ligang took the travel bag to the back balcony, opened the window, and tossed the large bag down. Shi Bi and Song Hongyu, waiting below, immediately picked up the bag and left.
I surveyed the scene and instructed the team to retrieve any evidence left in the drain and hand it over to the forensic team for safekeeping. I decided to head upstairs, and as I reached the corner of the stairs on the second floor, I ran into Deng Ligang. He had his hands in his pockets and brushed past me. Instinctively, I stopped and called out, “Hey, do you live in this unit?”
“Who are you?” Deng Ligang frowned, clearly annoyed.
I pulled out my police badge to show him, and his expression softened as he casually replied, “I live on the third floor.”
“Which room?” I asked.
“301. Hey, what’s going on downstairs? It’s so lively?” He craned his neck to look down.
I focused on his face, and he returned my gaze without flinching. The thought crossed my mind that 301 and 102 did not share the same drainage pipe, but I didn’t answer his question and quickly walked upstairs. He headed down.
Shi Bi and Song Hongyu, carrying the travel bag, circled the front of Building 5. The patrol officer stepped out of the car and stopped them.
The patrol officer asked, “Are you residents of this building?”
“No, we live in the back in Building 3,” Shi Bi replied casually, his expression quite natural.
The patrol officer glanced at their travel bag, “Where are you headed?”
“We’re going on a five-day tour to Guangxi with a travel group,” Shi Bi said.
Song Hongyu complained, “You’re so slow; the tour guide said they’re just waiting for us.”
Shi Bi craned his neck to look into the entrance of Building 5, “What happened here?”
He saw Deng Ligang running out of the hallway, followed closely by Ge Shoujia in a police uniform. Song Hongyu’s heart raced, and she glanced at Shi Bi. Shi Bi slipped a hand into his pocket, tightly gripping a Swiss Army knife.
Ge Shoujia waved to the patrol officer, calling out, “Come here; I need to ask you something.”
The patrol officer let Song Hongyu and Shi Bi go, following Ge Shoujia into the hallway. Shi Bi and Song Hongyu immediately left Building 5, quickly walking toward the exit of the community. Deng Ligang quickened his pace, closely following them out of the B Shui Garden community.
Ji Dashun returned from refueling and, upon seeing police cars at the entrance, immediately turned around and parked in a spot behind the community. He kept the engine running, listening to the commotion inside.
Seeing Deng Ligang, Shi Bi, and Song Hongyu running around to the back of the community, Ji Dashun honked twice, pulled out of the parking space, and the three jumped into the car. Ji Dashun stepped on the gas, and the car sped away.
Deng Ligang patted Ji Dashun on the shoulder, praising him, “Dashun, your emergency response skills have improved.”
“Did we leave anything behind in the house?” Ji Dashun asked.
Shi Bi’s heart sank as he remembered that the item stuffed between the wardrobe and the bookshelf had fallen out.
Deng Ligang said, “Carelessness is a sharp axe that can lead to disaster. We must tread carefully with every step. Think carefully—did you leave anything in the room?”
“I cleaned up my things long ago,” Song Hongyu replied, gazing out the window.
Ji Dashun answered more decisively, “From head to toe, everything about me is real except for the rest. I didn’t leave anything that should be destroyed.”
Deng Ligang remarked, “Shi Bi is meticulous; he doesn’t need my reminders.”
Shi Bi shifted the topic, asking, “Do you think the officer who stopped you on the stairs will suspect you?”
Deng Ligang replied, “He didn’t suspect me at the time, but he will think back on it later.”
Upon reaching the top floor, I hadn’t yet felt that sense of foreboding. A strange odor wafted through the crack of the door to Room 502. I knocked, but no one answered. I kicked the door open.
The stench that filled the room was overwhelming. The bathroom door stood ajar, and the walls were splattered with blood. The floor was soaked with blood, and a lace bra and silk panties lay discarded. On the sink were a cleaver, a kitchen knife, and a large pair of pliers, with human bones chopped into segments neatly arranged beside them. Next to the bathtub, a meat grinder held unground chunks of flesh. Two fresh internal organs hung from the drying rack in the bathroom.
My spine tightened, and my scalp tingled as I caught a whiff of the foul odor and stepped into the kitchen. The gas was on, and a stainless steel pot sat on the stove, blue flames licking the bottom. The pungent smell emanated from that pot. Lifting the lid, I was met with two bare human heads bobbing in a thick broth, the flesh having boiled away in a mix of spices like Sichuan pepper and star anise. I had been to many murder scenes, but this was the first time I had encountered such a gruesome sight.
The detectives meticulously searched the crime scene while Ge Shoujia and I went door to door, asking questions. An elderly woman emerged from Room 301. She said, “It’s just the two of us at home; my husband has been paralyzed for four years and can’t get out of bed.”
Following the elderly woman into her bedroom, I saw her husband, who was nothing but skin and bones, lying in bed, looking at us with wide eyes.
“He can’t move; I take care of all his needs,” the elderly woman spoke in a flat tone.
“How many children do you have?” I asked.
“Two sons—one is doing business in Russia, and the other is dealing in furs in Hailar,” she replied.
I inquired, “The young man who just went downstairs to watch the commotion—what is he to you?”
The elderly woman paused for a moment, “Are you talking about just now?”
“Yeah.”
“No one from my house went out just now. Besides, I’m from another province and don’t have any relatives in Snow City.”
That taut nerve in my chest snapped, tying itself into a knot that weighed heavily on my heart. I should have slapped myself hard; the prime suspect had just swaggered past me without me noticing.
Ji Dashun’s car had already left the city and entered the toll station. The atmosphere in the car grew tense, and no one spoke. They all understood that if the police reacted quickly and alerted the checkpoints outside the city, they would have no way to escape. Deng Ligang shoved one hand into his bag, his eyes fixed on the toll collector, his body tense and ready to spring into action.
The female toll collector extended her hand through the window, holding a receipt, “Thirty.”
Ji Dashun handed her thirty yuan and took the receipt. The barrier lifted, allowing them to pass. Deng Ligang leaned back in his seat, pulling his hand out of the bag, revealing a gleaming cleaver.
He laughed and glanced at Shi Bi in the rearview mirror, saying, “That officer hasn’t caught on yet.”
I had caught on, but by the time I set the pursuit in motion, it was already too late. My eyes burned with anger, and my chest felt hot as I grabbed two ice cubes from the residents to cool down.
The bathroom walls bore two fingerprints, both male. No other useful clues were found. I was not ready to give up; I reopened the wardrobe and meticulously checked each compartment, still coming up empty. I stared intently at the large wardrobe, and when I couldn’t pry it open with my eyes, I used my hands. I braced myself against the wardrobe and pushed it hard. The bookshelf next to it wobbled slightly, and a small object fell into the gap. Picking it up, I found it was a driver’s license. Inside the license was a note with a phone number. The owner of the license was Shi Bi, twenty-eight years old, with an intellectual appearance.
Deng Ligang repeatedly ordered those around him to destroy any documents that could reveal their identities. Shi Bi, however, couldn’t bear to part with the hard-earned driver’s license and secretly kept it, hiding it whenever they moved, planning to take it with him when they left. He had done this many times without incident, but this time, the escape was too hurried, and he didn’t have the chance to retrieve it, leaving an important clue for the homicide team.
The homeowner was a middle-aged woman, thin as if she had been dried by the wind. She said, “This apartment is rented out for fifteen hundred yuan a month. The lease is for three months, and it hasn’t expired yet.” When asked about the rental paperwork, she said the tenant only left the name Li Jianfeng and an ID number, without a copy of the ID.
“What kind of person is he?” I asked Peng Zhaolin.
The landlady replied, “He’s about 1.8 meters tall, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, quite sturdy, with a Snow City accent.”
“Who lived with him here?”
“He said he lived alone.”
The ID number’s registered address was on the outskirts of Snow City. After checking the household registration, I found Li Jianfeng’s phone number. I dialed the number. Li Jianfeng had a poor attitude, immediately asking, “Who are you?”
“I’m from the Public Security Bureau,” I replied.
He cursed, “Get the hell away from me! Who do you think you’re scaring with the Public Security Bureau?”
“I’m a police officer!” I insisted.
“What’s so special about being a police officer?” he shouted.
I was furious, hung up the phone, and drove straight to the outskirts.
Forty-year-old Li Jianfeng was wearing a tattered autumn shirt, chopping wood with an axe at his door. When he saw a car parked in front of his yard, he straightened up to look. I pushed the door open and entered the yard, showing my credentials to Li Jianfeng.
“I’m the police officer; I drove over to hear you curse,” I said.
Li Jianfeng immediately backed down, pleading, “I’ve got a bunch of debt collectors behind me, and life’s been tough. I thought I was dealing with a phone scam and vented my frustrations over the phone.”
I asked him, “Do you have your ID on you?”
“I lost it; it’s been missing for years.”
I didn’t bother arguing with him further and sought out the village committee head and the local beat officer. After a thorough investigation, we confirmed that Li Jianfeng did not have the opportunity to commit the crime, eliminating him as a suspect.
At the crime scene, two female internal organs were found. We quickly checked local coffee shops, hotels, inns, foot massage parlors, and internet cafes for any missing women. The news came back quickly: three women were reported missing from the Green Island Hotel in Snow City. One was named Liu Xinyuan, another Huang Ying, and the last one had the surname Song. None of them had identification and their families were unknown.
I rushed to the Green Island Hotel, where I reviewed the surveillance footage of Liu Xinyuan, Huang Ying, and a woman with the surname Song. The three of them were seen laughing and walking out of the hotel lobby. I paused the video; Liu Xinyuan was voluptuous, the woman with the surname Song had long hair down to her waist, and Huang Ying was shorter, wearing a silver bracelet inlaid with red agate on her left wrist.
The hotel security reported that a burly man had come to the hotel several times looking for Miss Song. The surveillance footage captured his profile; he was the same man who had brushed past me on the stairs at B Shui Garden!
I printed the video stills and tucked them away. One of the fingerprints matched that of Deng Ligang, who had a criminal record for assault five years ago at the police station. Recognizing him from the photo, I realized he was the knot in my mind. After the landlord carefully identified the photo, she confirmed he was the tenant, Li Jianfeng.
The phone number found on the driver’s license was answered by a man named Liu Liang. He was Liu Xinyuan’s father, working in the security department of a factory in Jibei City. Three days ago, he received a call from his daughter, who was crying and begging for money, saying she had been beaten and needed help. Liu Liang, afraid to report it to the police, frantically raised money and sent seventy thousand yuan over three days. After receiving my call, he took the night train to Snow City, standing the entire night because he couldn’t get a seat.
I showed him the clothing and jewelry found at the scene, but Liu Liang couldn’t confirm if any belonged to his daughter. I told him we needed to conduct a DNA test. “What’s that for?” he asked.
“To confirm the relationship between the deceased and their relatives,” I explained.
Liu Liang looked as if he had been struck by a heavy blow, his legs nearly giving way beneath him. He gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, his voice trembling as he asked, “Is my daughter gone?”
“To confirm if it’s her, we must do a paternity test,” I said.
“I know my daughter,” Liu Liang insisted, struggling to get the words out.
I remained silent, unsure how to convey that only internal organs remained.
Liu Liang seemed to be comforting himself, muttering, “I know it’s not Xinyuan; it’s a hundred percent not her!”
Two girls working at the Green Island Hotel came to the Public Security Bureau’s evidence room to identify the belongings found at the B Shui Garden dismemberment scene. One girl recognized Huang Ying’s clothing and jewelry, saying, “We lived in the same dorm; I know her things.” Another girl who lived with Liu Xinyuan confirmed her clothing. The woman with the surname Song was unfamiliar to everyone, and no one knew which items belonged to her.
The DNA test results for Liu Liang came back, and the staff handed the report to Peng Zhaolin.
The report stated: “In 15 STR gene groups, there are no mismatched genotypes; therefore, the paternity relationship cannot be excluded.” Liu Liang asked Peng Zhaolin, “What does it say?”
“It states that one of the two sets of internal organs belongs to your daughter, Liu Xinyuan,” Peng Zhaolin said, trying to soften his tone.
Liu Liang swayed slightly and then collapsed. There was no way to trace Huang Ying’s relatives, and no one was there to take care of her. Liu Liang said the two sisters had died together, at least they would have each other in the afterlife. He took the two sets of internal organs, had them cremated, and placed them in a white urn to take home for burial. When Liu Liang left, I accompanied him to the train station. He looked heartbroken, one hand clutching the white urn and the other tightly gripping my hand.
I understood his meaning and said, “I promise you, as long as I have breath in me, I will solve this major case!”
Three women had disappeared simultaneously, and two of the deceased had been confirmed. Song Hongyu was still missing; if she had been kidnapped, it meant they had left a live hostage for future use. Otherwise, she was an accomplice. Regardless, we had to find her. The hotel security mentioned that the woman with the surname Song had a strong Huayuan accent. I immediately contacted the Huayuan Public Security Bureau for a thorough investigation. The feedback revealed that the woman named Song Hongyu had been working in another province, her mother had passed away, and she only had her father and younger brother at home. There had been no contact with her family recently.
I buried myself in the case, not returning home for ten consecutive days. Cheng Guo didn’t call me once. The dismemberment case in Snow City was on the news. She knew I was busy. When I finally got home, I took a shower. Instantly, I felt weak all over, collapsing onto the sofa. Peng Cheng shifted forward a bit to give me some space. This kid was completely absorbed in his video game. I reached out to ruffle his hair, but he dodged my hand.
The aroma of food wafting from the kitchen activated my taste buds, and my stomach rumbled.
“Peng Zhaolin, get the bowls and chopsticks ready for dinner,” Cheng Guo called from the kitchen.
I found it strange; from the moment I entered, took a shower, and lay on the sofa, I hadn’t said a word. How did she know I was back? I got up and walked into the kitchen, where Cheng Guo was cooking in an apron. She said, “You can’t even lift your feet to walk; you’re dragging yourself along the ground.”
She turned to look at me and said, “Hey? Why are you looking so haggard? Didn’t get enough sleep?”
I picked up a cucumber end from the cutting board and chewed on it.
I asked her, “I haven’t been home for ten days, and you didn’t call me once. What’s going on in your mind?”
“You’re preoccupied with the major case at B Shui Garden. How could there be room for us?” She didn’t even lift her eyelids while speaking.
“Is that a complaint?” I asked.
“Can’t I complain?” she shot back, rolling her eyes.
I said, “Sure, but can complaints help us get through life?”
Cheng Guo pondered for a moment, then shook her head and said, “You’re right; since complaints can’t be used to command a man, why should I hold onto them?”
I pulled her into my arms, gritting my teeth as I said, “When my wife speaks, it’s always so chewy and satisfying.”
“Let go,” Cheng Guo struggled.
Let go? This was just the beginning! I tightened my arms, making her squeal.
Our son rushed into the kitchen, staring wide-eyed at me. I sheepishly released my grip. Cheng Guo ladled soup from the clay pot, blowing on it to cool it down before offering it to me to taste.
“It’s bland,” I said, smacking my lips. Cheng Guo added a bit of salt to the pot. I reached out to pat my son’s head and said, “Behind every officer like us, there should be a woman like your mom who takes charge of everything.” Peng Cheng brushed my hand away unceremoniously and said, “You take charge, saying you’ll help me improve my short-track speed skating, but you don’t follow through.” “Is the competition over?” I asked. Peng Cheng rolled his eyes at me and walked away. Cheng Guo whispered to me, “He didn’t make it to the finals.”
The table was set with three dishes and a soup. Cheng Guo was still busy in the kitchen, while my son and I sat at the dining table waiting for dinner. Using two chopsticks as props, I explained the key points of short-track speed skating to Peng Cheng. He listened intently, his eyes fixed on me.
I said, “To increase speed, you must enhance your physical training, build endurance with long-distance running, and improve explosive speed with sprints. Also, the start is crucial; pay attention to technique. In the standard starting position, squat down on one leg.”
Theory alone wasn’t enough, so I stood up to demonstrate for my son. Peng Cheng learned earnestly, and we both bent our knees and practiced the moves on the floor.
Cheng Guo came in with a bowl of braised pork. “Are you tripping over yourselves? Time to eat!” The table now had four dishes and a soup, with the meat in the large bowl looking glossy and aromatic. My son picked up a piece and chewed it happily.
“Is it good?” Cheng Guo asked.
Peng Cheng picked up a second piece and said, “Mom, it would be even better if it were a bit sweeter.”
Suddenly, the bloody scene from Room 502 at Bihui Garden flashed in my mind. My stomach churned, and I couldn’t hold it in. I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.
Cheng Guo noticed my pale face and asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Is your stomach upset?”
I gritted my teeth and said, “I think I need to give up meat.”
The dismemberment case at Bihui Garden was named the 1103 Major Case. One of the key clues was the driver’s license. After investigation, the license was not forged. Shi Bi was from Xuecheng, a university graduate. He had worked as an assistant engineer at a large factory but was fired for stealing and selling the factory’s cables. The person he interacted with the most was Deng Ligang. Before Deng Ligang was detained, he was also a worker at this factory. The two partnered in business and were often away from Xuecheng. This guy was elusive, rarely home, and his brother Deng Liqun was serving a sentence for robbery. Their mentally unstable mother was the only one at home and unable to answer questions.
The second important clue was the bank card Liu Liang used to transfer money. This card was issued using Li Jianfeng’s ID, and there was still 100,000 yuan in it. The main motive for the crime was money, and I was sure they wouldn’t easily give up on this sum. I set a trap. We monitored the landlines of Deng Ligang and Song Hongyu’s families.
The bank’s surveillance information quickly came back. Someone withdrew money using this card in Zhangjiakou. I sprang up like a spring, ran to the door, then turned back. It was Saturday. We had to wait until Monday for the bureau leaders to meet and approve the operation, decide on the number of people, approve the funds, and get the finance department to sign off. This whole process couldn’t miss a single step. I was so anxious that my throat felt dry, and I couldn’t move.
The snow fell silently, and the heavens were unhurried. I was restless, so I went out for a long run in the snow. The breath from my nose and mouth formed a layer of frost on my eyebrows, eyelashes, and woolen hat. After running ten kilometers, the fire in my heart still burned. I pushed open the door of a roadside convenience store. There were no customers inside, and the owner was watching TV with great interest. The TV was showing the drama “Black Hole.”
“Boss, do you have anything cold?”
“Ice cream, cold beer,” the owner said.
“My throat is dry; I want some ice water.”
“How about this, you buy a bottle of mineral water, and I’ll get you some ice cubes,” the owner offered.
I put two yuan on the table. The owner handed me a bottle of mineral water and a paper cup of ice cubes.
I left the mineral water behind and took the ice cubes with me. The owner chased after me, but I waved him off, and he understood, retreating inside. As I walked, I crunched on the ice cubes, and the burning in my chest subsided.
After completing all the procedures, I led five people from Xuecheng to Beijing by train and then transferred to Zhangjiakou. Four days had passed. We contacted the bank and reviewed the ATM footage. Shi Bi and an unfamiliar man were taking turns using the card at two ATMs. I printed their photos and carried them with me. Upon investigation, the unfamiliar face was identified as Ji Dashun, also from Xuecheng. He had also worked at a factory. We initially judged that this criminal group had at least three male members.
The bank card reached Tianjin, and I immediately pursued it there, only to come up empty-handed. The criminals were cunning, and Deng Ligang, like a fox with a keen sense of danger, sensed the threat and escaped with the loot just in time. The money dwindled bit by bit. The card reached Shanghai, and I chased it there. Then to Zhenjiang, then to Suzhou, circling the Yangtze River Delta. With only 3,000 yuan left in the card, my team and I stayed up, watching several ATMs for three days without any activity. Sitting in a Suzhou basement, we ate instant noodles and discussed the case. With only 3,000 yuan left on the card, I asked my team, “Do you think they’ll risk taking it?”
Gu Jing shook his head vigorously. “If it were me, I wouldn’t take it.”
“What about you?” I asked Yang Bo.
Yang Bo replied confidently, “I’d take it, but not immediately.”
“Do you think they’re still in Suzhou?”
“Three hours ago, they withdrew 20,000 yuan here. They wouldn’t leave so quickly,” Ge Shoujia said.
We didn’t know that Deng Ligang’s group had already left. They were in Wuxi, 50 kilometers from Suzhou, eating at a restaurant. Wuxi’s braised ribs, stuffed gluten, eel paste, Taihu’s three whites, Wuxi dumplings, and shepherd’s purse wontons. These bastards were eating with greasy mouths. Deng Ligang was quite pleased with their successful escape. He picked his teeth with a toothpick and asked the same question I had just asked.
“Should we take the remaining 3,000 yuan from the card?”
“Even a small grasshopper is still meat,” Shi Bi answered tactfully.
Deng Ligang patted Ji Dashun on the shoulder, signaling him to look at the ATM at the restaurant entrance. Ji Dashun understood, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and went out. He cleared the card at the ATM, taking the last 3,000 yuan.
Five minutes later, I received a call from the bank, and I was furious. Withdrawing 5,000 at a time, how many times did they have to do it to get 100,000?! I had twenty chances to catch them, but due to a lack of manpower, I watched them slip through the net. This cross-province pursuit failed once again.
A smoldering anger burned in my stomach, and my mouth was full of blisters. The Spring Festival of 2003 was approaching, and Xiao Zhu, who was in charge of technical surveillance, complained that he didn’t want to monitor anymore. I quickly brought a bag of food to accompany him.
Xiao Zhu had his feet up on the table, staring at the equipment in front of him. When he saw me come in, he put his feet down.
“Haven’t eaten yet?” I asked.
He said, “I’ll just have a bowl of instant noodles later.”
I took out a bottle of white wine, a braised pork knuckle, pine nut sausage, and a bag of pickled cucumbers from the bag.
“Forget the instant noodles. These are all made by my wife. Try them.”
Xiao Zhu’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food. He grabbed a piece of braised pork knuckle and stuffed it into his mouth, exclaiming how delicious it was.
“Is your wife a chef at a restaurant?”
“Not a chef. She honed her skills cooking for me and our son.”
“My wife can even burn porridge,” Xiao Zhu lamented.
“What does your wife do?”
“She’s a primary school teacher.”
“Then you don’t need to hire a tutor for your kids.”
“What kids? We just got married a month before I was assigned here. I’ve been here for months, and the gap is as long as the time I’ve been here. My wife complains on the phone, and I need a break both mentally and physically.”
I poured him a glass of wine. “Hang in there, brother.”
He said, “What’s the use of me hanging in there? There’s no movement from the surveillance. Someone else should take over.”
“Your technical team can’t spare anyone.”
Xiao Zhu didn’t want to talk, lowering his eyes and chewing on the pork knuckle. The atmosphere in the room was a bit tense.
“Come on, have a drink,” I said.
He picked up his glass and clinked it with mine, and we both drank.
I bit into a pickled cucumber and asked him, “You’re not from Xuecheng, are you?”
“I’m from Chifeng.”
“Chifeng is named after a reddish peak in the northeast corner of the city, right?”
“That’s right. You know a lot, brother.” Mentioning his hometown softened Xiao Zhu’s mood.
“I’ve been a cop longer than you, and I’ve been a husband longer too. My wife and I grew up in the same daycare, so we know each other well. Even so, we still have to adjust after marriage,” I said honestly.
Xiao Zhu asked, “How’s the adjustment going?”
“Still not perfectly aligned,” I admitted.
Xiao Zhu sighed, “It’s almost New Year’s, and my wife keeps emphasizing that this is our first Spring Festival together, and it can’t be left blank.”
“Why so absolute? Xiao Zhu, you’re a big guy, why are you fussing over whether it’s the first or second? Have you thought about it? Criminals are people too, and they want to go home for the New Year. The closer it gets to this time, the more we need to stay vigilant. I won’t go home for the Spring Festival either; I’ll stay here with you. I’ll apply to the bureau leaders to give you extra days off later, and you can take your wife on a trip.”
Xiao Zhu could hold his liquor better than me, and his face got paler as he drank. He asked, “What’s your relationship with the bureau leaders to speak so boldly?”
I said, “Don’t worry. Even if I have to kneel and grind my knees, I’ll get you a few days off.”
Xiao Zhu laughed, “You’re the second brother of Xinqiao, I believe you.”
The snow in Xuecheng fell heavily, a foot deep, but it didn’t stop people from shopping for the New Year. The shops along the streets were bustling. People carried large and small bags in and out. Cheng Guo’s fabric store was also crowded, with various bedding items on the shelves being picked up and chosen. Young people preparing to get married selected bed sheets and covers. Those who bought new houses chose curtain and sofa fabric. Cheng Guo and a female clerk were busy, and since Peng Cheng was on winter break and no one was home, Cheng Guo brought him to the store to do his homework behind the counter. After work, she took him home.
On the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month, Cheng Guo was in the kitchen cooking meat and steaming flower buns, preparing for the New Year. She assigned me to chop meat stuffing in the kitchen. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just buy ready-made meat stuffing instead of buying meat to chop.
She answered bluntly, “It’s reassuring to wash the meat at home before chopping it.”
As I chopped the stuffing, I pondered when to bring up what I wanted to say. I put the chopped meat into a bowl.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Nothing else, your task is done.”
“Then can I discuss something with you?”
“Don’t tell me you’re on duty on New Year’s Eve,” Cheng Guo cornered me with one sentence.
I blinked at her.
Cheng Guo put down her work, turned to me, and said, “I asked around, and you’re not on duty this New Year’s Eve.”
“I’m not on duty,” I replied honestly.
Cheng Guo looked at me, waiting for me to continue.
“I left Xiao Zhu from technical surveillance to monitor, and I promised to accompany him on New Year’s Eve,” I said.
“That’s his job, why the fuss?” Cheng Guo was angry.
“Xiao Zhu just got married, and I’ve kept him here for months without going home.”
“Your words are so soft,” Cheng Guo said with a sarcastic smile.
“He’s not from the criminal police team, so I can’t be tough.”
“Are my son and I part of your criminal police team?” she glared at me.
I didn’t dare to respond, just blinked at her.
Cheng Guo said, “I held the house and raised our son alone. Am I tough enough?”
“Do we have to bring this up every year?” I asked.
“Have you ever let me enjoy a New Year?” she retorted.
Her words made me feel guilty, and I swallowed what I wanted to say.
Cheng Guo, still angry, said, “Since I’ve spoiled you, I don’t expect you to change. Do as you please, fly wherever you want for the New Year. I’ll take our son to my mother’s.”
“Isn’t your mom at your sister’s?” I asked foolishly.
Cheng Guo rolled her eyes at me, “Yes, I’m going to Weihai for the New Year, so what?”
With that, she took off her apron, threw it on the counter, and walked out.
Three thousand four hundred kilometers away in Yanhui City, the winter rain painted a completely different scene. The bluestone roads in the alleys were slick and shiny from the rain. The New Year atmosphere in Yanhui City was vibrant, with residents along the streets leaving their doors open. Passersby could catch a glimpse of people inside making wife cakes, sesame cakes, money cakes, and fried rice cakes.
Deng Ligang and his group of four had just completed a kidnapping in the city, each playing their part in wrapping up the operation. Ji Dashun emerged from an alley, carrying two bulging black plastic bags. The alley was long, with many side streets, and lined with various shops. Ji Dashun stopped at the entrance of a bone restaurant, emptied one of the bags onto the pile of bones outside, mixed it with his foot, and walked away. Shi Bi came out from the other end of the alley, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a black plastic bag. He walked slowly, head down, and turned into a side street.
Deep in the alley, the red, white, and blue lights of a hair salon spun outside its open door, where women sat on benches waiting for their turn. The salon assistant swept the cut hair outside into a pile. Shi Bi casually hung his black plastic bag on the broom at the door. No one noticed his comings and goings. After walking a distance, he looked back and saw the hair collector at the door, greeting the shop owner. The collector swept the hair into a bag and, as he was about to leave, noticed the black plastic bag hanging on the broom. Seeing that the owner wasn’t paying attention, he quietly took it down and peeked inside. The bag contained a long, black braid. Delighted, he quickly stuffed it back into the bag and left with the collected hair.
Deng Ligang returned from the street and spotted Ji Dashun following a garbage truck with a plastic bag. Deng immediately understood what Ji was up to and stopped to watch. The garbage truck halted, and the driver got out to load roadside bins onto the truck. As the truck moved slowly, Ji Dashun hurriedly tossed his garbage bag onto the roof. The bag wobbled and fell off. Ji picked it up, chased the truck, and threw it back on. Dusting off his hands, he walked away as if nothing had happened.
Cursing under his breath, Deng Ligang ran after the truck. With the garbage truck in between, Ji Dashun didn’t see him. The truck sped up, and Deng kicked a bicycle aside, jumped on, and pedaled furiously after the truck, keeping an eye on the black plastic bag on top. As the truck turned, the bag wobbled and fell onto the road, bouncing to the curb. Deng jumped off the bike, picked up the bag, and walked away without looking back. The bicycle lay on the roadside, its wheel spinning slowly to a stop.
Shi Bi was finishing the last task, wearing rubber gloves and spraying disinfectant on the tiled walls. The bathtub and floor were already clean. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and left the bathroom. Song Hongyu was in the kitchen, washing and chopping vegetables. Ji Dashun entered, watching her cook.
“I just walked around the street and found out that for New Year, people here have to have rice cakes, red fermented chicken, fish balls, and meat swallows. The first bite of the New Year’s Eve dinner should be the Emperor’s vegetable, which is spinach. Noodles soaked in red fermented chicken soup with two eggs on top are called ‘peace noodles’ for safety. Should we make some too?” Ji Dashun suggested.
Deng Ligang entered with a dark expression, grabbed Ji Dashun by the collar, and dragged him out of the kitchen. Song Hongyu, not knowing what was happening, followed them. A round, bulging black plastic bag lay on the living room floor. Ji Dashun immediately realized the jig was up and hung his head in silence.
Deng Ligang lowered his voice and cursed, “You tried to shove a whole skull into a garbage truck. Are you trying to get me killed?”
Ji Dashun mumbled, “I thought…”
Deng slapped him hard, sending him crashing into the wall, then kicked him viciously. Ji Dashun clutched his ribs and slumped to the floor.
Shi Bi came over, picked up the black plastic bag, and said, “I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s his mess; he cleans it up!” Deng Ligang insisted.
Shi Bi glanced at Ji Dashun and said, “His ribs might be broken.”
“As long as he’s breathing, he has to clean up his mess,” Deng Ligang retorted.
Ji Dashun struggled to his feet, clutching his ribs with one hand and taking the black plastic bag with the other, heading to the bathroom.
Shi Bi remarked, “That kick was a bit harsh.”
Deng Ligang cursed, “Kicking him was light. I want to crack open his skull to see if it’s filled with brains or pig slop.”
New Year’s Eve arrived in no time. I returned from a business trip and went straight to the tech surveillance office to spend the night with Xiao Zhu, keeping my promise despite the cold war with my wife. Xiao Zhu was flipping through a police magazine, bored. When he saw me with a large canvas bag, his eyes lit up.
“Hey, you came!”
“A man of his word,” I joked.
Xiao Zhu said, “My wife just smashed my phone.”
“I understand; we’ve all been there.”
I opened the bag and took out several containers of braised dishes and a bottle of white wine.
“How did your wife let you out?”
“Simple, she took our son to Weihai.”
Xiao Zhu nodded. I found two paper cups and poured the wine.
“My wife has a big heart; she doesn’t act like a typical woman in these matters.”
Xiao Zhu took a sip, waiting for me to continue.
I held up four fingers. “We shared a bed in daycare when we were four.”
“Living together so young?”
“Isn’t that a strong bond?”
I laughed and turned on the TV. The news was on. There was a knock at the door. Xiao Zhu opened it to find Cheng Guo and Peng Cheng standing there with bags. Xiao Zhu didn’t recognize them and was stunned. For a moment, my mind went blank too.
Cheng Guo said to our son, “Peng Cheng, greet Uncle.”
“Happy New Year, Uncle!” My son bowed to Xiao Zhu.
Xiao Zhu looked at Cheng Guo and then at me, confused.
I snapped out of it, feeling a burst of joy, and took the bags from my wife.
“My wife and son. What are you staring at? Help out!” I said proudly.
Xiao Zhu quickly helped set the table.
I whispered to Cheng Guo, “Did you return the tickets?”
Cheng Guo whispered back through gritted teeth, “I never bought them.”
I chuckled, and Cheng Guo pinched me secretly. I asked loudly, “What’s in the dumplings?”
“Pork and sauerkraut, chive shrimp and egg, just out of the pot. Eat while they’re hot.”
The table was set with eight dishes, including chicken and fish, symbolizing prosperity. Xiao Zhu ate happily, temporarily forgetting his wife’s anger. My mind wasn’t on the meal; I was focused on the surveillance equipment, but Deng Ligang’s phone remained silent.
On TV, Zhao Benshan and Gao Xiumin’s skit “Heart Disease” had my wife and son laughing heartily. I watched Cheng Guo’s smiling face and felt a deep love for her. Despite her tough exterior, she was wise and kind when it mattered most. This was my wife, and I loved her unconditionally.
After dinner, Xiao Zhu sat at the surveillance station with headphones on, and I stood behind him. The monitoring equipment was still.
In Yanhui City, fireworks lit up the night sky, casting a red glow on people’s faces. Song Hongyu, missing her hometown of Huayuan, had no appetite.
“I want to call home,” she said.
Deng Ligang immediately took out his phone. “I’ll call for you.”
He dialed and put the phone to his ear. “Hello, Dad, Happy New Year! How’s everyone at home?”
Song Hongyu grabbed the phone. “Dad, have you and my brother eaten dumplings?”
There was no response from the other end.
“Hello? Hello?” Song Hongyu thought the call had dropped.
Deng Ligang took the phone from her and placed it on the table. Only then did Song Hongyu realize the call hadn’t been made.
“I’ve told you countless times, that you can miss home, but you can’t make calls,” Deng Ligang said sternly.
“Boss, you’re too cautious,” Ji Dashun muttered.
“If the police aren’t tapping the phone, I’ll eat my hat,” Deng Ligang said, glaring.
Deng Ligang was like an old doctor, accurately gauging my pulse. He remained silent and motionless, making the New Year feel dead. I was obsessed, thinking about him day and night, analyzing him from every angle. This guy was full of bad habits, but his only soft spot was family. His father died early, his mother had mental issues, and his only brother was due to be released from prison in April. I hoped he would visit his brother, who had served four years. I staked out near the prison and Deng’s home for days, but the old fox slipped away again.
Secrets have two sides: either you control them, or they control you. I couldn’t track Deng Ligang, and he never slipped up while evading my pursuit.
Determined, I decided to outlast him. Cheng Guo asked what the outcome would be. I said, “A metal pestle can be ground into a needle, but a wooden pestle will only become a toothpick. Let’s see what I’m made of.”