He Yunqin called a servant in to stoke the fire higher, and once the servants had withdrawn, he said to Yu Chongyi: “What Elder Brother says is exactly what I was thinking. But the case happened eleven years ago, and all the relevant evidence has long since vanished. Reverend Yan paid with his own life just to restore the truth to this extent. Making the truth public through official channels is simply impossible. But if we want to bring this matter before the public, there are other ways to do it. This letter isn’t finished yet — let’s read through the section about Bai Fengfei first, and then we’ll carefully plan our next move.”
Everyone nodded silently in agreement.
After Deng Guizhuang hanged himself, Reverend Yan urgently sought Bai Fengfei’s whereabouts. But this woman had always been cunning — seeing Yang Yutian, Xu Yishan, and Fu Zixiao all lose their lives one after another, she had already guessed the matter was connected to Ding Qi and Miss Pan. With Wang Bide and the others investigating the case, the murderer would surely be found sooner or later. Fortunately, with everyone from back then dead, there was no one left to bear witness against her — as long as she flatly denied everything, who could possibly do anything to her? Until the murderer was caught, she decided to hide first to save her own life.
Just as Reverend Yan was searching for Bai Fengfei in vain, heaven itself seemed to intervene — that person from Nanjing actually came to Shanghai to hear Bai Fengfei perform.
Reverend Yan saw this news in the papers and knew he had to get into the theater before security was tightened, so even though Bai Fengfei wasn’t due to perform until the next day, he went to Keyu Theater a day early.
His mind was sharp enough to realize that if Deng Guizhuang could figure out he was Ding Qi’s father, then Inspector Wang could certainly trace it back to him as well. Now that Bai Fengfei, hidden for so long, had finally shown herself, if Inspector Wang suspected him of being the murderer, he might send men to stake out his residence ahead of time.
So he had his old family servant put on his long robe, style his hair the same way, go to his bedroom the night before to read and rest, and the next day go to the study to hold a pen and pretend to be writing — all to mislead Inspector Wang’s men.
The old servant had been with the Yan family for many years and had personally witnessed the suffering his master had endured over these eleven years. Although the professor had never said so explicitly, the servant had long since guessed that his master was investigating something about the young miss, and naturally cooperated without question.
Wang Bide, having already worked this part out himself, sighed and said: “No wonder the men we sent didn’t notice anything wrong the entire next day — Reverend Yan had already left his residence the day before. But truly, Reverend Yan worried too much — if I’d known the whole story from the start, whether I would have stopped him is another matter entirely. In any case, I’ve never had much of a sense of good and evil myself. Bai Fengfei killed two people — she deserved to die long ago. If Reverend Yan hadn’t sought justice himself, the law would never have been able to touch her.”
He Yunqin made no comment on this remark, and continued: “Reverend Yan entered the theater the day before under the guise of being a fan, and while the theater was at its busiest, slipped into the back courtyard. That night, after the theater had been cleared out, can you guess where Reverend Yan hid?”
Where in the theater was the most secluded? Hongdou pondered this for a while, then answered tentatively: “If it were me waiting for a chance to kill Bai Fengfei, I’d definitely find the safest possible place. Could it be… Yang Yutian’s old courtyard?”
The others were startled. Yu Chongyi nodded: “Reverend Yan hid in the theater an entire night without the troupe noticing. I puzzled over this for a long while tonight and couldn’t figure it out. So that’s how it was.”
He Yunqin, looking at the letter, said: “Ever since Yang Yutian died, no one from the troupe dared go near that place — which, all things considered, made it the safest hiding spot in Keyu Theater. Reverend Yan brought the tools, clothing, letter, and poison he’d prepared, and slept a night in Yang Yutian’s room. By the afternoon of the next day, Bai Fengfei indeed arrived at the theater. Seeing his chance had come, Reverend Yan, while everyone in the theater was busy preparing for the debut of another star, Xiao Jinrong, carried a tea tray and knocked on Bai Fengfei’s door.
Bai Fengfei, extremely wary, immediately asked who it was. Reverend Yan said he was bringing tea to soothe her throat. Like Fu Zixiao, Bai Fengfei’s recent suspicions had centered on Deng Guizhuang, but she did not yet know of his suicide, and knowing that security both inside and outside the theater had already been tightened in preparation for the visitor from Nanjing, and hearing that the voice belonged to an old man, she relaxed her guard and opened the door.
The moment Reverend Yan entered, he used a handkerchief to knock Bai Fengfei unconscious. When she came to, she was first terrified and trembling, then kicked and thrashed wildly while hanging from the beam, then glared at him with hatred, and when that proved useless, dissolved into tearful pleading for mercy. In short, she tried every trick imaginable.
Reverend Yan recounted once more the truth he had pieced together and deduced — confirmed by the several murderers and Deng Guizhuang’s memories, the truth had been almost entirely reconstructed. Only one final puzzle remained to be confirmed with Bai Fengfei — if Miss Pan had been killed for stumbling upon the scene of them dividing the loot, why had his daughter Ding Qi also fallen victim to their hands? And why had nothing happened that same night, only for her to be murdered six days later?
How could Bai Fengfei bring herself to reveal the truth? Reverend Yan slowly laid out his own deduction: Ding Qi, going to find Deng Guizhuang, had inadvertently seen the four of them entering the girls’ middle school. Though she hadn’t witnessed the actual murder scene, as she left, one of the four had noticed her presence. Deng Guizhuang, young and naive at the time, hadn’t seen through Bai Fengfei’s schemes — only in hindsight did he realize just how many misunderstandings Bai Fengfei had deliberately manufactured between him and Ding Qi over the years.
Therefore, among the four, only she, Bai Fengfei, because of her contact with Deng Guizhuang, had a deep enough impression of Ding Qi’s appearance. Given how dark it was at the time, the only person who could have recognized the girl on campus by a mere glimpse of her back was Bai Fengfei. And the reason his daughter was murdered several days later was precisely because she, Bai Fengfei, had told the others about it.
If the chief culprit behind these two tragedies was Fu Zixiao, then Bai Fengfei was the one directly responsible for his daughter’s death.
Reverend Yan asked her what kind of heart she must have, that she could conceive murderous intent from nothing more than a vague glimpse of someone’s back. Aside from fearing exposure and wanting to silence a witness, wasn’t it also because of a long-simmering jealousy toward Ding Qi over Deng Guizhuang? To manipulate circumstances and kill with a borrowed hand — for her, Bai Fengfei, to have accomplished this so skillfully at such a young age — wasn’t she simply born evil?
Hearing this, Bai Fengfei’s eyes flickered evasively. Reverend Yan, his hatred so intense it felt as though he were weeping blood, tightened the rope around Bai Fengfei’s neck at an agonizingly slow pace. Bai Fengfei struggled for a long while, suffering unbearably, and in her terror lost control of her bladder and bowels. Reverend Yan then took out a confession he had prepared in advance, seized her bound hand, and forced her to sign and mark it.
After Bai Fengfei breathed her last, Reverend Yan finished writing this section of the letter, then calmly swallowed poison and ended his own life.
Everyone in the room fell silent.
After some unknown span of time, Hongdou wiped the tears from her cheeks, stood up, and took the confession letter from He Yunqin’s hands, presenting it for everyone to see.
Gu Yun’s tear tracks had already dried, but her voice was still hoarse. Having read the contents of the letter, she shook her head calmly and said: “Bai Fengfei has already been murdered. Even if this confession is made public, others will only think it was planted by the murderer to shift blame, and will surely refuse to believe it. Reverend Yan surely understood this as well — that’s why he didn’t entrust this task to anyone before he died.”
Hongdou said bitterly: “Reverend Yan has already avenged his great wrong, and had long since set aside all thought of what would happen after his death. But I cannot bear for Reverend Yan to carry the reputation of a murderous fiend. We must find some way to bring the truth to light — I refuse to believe there’s no way.”
The hall fell silent once more. Raindrops dripped steadily from the eaves onto the cement pavement before the parlor door, the night rain growing heavier, the parasol trees rustling. A cold, damp chill quietly spread through the room.
In the stillness, the Western clock in the corner began to chime — dong, dong, dong, dong — ringing nine times before stopping. Only then did Hongdou realize it was already nine o’clock.
“It’s this late already.”
A servant came in from outside: “Second Young Master, Second Young Madam, a car from the Gu residence has arrived.”
Gu Yun rose and said solemnly to Hongdou: “I’ll come again tomorrow to discuss this with you all. You and I are both Reverend Yan’s students, and as the saying goes, once a teacher, forever like a father — we, his students, cannot shirk this responsibility.”
Hongdou nodded, and together with He Yunqin saw Gu Yun off, personally watching her get into the Gu family car before turning back. Soon after, Wang Bide and Yu Chongyi also took their leave.
Before leaving, Yu Chongyi said to his sister: “Back then, Mother and Uncle both doted on our aunt dearly. If we suddenly tell them the truth, it will surely bring them great sorrow. Tomorrow morning I’ll find a way to notify Uncle first; tomorrow evening, if it’s convenient for you and Yunqin, come by Tongfu Lane. Once Mother and Uncle have had time to calm themselves, we’ll probably need to accompany the two elders to visit our aunt’s grave. The truth has been buried for so many years — now that all the murderers have been brought to justice, if our aunt has any awareness in the afterlife, she should finally be able to rest in peace.”
Before Hongdou could answer, He Yunqin had already readily agreed: “Good. Tomorrow evening I’ll accompany Hongdou back to her family home.”
Yu Chongyi was naturally grateful for this.
After seeing Yu Chongyi off, the two of them retired to the bedroom in the inner chamber. Their change of clothes had already been laid out. After the harrowing events of these past days, Hongdou was utterly exhausted in body and mind, having cried more times than she could count, her chest feeling almost hollowed out. While He Yunqin changed into his robe outside, she went in to freshen up briefly, changed into her nightclothes, and collapsed onto the bed.
He Yunqin, having finished a phone call in the outer room, came back and saw Hongdou lying face-down, motionless. He touched her bare little feet, frowned, and pulled her up: “Your hands and feet are unusually cold. Drink some hot tea before you sleep.”
Hongdou could only numbly turn over and sit up, taking the teacup from He Yunqin’s hands. The tea had no tea leaves in it — honey water with milk added, steam rising warmly with a sweet fragrance. She took a sip, then, cradling the cup, leaned into He Yunqin’s embrace, her mind racing like a spinning lantern, unable to stop, with only one thought: how to preserve Reverend Yan’s reputation after his death.
He Yunqin let Hongdou lean against his chest, staying silent, seeming lost in thought.
“Yunqin, what was that gunshot at the theater today about?”
He Yunqin was quiet for a moment, then lowered his eyes to look at the top of her head: “Were you scared at the time?”
“Scared.” Hongdou nodded honestly. “The gunshot was so close, and I didn’t know what was happening — how could I not be scared?”
He Yunqin smiled faintly. “Nothing tests one’s character like a moment of great crisis. You were scared, yet you didn’t abandon Reverend Yan. After he died, you didn’t forget to straighten his hair and clothes, determined to preserve his dignity and composure. Hongdou, you are a woman of deep feeling and integrity. What fortune it is for me, He, to have married such a wife.”
Hongdou could hear that he wasn’t teasing her, and looked up at him: “I stayed and didn’t run, not only because I couldn’t bear to abandon Reverend Yan, but also because you were there too. With you there, I felt at ease. And Reverend Yan was no relation of yours at all, yet you didn’t stand by and do nothing either. Mr. He, you are upright and kind-hearted. What fortune it is for me, Hongdou, to have such a husband.”
He Yunqin’s mood, which had been quite somber since taking that phone call, lightened instantly at these words. He reached out and gently pinched her ivory-smooth, rosy cheek: “Aren’t you going to ask me why I knew in advance there’d be chaos at the theater?”
“I want to.” Hongdou pretended to pout. “But if I ask, you won’t tell me anyway — I’d rather wait for you to tell me yourself.”
She had always been utterly transparent in front of him, and He Yunqin’s heart nearly melted at this. He looked at her and said: “Reverend Yan’s case involves not just eight lives, but among them, five were people of some standing and reputation. If this were to spread, it would surely cause an uproar. We need to strike first, before public opinion starts attacking Reverend Yan’s memory. As for tonight’s assassination attempt at the theater, the papers will carry relevant reports — I’ll tell you everything I know. Tomorrow morning, prepare a respectable gift — I’ll take you to visit a friend first.”
Hongdou’s mood lifted somewhat: “All right, then.”
Author’s note: The Five Culprits case has officially concluded. Tomorrow we move into Volume Three. The murderer in Volume Three actually isn’t hard to guess — just shift one fixed assumption and you’ll get it right away. I’ll sprinkle in more sweetness in Volume Three — I quite enjoy writing He Er and Hongdou’s sweet daily life.