Hongdou froze for a moment, then quickly asked, “Who is it?”
Yu Chongyi said, “The other day, Sister Zhou was hanging bedsheets on the rooftop terrace, and one got blown up onto the roof tiles by the wind. Sister Zhou couldn’t reach it herself, so she asked me for help. I went up to the terrace, and on the awning I saw a pair of size-39 cloth shoes hung out to dry—I couldn’t tell if they were a man’s or a woman’s, and thought it was a bit odd at the time. Just as I got the bedsheet down, I saw Mr. Xiang from the third floor come up. He greeted me, and right in front of me, took the shoes and left.”
“Mr. Xiang?” Hongdou’s face went blank. In her impression, he was serious and unsmiling, always wearing a long gown, and carried a chilling air that kept people at arm’s length. She never dared to strike up conversation with him, and naturally had never paid attention to what size shoes he wore.
She remembered he also taught at Zhendan University—so he was actually He Yunqin’s colleague.
“As for Miss Qiu.” Yu Chongyi hesitated a moment, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “There was one time she twisted her ankle coming upstairs, and her shoe rolled down the staircase. She asked me to fetch it for her, and I did—as I recall, that shoe wasn’t big, definitely not a size 39.”
Hongdou pressed her lips together. Her brother rarely dealt with women in daily life—their mother had certainly wanted to arrange a marriage for him, but he’d previously worked at the police station, where he was either being tormented by Bai Haili or out investigating cases all day, coming home only to collapse into sleep, with no time or thought to spare for courting anyone.
Cousin Yuqi had once had a verbal engagement with her brother, but over the years, under her aunt’s persistent obstruction, even though their mother had originally intended it, the matter had eventually stopped being mentioned at all.
Ever since their mother learned of Miss Qiu’s profession on the third floor, she’d guarded against her brother having any entanglement with Miss Qiu as though guarding against a thief. Her brother rarely ran into Miss Qiu in the building, yet the one time they did meet, the woman happened to twist her ankle—if you said Miss Qiu hadn’t done it on purpose, Hongdou simply wouldn’t believe it.
In her view, Miss Qiu had likely seen through their mother’s intentions and was doing it deliberately to tease her brother. She could practically picture Miss Qiu’s almost-smiling expression at the time—only someone as guileless as her brother would fall for something like that.
Yu Chongyi continued, “Today Detective Wang told Yunqin these cases might be the work of the same person, said the culprit wears a size-39 shoe, and suspected it was Miss Qiu upstairs. I’d never thought to suspect a neighbor before, but hearing them say this, I suddenly remembered Mr. Xiang, and hurried to call the detective agency—turns out Detective Wang wasn’t there. I called the He residence too, but Yunqin wasn’t home either, so I had no choice but to have you take the call.”
Hongdou thought for a moment and said, “Yunqin went out on some business—he might not be back tonight. If Detective Wang isn’t around either, then this news won’t get out tonight no matter how urgent it is—we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. Brother, don’t forget Yunqin and Mr. Xiang are colleagues—since we’ve all managed to suspect him, Yunqin may well have already thought of it too.”
“That’s true.” Yu Chongyi gave a simple, honest laugh. “Yunqin’s so clever, he probably figured it out long before we did wherever there was anything to be found. It’s just me overthinking things.”
Hongdou gripped the receiver and turned around, murmuring, “Brother…”
Her sister’s tone was subtly different from usual. Yu Chongyi made a sound of acknowledgment, and when nothing followed after a moment, he asked gently, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”
Hongdou hesitated for a long while, still too embarrassed to say it, and only said, “Brother, put Mother on the phone.”
Yu Chongyi was stunned for a moment, then said considerately, “Alright.”
A moment later, Mrs. Yu picked up the phone. “Hongdou? Oh, why are you still up so late?”
Hongdou said, blushing, “Mother.”
Mrs. Yu keenly picked up on the unusual note in her daughter’s voice, her tone immediately turning tense. “What’s wrong?”
Hongdou paused. “I… I’m pregnant.”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then a voice full of delighted surprise came through. “Pregnant?”
Hongdou gave a silent little laugh, terribly embarrassed. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you. I’ll, I’ll hang up now — you should get some rest too.”
Mrs. Yu, half laughing and half scolding, said, “You silly child, blurting that out with no lead-up at all — explain yourself properly. Has the doctor seen you? Is it confirmed? Does Yunqin know?”
Hongdou, blushing, answered each question one by one.
Mrs. Yu sighed with a laugh. “Good, good, good. I’ll come to the He residence first thing tomorrow morning. Even though your mother-in-law is always so thorough, I, as your mother, still need to see you with my own eyes to feel at ease.” Her mother, always careful in her considerations, had never once come to the He residence since her daughter married, for fear of inviting criticism toward her.
Hongdou exchanged a few more words with her mother before slowly hanging up the phone.
She wasn’t sure why, but her heart felt joyful one moment and anxious the next. Just as she was about to head out, she remembered her brother’s words and turned back to call Wang Bide’s detective agency again.
Loudai answered again, saying Wang Bide wasn’t there. She hung up and called Ruide’s clinic instead, only to be told by the nurse that Ruide had gone out.
It seemed there was no way to notify He Yunqin tonight.
Troubled, she left the study and headed toward the bedroom.
Back in her room, her fourth sister-in-law was still pestering her mother-in-law about wanting to share a room with her second sister-in-law tonight. Though her mother-in-law still hadn’t nodded yes, her expression was already beginning to soften.
Seeing her come back, He Zhuyun said, “Second Sister-in-law, help me talk Mother into it. Let me sleep with you tonight — worst case, I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed. We won’t be sleeping in the same bed as sisters-in-law, so of course I won’t accidentally kick your little baby.”
Hongdou couldn’t help but find this amusing — it was rare to see He Zhuyun so clingy with her. Suddenly recalling that Yu Rui, she guessed privately that He Zhuyun must have something on her mind she wanted to share, and said with a smile to her mother-in-law, “Mother, Fourth Sister probably has something private she wants to tell me. Why don’t we bring Fourth Sister’s bedding over — she and I can each have our own bedding.”
Hearing the words “something private,” He Zhuyun’s face flushed for no clear reason.
Mrs. He’s heart stirred, and she immediately changed her mind, saying to He Zhuyun, “Fine then, you can sleep beside her if you like, but don’t disturb your second sister-in-law. Even if you want to talk to her, don’t stay up too late.”
He Zhuyun happily took hold of Mrs. He’s arm. “Mother, don’t worry.”
Once Mrs. He had left, Hongdou hurried to wash up, while He Zhuyun, in a goose-yellow nightgown, sat on the couch outside flipping through a book, saying, “I wonder what Second Brother’s off to do this time — he actually took the car out. I remember every time he went out at night before, he always rode that bicycle of his.”
Hongdou had already been trying to figure out how to get a message to He Yunqin, at a loss for where to even look for him. Hearing this from the washroom, she froze, then hurried out to ask He Zhuyun, “How long has your second brother had that bicycle?”
“He’s had it since he came back from abroad. Second Sister-in-law, you have no idea how odd Second Brother is about it — that bike is practically falling apart, yet he treasures it like anything. There was even one time he fixed it himself.”
An idea sprang into Hongdou’s mind, and she could no longer sit still. She came out and put her coat back on, then fished a small flashlight out of a drawer, saying to He Zhuyun, “Fourth Sister, wait for me here in the room — I’m going downstairs for a moment.”
He Zhuyun asked in surprise, “What’s wrong?”
Hongdou said, “Your second brother called just now — he said he left something on that bicycle. I’m going to fetch it back for him.”
He Zhuyun’s expression relaxed, and she rose. “I’ll go down with you.”
“No need.” Hongdou opened the door. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She went downstairs, to the garden pavilion where He Yunqin usually parked his bicycle, and sure enough saw the half-old bicycle standing quietly there, cast in a dark, dull sheen under the orange lamplight.
She switched on the flashlight and bent down to sweep the beam around — nothing. As the night wind grew stronger, she pulled her coat tighter and was about to turn back when the flashlight’s beam happened to slide across the support bar of the front seat, reflecting a flash of silvery light.
She frowned and leaned in closer — it turned out to be a row of letters, tiny as grains of rice. They were carved so small that she had to strain to make out that they were English letters.
They read: “light and truth.”
She read it softly aloud: “Light and truth.”
She froze. That was St. John’s University’s motto.