As each candle burned out, he would watch intently. The tall, flickering flame gradually became smaller and weaker, like a woman in her prime wilting under the ravages of time – bending, sagging, and shriveling.
However, just before extinguishing, it always seemed to gather all its remaining energy for one final, intense burn. After a last burst of bright light, it would collapse to the size of a bean, then a grain of rice, then a needlepoint, until slowly disappearing.
The crackling sound before darkness fell was like its final cry.
Each time this happened, he would let out a long sigh. He often thought there must be some deeper meaning to this process. Above ground, the fading of light signified the transition between day and night. Underground, it represented his merging with his surroundings. He didn’t like the sewers. He chose this place because he had no other choice. While there was light, he could be the master of the underground. Once the candle burned out, he became just another brick, a section of good wall, a puddle of dirty water – not even comparable to the rats and various crawling insects.
Therefore, he couldn’t blame the little girl for wasting so many candles.
Over the past few days, except for going out to get medicine and food, he had sat quietly in the “room,” watching her. Many times, he thought she would slowly exhaust her last bit of life, like a candle. When she restlessly twisted her body, moaning and crying, he would imagine that final burst of bright light in his mind.
However, that flickering flame persisted. Weak, yet unyielding. Like a needle, then a grain of rice, then a bean.
He thought her small body must contain a long wick.
Regardless, she was gradually getting better. Although she slept most of the time, her temperature was no longer frighteningly high, and her periods of consciousness were lengthening. Especially when he fed her, she chewed and swallowed on her own more frequently. Her appetite was returning; she often sucked noisily on the milk carton, unwilling to stop.
Occasionally, she would open her eyes and look at him. Although her gaze was often wary and uneasy, she no longer resisted him. Even when he wiped her wounds with alcohol, she tried to remain still. This reminded him of a cat he once had. When he bandaged its broken hind leg, the cat behaved similarly.
In his often chaotic mind, that yellow, white, and black cat was one of the few clear memories. At the time, it was lying in the middle of the road, struggling to crawl to the side, swiping its claws at anyone who tried to approach, hissing. He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t understand what others were afraid of. So, he easily grabbed the loose skin on the back of the cat’s neck and carried it to the base of a wall.
Two tree branches and a shoelace solved the problem. The cat kept licking its broken leg, then quieted down, lying beside him as he sunbathed. When he got up to leave, the cat also stood up, limping after him. Without a second thought, he picked it up again and put it in his canvas shoulder bag.
It stayed with him for about two months. He still remembered the warm feeling of it curled up against his leg while sleeping. One winter night, it left and never returned. He didn’t feel particularly disappointed or sad, as if it had never existed.
Therefore, when he returned to the “room” with food and found the bedding empty, he simply sat for a while, then slowly ate the now-cold pork and celery dumplings.
Gu Hao placed the receiver back on the telephone base. He had been calling Tai Wei all morning, but the young man was nowhere to be found. He tried paging him too, but there was no response. After pacing around the room a couple of times, Gu Hao decided to go to the police station.
Old Su’s words seemed reasonable. However, given his social status, it was unlikely he had “friends” who could help with household registration. Moreover, Old Su’s evasive attitude made Gu Hao suspect he was lying.
Furthermore, even if Su Lin had gone to stay with relatives in the south to establish residency and take the college entrance exam there, she should have transferred schools rather than dropping out.
To clarify these matters, he needed Tai Wei’s help.
Gu Hao put on his shoes and took his coat from the rack. As he was putting it on and reaching for his cigarettes and lighter on the bedside table, he heard a knock at the door.
Responding with “Coming,” he walked to the door and opened it, only to be surprised.
Du Qian stood there with an awkward smile, nodding at him: “You’re home.”
Gu Hao, with one arm still not through his sleeve, froze for two seconds: “Yes.”
“Were you about to go out?” Du Qian turned to leave. “I’ll come back another day.”
“No, no,” Gu Hao hurriedly stepped aside from the doorway. “Please, come in.”
Du Qian gracefully entered, standing in the center of the room and looking around: “So this is what a bachelor’s home looks like.”
“Please, have a seat.”
Du Qian sat down on a chair by the bed, looked at Gu Hao, and then pointed at his clothes.
Gu Hao suddenly realized he was still half-wearing his coat. He took it off and hung it back on the rack. After that, he didn’t know what to do. He put his hands in his pockets, then took them out, his eyes fixed on the tips of his shoes.
Du Qian smiled again: “Sit down, won’t you?”
“Oh, right.”
Gu Hao walked to the bed, sat down, then immediately stood up again.
“Are you thirsty? I’ll boil some water for you.”
“Don’t bother,” Du Qian picked up a newspaper from the bedside, flipped through it, then put it down. “I was just passing by. I’ll sit for a bit and then leave.”
Gu Hao sat back down on the bed, discreetly tucking a stray sock under the bedsheet.
“How’s retirement treating you?” Du Qian continued to smile at him. “Much more relaxed, I bet?”
Gu Hao scratched his head: “Bored to death.”
“It’s always like that at first. When I first retired, I thought I’d sleep in every day. But I still woke up at the same time. After cooking and seeing Da Wei off to work, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“At least you had something to do,” Gu Hao smiled. “For me, when I’m full, the whole family’s not hungry. No one needs me to take care of them.”
“You could find something to do.”
“Like what?” Gu Hao pointed outside. “Form an old man’s detective squad?”
“Haha,” Du Qian laughed heartily. “You’re so old-fashioned. Can’t you think of anything else?”
Gu Hao blinked: “For example?”
“Don’t you have any hobbies or something you’ve always wanted to learn?”
Gu Hao thought for a moment and honestly admitted: “No.”
“You are a boring old man!” Du Qian raised her hand as if to hit him. “Then develop a hobby!”
Gu Hao smiled and dodged playfully. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became subtle.
“Let’s talk about something serious,” Du Qian seemed to realize her action was inappropriate, her cheeks flushing. “I’m learning dance and electronic keyboard at the senior university. Why don’t you come to learn something too? Just to pass the time.”
“Is there anything suitable for me?”
“Vocal music, Go, ink painting… I think they’re all good options.”
“But I don’t know how to do any of those.”
“That’s why you learn,” Du Qian rolled her eyes at him and reached into her bag to pull out a stack of flyers. “Take these and look them over.”
Gu Hao took them, seeing a flyer with an elderly man and woman printed on it, both with white hair but youthful faces. The woman wore a colorful dress and held a microphone; the man wore a small round hat and held a paintbrush and palette.
“New classes start every week. You just need to register a week in advance,” Du Qian leaned in, pointing at the flyer. “Oh, and there’s calligraphy too, which is good for cultivating the mind.”
Gu Hao caught a whiff of her dry, subtle fragrance, causing his heart to race and his breathing to quicken.
“Shuttlecock kicking and table tennis are also options,” Du Qian continued, oblivious. “But I think you’re like old Tai, having lived such a busy life. When you’re older, you should do something calming, it’s good for your health.”
“Mm,” That name seemed to act as a signal, and Gu Hao straightened up, tossing the flyers onto the bed. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” Du Qian noticed his change in attitude. “When you’ve chosen, call the number at the bottom. Say Teacher Du referred you, and you can get a discount on the tuition.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll be going then,” Du Qian stood up, carefully fastening her bag and straightening her clothes. Gu Hao also stood, saying nothing.
She walked to the door, and after opening it, turned back to point at the uncleared bowls and plates on the tea table: “Is this what you usually eat?”
Gu Hao looked at the half-eaten steamed bun and a small piece of fermented bean curd left on the plate: “Yeah. It’s just me, so I make do.”
“That’s not nutritious,” Du Qian’s tone was serious. “Come to my place sometime, I’ll make you braised pork with eggs.”
Gu Hao nodded: “Okay.”
“You must come.”
“I will.”
A smile reappeared on Du Qian’s face: “Don’t see me out. None of you are easy to deal with.”
Even after the door closed, Gu Hao was still pondering whether she meant Tai Zhiliang, Tai Wei, or himself. However, he suddenly didn’t feel like doing anything.
Lying back on the bed, Gu Hao absently picked up a flyer to browse, his mind filled with thoughts of a steaming bowl of oily braised pork with eggs.
Jiang Ting carefully screwed the lid onto her water bottle and slowly walked along the corridor toward Class 1. As she was about to pass Class 4, she hesitated for a moment, then quickened her pace.
The classroom was filled with the usual lunchtime clamor. Jiang Ting kept her eyes forward, not stopping. However, the girl who appeared at the classroom door still drew her gaze. After a glance, Jiang Ting quickly looked away.
Ma Na leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, giving Jiang Ting an ambiguous smile. Jiang Ting lowered her eyes and walked around her. The strong scent that wafted into her nostrils made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
It wasn’t until she had walked a few meters that she felt she could breathe normally again. Then, she heard Ma Na’s voice from behind.
“Mind your own business. We’re not done yet.”
Jiang Ting clutched her water bottle, taking one step at a time with her upper body rigid until she reached the door of Class 1. She turned left and entered the classroom.
Sitting back in her seat, Jiang Ting realized her shoulder and neck muscles were aching terribly. Her fingers, tightly gripping the water bottle, were stiff and white at the tips, almost cramping. She exhaled, shaking out her fingers, her mood turning sour again.
The boy on duty had already brought the food boxes back to the classroom. Students swarmed around, looking for their steam-heated lunch boxes. Jiang Ting didn’t want to join the crowd, waiting until everyone had dispersed before walking to the front of the class to retrieve her stainless steel lunch box from inside.
As she straightened up, she saw a pair of legs in her line of sight. Looking up, she saw her father standing at the classroom door, smiling and waving at her.
“Why are you here?” Jiang Ting stood holding her still-hot lunch box, unsure what to do.
“Just came to see you,” Sun Weiming patted her head. “Come on, Dad’s taking you out for a meal.”
“Mom already packed my lunch.”
“What’s so good about that?” Sun Weiming took the lunch box and put it back in the food box. “I’m treating you to roast duck.”
Jiang Ting had no choice but to follow him out of the teaching building.
On the playground, Sun Weiming kept looking around nervously. Jiang Ting knew what he was worried about and couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
“Mom won’t come at lunchtime.”
“Hm? Why would I be afraid of her?” Sun Weiming forced a laugh. “Your school is quite nice.”
After leaving the school gates, Sun Weiming led Jiang Ting to his car, opened the door for her, and made sure she was settled before jogging around to the driver’s side and getting in.
This sudden display of affection made Jiang Ting uneasy, and her confusion grew. Even as she sat in the restaurant with a thin pancake filled with duck meat, sweet bean sauce, and cucumber in her hand, she was still bewildered.
“Eat up,” Sun Weiming said, ladling a bowl of duck bone soup for her. “What time do your afternoon classes start?”
“One-thirty.”
“Then hurry up,” Sun Weiming glanced at his watch and urged, “Don’t just sit there.”
Jiang Ting took small bites, her eyes constantly darting to Sun Weiming.
“Eat more,” Sun Weiming rolled two more pancakes and handed them to her. “I’ve been to this restaurant a few times. The duck is good. Do you want some spicy stir-fried duck hearts?”
“No need, I can’t finish it all,” Jiang Ting hesitated, then asked, “Dad, is there something you want to tell me?”
“Silly child, do I need a reason to treat my precious daughter to a meal?” Sun Weiming widened his eyes. “Has your mom been badmouthing me at home?”
Jiang Ting lowered her head to sip the soup. “No, she hasn’t.”
“Even though your mom and I don’t live together anymore, we both love you equally, understand?”
“Mm,” Jiang Ting didn’t look up, picking up a rolled pancake. “I know.”
“Sometimes Dad’s busy with work and can’t visit often. But I’ve never forgotten about you.”
Jiang Ting said nothing, just eating faster.
Sun Weiming seemed to have no intention of eating, continuously rolling pancakes, picking up dishes, and ladling soup for Jiang Ting. Then, he lit a cigarette and silently watched his daughter.
Under his gaze, Jiang Ting could no longer remain silent. She looked up at Sun Weiming. “Dad, you should eat too.”
Sun Weiming smiled, his eyes fixed on Jiang Ting’s face. “You look more like me.”
“Mm, below the mouth I look like mom.”
Sun Weiming tapped his cigarette ash and took a deep breath. “Tingting, Dad’s going to work in Beijing.”
“Oh?” Jiang Ting was surprised. “For how long?”
“I’m being transferred to the headquarters,” Sun Weiming pursed his lips. “I’ll be living in Beijing from now on.”
Jiang Ting was silent for a moment. “I’ll come visit you during the holidays.”
“That would be great,” Sun Weiming smiled, then looked at Jiang Ting again. “But have you thought about changing your living environment?”
Jiang Ting put the last piece of pancake in her mouth and wiped her fingers clean with a napkin.
“You mean go to Beijing?”
“Yes,” Sun Weiming became excited, speaking rapidly. “Think about it, it’s the capital. Compared to Beijing, our city is like a small county town. Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, the Great Wall… Beijing even has a subway, you know, much faster than buses…”
Jiang Ting interrupted Sun Weiming, who was speaking animatedly: “Is Mom going too?”
“Well…” Sun Weiming’s expression changed abruptly. “Your mom won’t come with me.”
“Then I’m not going.”
“Tingting, you’re still young, you don’t understand adult matters,” Sun Weiming smiled bitterly. “Your mom, she’s unlikely to forgive me.”
“I want to stay with Mom. Wherever she goes, I’ll go.”
“But you’ll leave her eventually,” Sun Weiming became anxious. “Think about it, Beijing has such great resources. It’s the political, economic, and cultural center of the country. Most importantly, taking the college entrance exam in Beijing has a much lower score requirement than here. With your current grades, you could easily get into Tsinghua or Peking University.”
Jiang Ting blinked. “It can’t be that dramatic, can it?”
“Would I deceive my daughter?” Sun Weiming spread his hands. “If you stay here, by the time you’re in your final year of high school, the study pressure will be several times what it is now. But in Beijing, you could effortlessly enter Peking University or Tsinghua — what’s not good about that?”
Jiang Ting bit her lip, lowered her head, and was silent for a moment.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Why not?” Sun Weiming looked incredulous. “This has no downsides for you, only benefits.”
“If I work hard enough, maybe I can get into Peking University anyway,” Jiang Ting said softly. “I don’t care about a Beijing household registration.”
“You child! If any of your classmates had the chance to take the college entrance exam in Beijing, they’d be jumping for joy!”
“I can’t abandon Mom.”
“So you’re willing to abandon your Dad?”
“You still have your younger brother and that woman to keep you company,” Jiang Ting looked up, her eyes full of stubbornness. “If I go with you, Mom will be living alone. That’s not fair.”
Sun Weiming was stunned. He stared at Jiang Ting, suddenly deflating.
“In the adult world, where is there any fairness?”
As Jiang Ting was pondering whether this was meant for her or if he was talking to himself, Sun Weiming perked up and forced a smile.
“Alright, let’s not discuss this today,” he pointed at the remaining half plate of roast duck. “Have some more.”
“I’m full,” Jiang Ting stood up. “Can you take me back to school?”
Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei maintained the same posture: hands pressed on the desk, leaning forward, looking down at the map on the table. Next to the map covered with red circles of various sizes was an ashtray full of cigarette butts, with several crumpled cigarette packs scattered nearby.
Tai Wei squinted, taking the cigarette from his mouth and casually extinguishing it in a half-eaten boxed lunch.
“Let’s go over this again from the beginning. The pediatric nurse Yang Xinqian was off duty that day. She left home around 11 AM to go shopping, heading to Chuncheng Mall, possibly also the small commodities wholesale market nearby. She stayed there for about five hours. Around 4:30 PM, she called home to ask whether her husband would prefer khaki or black casual pants, saying she’d be home soon.”
“That’s right,” Wang Xianjiang scratched his messy hair. “Assuming she was preparing to go home between 5 and 6 PM…”
Tai Wei blinked. “Wasn’t it 4:30 PM?”
Wang Xianjiang sighed. “Women have no sense of time when they’re shopping. You bachelor wouldn’t understand.”
Tai Wei grinned. “Go on, Master.”
“The time was between 5 and 6 PM. The most likely route home would be taking bus route 6,” Wang Xianjiang pointed to a spot on the map. “About 150 meters from Chuncheng Mall.”
“That time of day, the bus stop would be bustling,” Tai Wei frowned, his finger moving across the map. “Eleven stops, about a 40-minute ride, getting off at the No. 73 Middle School stop, then walking about 400 meters… Liutiao Lake Road in this section is either residential areas or night markets. There’s no opportunity to make a move.”
Wang Xianjiang thought for a moment. “Let’s tentatively set it at Chuncheng Mall.”
Tai Wei nodded, picking up a pen to mark the map. Then he rubbed his hands together. “Now for the hardest one.”
Wang Xianjiang lit another cigarette, staring into space for a while as if gathering strength.
“Du Yuan took tram line 54 on the night of the incident to attend a colleague’s wedding reception at Fengyuan Grand Hotel,” Wang Xianjiang stared at the map. “The reception ended around 9 PM. Du Yuan said goodbye to her colleagues at the hotel entrance, with no one accompanying her. By then, tram line 54 had stopped running.”
“A distance of about 3.6 kilometers,” Tai Wei shook his head. “Her normal route home doesn’t pass through any busy areas.”
“A woman, after 9 PM, unable to take public transport. How would she choose to get home?”
“Take a taxi,” Tai Wei blurted out. “Surely not walk?”
“3.6 kilometers, not too far, not too close,” Wang Xianjiang seemed to be talking to himself. “Du Yuan’s colleagues recalled she had some alcohol, but wasn’t drunk.”
Tai Wei thought for a moment. “Could it have been a taxi driver?”
“Unlikely. That wouldn’t explain Sun Hui’s case — she was riding a bicycle, there was no need for her to interact with a taxi driver.”
“If she was walking, any section of that 3.6-kilometer distance could be the crime scene.”
Wang Xianjiang hesitated. “Since we can’t figure it out, let’s put it aside for now — mark the midpoint.”
Tai Wei said “Alright” and marked the map, eagerly reaching for the compass.
Wang Xianjiang asked coldly, “What are you doing?”
“Drawing a circle using the two farthest points,” Tai Wei looked puzzled. “Aren’t we looking for the center point?”
“Don’t rush,” Wang Xianjiang shook his head. “We still have the issue of where the bodies were dumped.”
Tai Wei slapped his forehead and rushed to the corner, digging out a paper tube about half a meter long from a pile of miscellaneous items.
Wang Xianjiang looked confused. “What’s that?”
“Remember that Teacher Chen?” Tai Wei pulled out a rolled transparent sulfuric acid drawing paper from the tube. “I asked him to make a map of the rainwater drainage network, to the same scale as this map.”
He overlaid the transparent drainage network map on the city map, and suddenly the urban area became three-dimensional — showing both the streets on the surface and the underground pipeline network.
Wang Xianjiang smiled. “Not bad, kid. You’ve thought this through.”
“Under your wise leadership, Master,” Tai Wei pointed to the drainage network map. “Teacher Chen also marked the locations of the storm drains.”
Wang Xianjiang leaned over, staring at the two overlaid maps, pondering for a while. “Let’s clarify a few issues first.”
“Go ahead.”
“First, did the sexual assault and murder take place inside the drainage network or at some location outside?”
“I think outside,” Tai Wei blinked. “We can be certain that at least two of the victims came into contact with the perpetrator in the evening. Normal people wouldn’t willingly follow someone into a drainage pipe.”
“Mm,” Wang Xianjiang nodded. “Second, why did the perpetrator choose the drainage system as the dumping site?”
“To cover up the crime, of course,” Tai Wei said without hesitation. “If it weren’t for that heavy rain, no one would have discovered that the three victims were thrown into the sewers…”
He suddenly stopped, staring at Wang Xianjiang. “Master, since these three bodies were washed out from the same pipe, they were likely dumped at the same location.”
“This indicates he’s very familiar with one particular storm drain,” Wang Xianjiang tapped the map with his finger. “In other words, this storm drain is connected to his usual life patterns — that’s also the answer to the second question.”
Tai Wei’s eyes lit up. “The perpetrator came into contact with the victims at different locations, took them somewhere, raped and killed them. Then transported the bodies and disposed of them in a familiar storm drain.”
“The bodies were likely dumped late at night. And that storm drain must be in a relatively secluded location, not easily noticed,” Wang Xianjiang stroked his chin. “Most crucially, that ‘somewhere’ shouldn’t be too far from the storm drain.”
He tossed the compass to Tai Wei. “Now you can draw your circle.”
Tai Wei removed the drainage network map and looked at the city map. “The two farthest points are the estimated disappearance locations of Yang Xinqian and Sun Hui — if we set Du Yuan’s estimated disappearance location at that midpoint.”
Wang Xianjiang waved his hand. Tai Wei measured the distance on the map, marked the center point, and drew a circle. Then, he connected the center point to Du Yuan’s estimated disappearance location and drew another circle. Thus, two concentric circles appeared on the map.
Wang Xianjiang frowned. “What’s this now?”
“Professor Qiao said that with the criminal’s residence as the center, there would be a buffer zone around it,” Tai Wei looked confident. “In this area, because it’s too close to home and easy to encounter acquaintances, he wouldn’t commit crimes here.”
“Mm, that makes sense,” Wang Xianjiang pondered. “In serial cases, the initial crime location is often closer to the perpetrator’s residence.”
“Exactly,” Tai Wei gestured within the smaller circle. “This is the perpetrator’s ‘buffer zone’.”
Wang Xianjiang overlaid the drainage network map onto the city map, revealing the locations of storm drains within the “buffer zone” — quite a few.
“Let’s go, we need to make another trip,” Wang Xianjiang instructed Tai Wei. “See which storm drains meet the conditions for body disposal — start from the center of the ‘buffer zone’.”
“See, now we’re getting somewhere,” Tai Wei became excited, hurriedly gathering the maps. “As they say, a great master produces excellent disciples…”
“Stop showing off!”
Despite his stern tone, a slight smile appeared at the corners of Wang Xianjiang’s mouth.