Xiao Lan was a peculiar girl. She did things he couldn’t comprehend. For instance, she insisted on boiling water before drinking it, hanging clothes to dry, bathing regularly, and using the bathroom far from their “room.”
As a result, their living space accumulated more items. Xiao Lan arranged everything neatly within reach. Though he often tripped over these odds and ends, he had to admit that life underground had become more comfortable. As Xiao Lan cheerfully wiped the dust off the old mattress, she declared, “This is our home.”
Home. For him, it was a distant and vague concept. He’d never had a home, let alone understood its meaning. Yet he knew it wasn’t just a place to sleep. Otherwise, roadsides, underpasses, and park benches could all be called home.
Nor was home defined by the extra pots and pans, which he found unnecessary.
Home, he often thought, must be because of that person – especially when Xiao Lan’s steady breathing tickled his arm as she slept.
Xiao Lan was indeed a strange girl. But he liked her.
He enjoyed watching her eat heartily, rearranging things until they met her standards, her eyes lighting up when finding a ballpoint pen, and her laughter when he had to wear a woman’s coat after she made him wash his clothes.
However, she wasn’t always so cheerful.
Most of the time, she was a great helper. Occasionally, though, she’d do nothing but walk slowly along midnight streets. He’d follow quietly, keeping her company. Even if he spotted “prey,” he’d hastily stuff it into his woven bag before catching up with her.
During these times, Xiao Lan always looked sad. Though she didn’t cry, her downcast eyes and tightly pressed lips dampened his spirits too.
She’d stop in front of certain shops or streets, silently staring. In those dark or dimly lit places, Xiao Lan appeared lonely, compelling him to stand beside her. Afterward, she’d turn and leave just as silently. He guessed these might be places she’d once visited or lived. As for where she came from, she never mentioned it, and he never asked.
One night, she walked to what looked like a school, circling the perimeter several times. Finally, she stood at the base of a wall, searching for something.
He approached and pointed inside. Xiao Lan nodded. He crouched by the wall, patting his shoulder.
Xiao Lan’s eyes widened. “Is it okay?”
Without a word, he interlaced his fingers, signaling her to step on them.
She hesitated, then placed her left foot in his hands, quickly followed by her right foot on his shoulder.
With a swift motion, he effortlessly lifted Xiao Lan. She let out a small gasp, grasping the top of the wall. Once steady, she nimbly climbed over to the other side.
He scaled the wall too, straddling it as he looked down. Xiao Lan stood in a landscaped area, making her way through some trees toward an open space.
He quickly jumped down, following closely behind her.
The campus was eerily quiet, with only Xiao Lan’s rapid breathing audible. She moved swiftly, seemingly nervous yet excited.
They crossed the open area, arriving at a concrete basketball court. Xiao Lan slowed down, weaving between the hoops, occasionally glancing up at the bare metal rims. Finally, she stood at the center, looking around. Just as he was about to join her, she darted towards the building next to the court.
She peered through a first-floor window, pressing against the sill. He mimicked her, gazing into the dark classroom filled with identical desks and chairs, unsure of what she found so captivating. Yet Xiao Lan stared intently for a full five minutes before sighing softly and moving on.
At the building’s main entrance, two glass doors were secured by a long chain. The bulletin board in the foyer displayed various posters. One colorful poster stood out. Xiao Lan examined it closely, reading almost word by word.
He glanced at it briefly, quickly growing bored. He couldn’t recognize most of the characters but found the cartoon mermaid girl amusing. Xiao Lan, however, studied it for a long time. Finally, she reached out and tore down the poster.
The sound of ripping paper pierced the silent night, startling him. Xiao Lan remained calm, rolling up the poster and stuffing it into his woven bag.
She then continued walking, rounding the building towards a large open area in the distance.
This appeared to be a sports field, complete with a running track and sandpits. The center resembled a soccer field with metal goalposts on either side and sparse grass. He followed Xiao Lan as she walked slowly around the track. Suddenly, she broke into a run, her white sneakers creating a rhythmic swishing sound against the sandy ground.
Confused but instinctively following, he ran behind her. The bottles and cans in his woven bag clattered noisily. He made soft “ah ah” sounds, trying to get Xiao Lan to stop. But she only ran faster. That frail body seemed ignited by an intense fire, driving her to sprint forward.
In the final darkness before dawn, the two ran one after another around the track for no apparent reason. Xiao Lan maintained an almost sprinting pace, while he stumbled along behind, panting and surrounded by strange noises, looking utterly disheveled. The night was pitch black. As he slowed slightly, Xiao Lan ahead of him seemed to melt into the darkness, becoming barely visible. An inexplicable panic gripped him, forcing him to grit his teeth and catch up, feeling as though one more slow step would mean losing her forever.
Finally, Xiao Lan couldn’t run anymore. That fire gradually burned out. Her speed decreased until she staggered towards the stands beside the track on trembling legs.
Climbing to the top of the steps on all fours, she sat down, bent over, and gasped for breath. He dragged the woven bag up beside her, his chest heaving violently, feeling as though his lungs might burst.
The cold cement steps quickly drew away the heat generated by running. Xiao Lan stared blankly at the dark field before her, curling up and slowly leaning towards him.
He sat still, not moving, feeling the coolness of Xiao Lan’s sweat-drenched forehead against his cheek. He didn’t know what she was looking at or what lay hidden in the darkness. But he was content to sit beside her, listening to her strong heartbeat.
After a long while, she said softly, “Vincent, dawn is breaking.”
He grunted in response, tilting his head back to gaze at the silent buildings beyond the wall, waiting with her for the dawn to break.
Early morning. City Public Security Bureau.
Wang Xianjiang sat at the long table in the conference room, his hair disheveled and coat thrown on, holding a nearly burnt-out cigarette as he dozed off.
Behind him, Tai Wei lay sprawled across several chairs pushed together as a makeshift bed, snoring loudly.
Suddenly, Wang Xianjiang’s body jerked. He cursed, tossing the cigarette butt that had burned his finger onto the floor, rubbing the scorched spot repeatedly.
He then sat idly for a few minutes, smacking his lips before picking up his teacup and draining the last dregs. Next, he reached for the cookie jar on the table and picked up a resident information form to review.
This Zhang resident was 35 years old and, according to their classification system, lived in Zone B3. Divorced, living alone. A photographer for “Bosom Friend” magazine. Had received an administrative punishment for soliciting prostitution once. From the photo, he appeared quite presentable. Whether he had any registered motor vehicles would have to wait for feedback from the Vehicle Administration Office.
He swallowed the cookie in his mouth, marked a red tick in the upper right corner of this resident information form, and placed it on a stack of filtered information sheets.
Just as he was about to reach for the next one, the conference room door opened. Old Du, the forensic expert, poked his head in, a meat pie still in his mouth.
“What’s this?” he asked indistinctly while chewing, “Working overtime?”
Wang Xianjiang said nothing, just extending his hand. Old Du handed him the other meat pie he was holding. The two men, one sitting and one standing, ate silently in large bites. In his deep sleep, Tai Wei suddenly sniffed, smacked his lips loudly, and resumed snoring.
“There’s still one more?” Old Du stuffed the remaining half of his meat pie into his mouth, crumpled the oil-soaked wrapper into a ball, and tossed it onto Tai Wei. “This stinky brat, making his masterwork while he sleeps soundly.”
“Leave him be,” Wang Xianjiang raised a hand to stop him. “The kid hasn’t slept all night.”
“How’s your case going?” Old Du glanced at the mountain of documents piled on the desk. “Why is it just you two working on it?”
“The bureau is short-staffed,” Wang Xianjiang didn’t want to elaborate. He finished his meat pie, took out his cigarette pack, tossed one to Old Du, and lit one for himself. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Went for training at the Second Research Institute of the Ministry of Public Security,” Old Du exhaled a puff of smoke. “Just got back yesterday — came to report to you, didn’t I?”
“Get out of here!” Wang Xianjiang cursed with a laugh. “What the hell are you reporting to me for?”
Old Du laughed heartily: “I do have something important to discuss with you.” He flicked his ash. “I attended a DNA testing technology training course this time. Have you heard of it?”
“Of course I have,” Wang Xianjiang nodded. “Isn’t that the technology used for paternity tests?”
“It’s now being applied in criminal investigations,” Old Du pointed at the documents on the table. “I extracted semen from those three women’s bodies and determined it came from a person with Type A blood. With our bureau’s current technology and testing methods, that’s about all I can do.”
“And then?”
“If we apply DNA testing technology, our conclusions would be much more precise.”
Wang Xianjiang blinked: “How precise?”
“Put it this way,” Old Du’s expression turned mysterious. “We’re looking for this Type A blood bastard, right? We might narrow it down to dozens or hundreds of suspects. Who did it? We don’t know, so we’d have to question them one by one. But with DNA testing, we could immediately pinpoint the exact individual.”
“Wow!” Wang Xianjiang raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that like fingerprint identification?”
“It’s called DNA fingerprinting,” Old Du said proudly. “I still have that bastard’s sample. If you can narrow down a range of suspects on your end, we might as well send it to the Second Research Institute for identification.”
“That would be great,” Wang Xianjiang suddenly became energized. “How do we do it?”
“Just need to draw blood,” Old Du waved his hand. “Narrow down the suspect pool, and leave the rest to me.”
“Excellent!” Wang Xianjiang’s eyes lit up with excitement. “If we crack this case, I’ll treat you to a grand feast!”
“What did you expect?” Old Du smirked. “You better set out seven dishes and eight bowls for me, at least.”
Tai Wei suddenly rolled over, sitting up groggily: “Feast? What feast?”
Old Du chuckled again. Wang Xianjiang shook his head helplessly: “You little rascal.”
“That’s right, that’s the address. She’s my neighbor. Have you got it? Alright, no problem, after the child gets out of school. I’ll wait for you at home. Thank you very much.”
Gu Hao put down the phone, paced around the room twice, and then sat back on the edge of the bed, staring intently at the paper taped to the wall.
That day’s “encounter” had almost confirmed for him that Ma Na was the culprit behind Su Lin’s disappearance. At the same time, he was certain he couldn’t get the whole truth from Ma Na. However, meeting Jiang Ting was an unexpected gain. By their second meeting, he realized the child wasn’t telling the truth. He could understand the reasons, of course. But the girl’s crying that day still gave him a glimmer of hope. Just now, in that phone call, this hope was about to become reality.
There was about an hour left until the agreed meeting time. By then, the Su family should be back too. Gu Hao couldn’t help but wonder what kind of terrifying, infuriating, and heartbreaking story he would hear. He even imagined that Jiang Ting might know Su Lin’s whereabouts. This way, he could soon see the little girl he’d been so concerned about.
Regardless, what he needed to do now was wait patiently. Gu Hao looked around the room and decided to tidy up a bit. Firstly, checking his watch every few minutes would only increase his anxiety; it was better to do something to distract himself. Secondly, if he could provide a relatively clean environment for the mother and daughter, it might be more conducive to their communication.
Gu Hao started cleaning. The apartment was small, to begin with, and he had few personal belongings, so in less than half an hour, the room looked much neater. He was debating whether to take down the “analysis chart” on the wall when he heard a knock at the door.
Gu Hao was startled. Had the mother and daughter arrived early?
He ran to open the door, only to find Du Qian standing outside.
“You?” Gu Hao’s eyes widened. “Why are you here?”
“What, not welcome?” Du Qian smiled as she stepped in, casually tossing her bag onto the bed and looking around.
“Oh!” She sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Gu Hao to come over. “Did you know I was coming? The place looks pretty clean.”
“No, just routine cleaning,” Gu Hao reached for the thermos. “Let me pour you some water.”
“Okay.” Du Qian suddenly squinted at the “analysis chart” on the wall. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Gu Hao handed her the water cup. “Just something I was playing around with.”
Du Qian seemed to lose interest in it. After taking a couple of sips of water, she said, “Do you have anything to eat at home? Let’s grab a quick bite and then go.”
Gu Hao was puzzled: “Go where?”
“To class, of course.” Du Qian raised an eyebrow. “We have a ballroom dancing class today, did you forget?”
Gu Hao slapped his forehead: “Completely slipped my mind.”
“You’re something. I bet you’ve lost the class schedule I gave you somewhere,” Du Qian rolled her eyes at him, rolling up her sleeves. “You must at least have some noodles and eggs at home, right? I’ll make something.”
“Don’t bother,” Gu Hao hesitated, then stammered, “I can’t go today… I have something… I’ve made an appointment with someone.”
“Hm?” Du Qian froze, then slowly lowered her sleeves. “You should have called me in advance to let me know. It would have saved me the trip.”
“It was a last-minute decision,” Gu Hao grinned sheepishly. “Besides, I forgot we had class today.”
Du Qian turned her face away, picking up the water cup again and sipping slowly: “Who did you make plans with? What for?”
“Well… it’s not something I can explain in just a few words,” Gu Hao pondered. “I’ll tell you another time when I have the chance.”
Du Qian fell silent, her face darkening. Gu Hao felt guilty but didn’t know how to console her, so he just stood there awkwardly.
A few minutes later, Du Qian abruptly said, “Teacher Wu invited me on an outing next week.”
“Which Teacher Wu?” Gu Hao asked, momentarily confused before realizing, “Oh, the ballroom dancing instructor?”
“Yes,” Du Qian replied, her face still stern. “Just the two of us.”
“Just the two of you?”
“What’s the problem? He’s divorced, and I’m widowed. We’re both single—is there an issue?”
Gu Hao lowered his head, silent for a moment before asking glumly, “Where are you going?”
“Jingshui Lake Park.”
“Oh.” Gu Hao considered this. “Do you plan to go?”
Du Qian paused for a few seconds. “If I’m not busy, why not? I’ve got nothing else to do anyway.”
After hesitating, Gu Hao stammered, “I think… maybe you shouldn’t go.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion!”
Du Qian still looked annoyed. However, seeing Gu Hao’s flustered expression, she let out a chuckle.
“Alright then, tell me why I shouldn’t go?”
“That guy…” Gu Hao ran his fingers through his hair. “He seems interested in you. It’s not appropriate for you two to go out alone.”
“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” Du Qian rolled her eyes at him. “Then come with me.”
“Me?” Gu Hao nodded. “Okay. When?”
“This weekend,” Du Qian’s eyes brightened. “Let’s go to Jingshui Lake Park, alright? We can go boating. I’ll prepare the food, you just need to—”
“Can we change the time?” Gu Hao couldn’t bear to watch her excitedly plan. “I have something to do these few days.”
“What exactly do you have to do?” Du Qian furrowed her brow again. “Can’t you just—”
Before she could finish, there was a knock at the door.
They both looked towards the entrance. Gu Hao strode over and opened it. Jiang Yushu stood outside, looking slightly nervous, with her equally anxious daughter Jiang Ting behind her.
“Hello, Mr. Gu,” Jiang Yushu nodded slightly, then noticed Du Qian inside. “Oh, you have a guest? We can come back later.”
“No, it’s fine. Please come in,” Gu Hao hurriedly stepped aside. “Have a seat.”
Jiang Yushu and her daughter entered the room one after the other. After glancing around, they sat at the dining table.
Gu Hao busied himself pouring water for them. Meanwhile, Du Qian’s gaze kept darting towards Jiang Yushu, making her uncomfortable. Jiang Yushu managed a forced smile before turning away.
“Old Gu, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Du Qian asked coolly. “Who is this?”
“Oh, this is… well, you could say she’s my friend. Her surname is Jiang. She’s probably much younger than you, so you can just call her Xiao Jiang,” Gu Hao explained, then pointed to Jiang Ting. “This is her daughter, a high school sophomore.”
He then turned to Du Qian, completely missing the anger spreading across her face: “This is also my friend, surname Du.”
Jiang Yushu awkwardly nodded to Du Qian, “Hello, Elder Sister Du.”
Jiang Ting stood up and bowed, “Hello, Aunt Du.”
Du Qian’s face remained expressionless. “What a beautiful young girl. Just like her mother.”
Jiang Yushu grew even more uncomfortable, lifting her water glass for a small sip.
Gu Hao, oblivious to the tension, pulled up a chair and sat down. “So, shall we talk?”
Jiang Yushu glanced at Du Qian, hesitating. “Maybe we should discuss this at the Su family’s place?”
“Old Su probably hasn’t gotten off work yet, but his wife might be home,” Gu Hao stood up. “I’ll go check?”
As Jiang Yushu was about to nod, Du Qian suddenly jumped to her feet, grabbing her bag. “You all talk. I’m leaving.”
She strode to the door, looking back at Gu Hao, who showed no intention of stopping her and instead just nodded.
“Alright, you go to your class tonight,” Gu Hao opened the door for her. “I’m sorry about today. I’ll contact you later.”
Du Qian left without a word. Gu Hao called after her, “Walk carefully! Take care!” The only response was the loud slam of the building’s entrance door.
Jiang Ting looked at her mother and stuck out her tongue. Jiang Yushu gave a wry smile, thinking this old man didn’t know how to deal with women.
Gu Hao returned from the hallway, poking his head in. “Please wait here. I’ll check next door.”
Jiang Yushu stood up. “Let’s go together.”
Gu Hao turned towards Room 101 and knocked on the metal door. “Sister-in-law, are you home?”
There was no response from inside.
“Mrs. Su must be out,” Gu Hao pointed to his Room 102. “Let’s go back and wait.”
Jiang Yushu looked at the door lock without speaking. Then, she turned to her daughter. Jiang Ting stepped forward, took out a set of keys from her pocket, selected one, and inserted it into the lock, turning it gently.
With a click, the door opened.
Gu Hao was startled at first, then understood.
Jiang Ting pushed open the door to Room 101 and looked inside. Indeed, no one was there.
She turned to face Gu Hao. “Uncle Gu, let’s go to your place first.”
“Child, don’t wait for the Su family,” Gu Hao grabbed Jiang Ting’s arm, his gaze intense. “Tell me now.”
As evening fell, tired birds returned to their nests. The city was entering its final bustling hours of the day. The building’s entrance door opened and closed repeatedly. Families were cooking dinner, calling playful children home. The noise of little ones and neighbors’ chatter occasionally filtered into the tightly closed Room 102, where only a young girl’s tearful narration could be heard. Soon, the room fell silent.
Gu Hao sat at the dining table, a cigarette in one hand and the set of keys in the other. Jiang Ting was wiping her tears with a handkerchief while Jiang Yushu repeatedly stroked her back.
After a long while, Gu Hao asked quietly, “So, you found Su Lin’s keys in that sewer?”
“Yes.”
Gu Hao walked to the chest of drawers, opened one, took out an object, and handed it to Jiang Ting.
“This is your school badge, right?”
Jiang Ting looked at the small rectangular badge and nodded. “That’s right.”
“I should have thought of this earlier,” Gu Hao seemed to be talking to himself, then turned to Jiang Ting. “Can you tell me where exactly that sewer is?”
“Behind my building, near the east wall. I went to check a couple of days ago, but it’s been covered up,” Jiang Ting’s eyes began to redden again. “I secretly opened it. I kept thinking she might come out of there.”
Gu Hao sighed. “You’re a kind child.”
“No, I’m not,” Jiang Ting shook her head. “I should have told the truth immediately.”
“We can’t expect everyone to be so brave. Especially since you’re still a child,” Gu Hao smiled. “Have you told any teachers at school about this?”
“No,” Jiang Ting bit her lip. “Su Lin and I aren’t in the same class. Also, I’m afraid Ma Na and the others might retaliate against me.”
“Mr. Gu, there’s something I want to make clear,” Jiang Yushu, who had been silent, spoke up. “My daughter witnessed this incident and is willing to explain the situation to Su Lin’s parents. But I think that’s all we can do. How this matter is handled further has nothing to do with us.”
She paused, then added, “Especially, regardless of what happens next, I won’t let my daughter appear publicly again.”
Gu Hao nodded immediately. “I completely understand. The child still needs to continue her education. She shouldn’t face any negative consequences.”
Jiang Yushu lowered her head, silent. In truth, besides fearing retaliation against Jiang Ting, she had other concerns. Her daughter didn’t know, but Sun Weiming was now sharpening his knives to gain custody. Jiang Yushu’s goal was to keep life as normal and peaceful as possible before Sun Weiming rolled off to Beijing. She didn’t want any unexpected incidents to affect her advantage in the custody battle. After all, Jiang Ting’s “mental and physical health” could be interpreted in many ways, and even a small oversight might give lawyer Shi a loophole to exploit. If it weren’t for Jiang Ting’s insistence, she wouldn’t have agreed to meet Su Lin’s parents. Now, she just wanted to conclude this matter quickly, allowing her daughter to unburden herself psychologically, stop being depressed, and return everything to normal.
At that moment, sounds came from the corridor outside. Two people seemed to have entered. A man was complaining loudly: “How many times have I told you not to wander around aimlessly? You don’t cook, you don’t take care of the house. My son and I come home and have to wait hungry for you…”
Gu Hao stood up. “The Su family is back.”
He looked at Jiang Ting. “Little girl, are you ready?”
The girl’s lips were pale, but she nodded.
Old Su continued grumbling while taking out his keys to open the door. His wife followed behind, looking tired and silent. Just as he opened the door, he suddenly heard the door of Room 102 open behind him. He instinctively turned around to see Gu Hao and two women, one older and one younger, coming out of the room.
“Old Su.”
“Brother Gu,” Old Su nodded. “You have guests at home?”
Gu Hao walked straight up to him. “Old Su, can we talk?”
Old Su looked bewildered. “Talk about what?”
“About Su Lin,” Gu Hao looked directly into his eyes. “Shall we talk at your place or mine?”
Old Su was taken aback and looked at his wife. The woman’s eyes widened. “What?”
“On May 23rd, the day Su Lin disappeared,” Gu Hao gestured towards Jiang Ting behind him, “this child saw everything that happened to your daughter.”
Old Su’s wife let out a gasp. Then, she covered her mouth, staring intently at Jiang Ting.
Jiang Ting shrank back, frightened. Old Su’s face darkened as he pushed open his door. “Come in. Don’t talk out here.”
Not everyone relishes discussing violent scenes, especially when it might be the last trace of a young girl left in this world. Such a retelling was cruel to Jiang Ting. Moreover, she didn’t know if this was information the family had long awaited or if it would bring even greater blame.
Old Su sat in a chair at the dining table, staring at the mottled red paint on the floor, smoking silently. His wife remained by Jiang Ting’s side, watching her without blinking, as if afraid of missing a single word.
After Jiang Ting finished speaking, she lowered her head and said no more. Everyone else maintained silence, while Old Su’s wife leaned against the sofa, covering her face and sobbing quietly.
After a long while, Old Su tossed away his cigarette butt and coughed twice. “Are you done?”
Jiang Ting looked up in surprise, glanced at the equally startled Jiang Yushu, and nodded. “Yes. That’s what happened.”
“Fine. I understand,” Old Su stood up. “You can go now.”
He then shouted at his wife, “What are you crying for? Go make dinner!”
Jiang Ting and Jiang Yushu looked at each other, at a loss for what to do.
Gu Hao asked in a deep voice, “Old Su, what does this mean?”
“What does it mean?” Old Su stared at Gu Hao. “What else could it mean? Do you want me to prepare a feast to thank you? Should I present you with a banner or write a letter of commendation?”
“Old Su, the young girl said that the last place Su Lin was seen might be that sewer,” Gu Hao said, trying to control his anger. “That’s the daughter you raised. Let’s go look together.”
“That’s not my daughter,” Old Su snorted. “This girl must have seen wrong. Su Lin is in Jiangsu, living well.”
Gu Hao stared at him for a few seconds, then pointed to the set of keys on the dining table. “Old Su, you don’t think the young girl is lying, do you?”
“This doesn’t prove anything,” Old Su’s face paled slightly, but he remained stubborn. “There are many coincidences in this world.”
Suddenly, Jiang Yushu opened her bag, took out something wrapped in newspaper, and slammed it onto the dining table.
“See for yourself,” Jiang Yushu said.
Old Su hesitated, then slowly unwrapped the newspaper. An old package of a certain brand of nutritional drink appeared before him. His face twitched as he picked up the box. The cracked container nearly split in two, and pens, erasers, rulers, and protractors clattered onto the table.
Old Su’s wife leaped from the sofa and rushed to the table. She snatched the “pencil case” from Old Su’s hands, examined it carefully, and then looked at the scattered stationery. Immediately, she let out a long wail.
“Her father!” She clutched the “pencil case” to her chest, grabbing Old Su’s collar with her other hand. “This is… this is Linlin’s!”
Jiang Yushu watched with a heavy heart and softened her tone. “Mr. Su, my daughter isn’t lying.”
Old Su looked agitated. He shook off his wife’s hand and stood there, breathing heavily. Suddenly, he shouted at Jiang Ting, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
Jiang Ting flinched. “I…”
“You come to report this now? What’s the point?” Old Su seemed to have found a target for his frustration, to mask his embarrassment. “So many days have passed, and now you decide to play the good Samaritan?”
“How dare you yell at my daughter!” Jiang Yushu’s face paled with anger. “Your child was bullied, and we came to inform you. We don’t expect gratitude, but you have no right to lash out at us!”
“This is my house. Don’t tell me what to do,” Old Su pointed to the door. “I didn’t invite you here. If you don’t like what you hear, get out!”
At that moment, the door opened. A young boy with a backpack bounced in. “Mom, is dinner ready? I…”
Seeing a room full of adults, the boy swallowed the rest of his sentence, unsure what to do.
Old Su gestured towards the bedroom. “Go to your room!”
The boy looked at him timidly. “Dad…”
“I said go to your room!” Old Su glared at his son. “Close the door and don’t come out!”
The boy didn’t dare say more. He darted into the room, slamming the door shut.
Old Su’s wife grabbed his sleeve, pleading, “Honey, let’s go look for her. Maybe she’s still…”
“Look for what?” Old Su pushed her away. “Shut your mouth! Say one more word and I’ll break your legs!”
“Old Su!” Gu Hao couldn’t stand it anymore and barked, “Don’t go too far!”
“I’m going too far?” Old Su pointed at his nose. “Gu, I respect you and call you ‘big brother.’ We’ve been neighbors for so long. Have I ever offended you?”
Gu Hao stared at him. “Old Su, what are you talking about?”
“I haven’t offended you, so why are you meddling?” Old Su’s face reddened, his eyes bulging. “This is my family’s business. What the hell does it have to do with you?”
“Old Su,” Gu Hao struggled to control his emotions, “that child also calls me Uncle Gu.”
“Did you give birth to her or raise her?” Old Su was nearly hysterical. “You bring two strangers to my home to talk about this useless stuff. Do you think I’m a coward?”
Jiang Yushu couldn’t listen anymore. She pulled Jiang Ting up. “Tingting, let’s go.”
“Get the hell out, all of you!” Old Su slammed his palm on the table. “I’ll handle my family’s affairs myself. I don’t need you busybodies interfering!”
Gu Hao sighed helplessly and followed Jiang Yushu out of Room 101.
Back in Room 102, Jiang Yushu was still shaking with anger. “What kind of family is this? No good deed goes unpunished!”
Gu Hao poured her a glass of water. Jiang Yushu drank it in one gulp and fanned herself with a handkerchief. “I never imagined there could be such parents! Their child is missing, and instead of searching, they blame others!”
Jiang Ting sat beside her mother, quietly comforting her.
Gu Hao’s face was grim. He smoked a cigarette in silence, then sighed.
“Xiao Jiang, I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. I owe you an apology.”
He nodded towards the door. “The Su family has their troubles. As you saw, they have a younger son, born outside the one-child policy, who didn’t even have legal status before. Because of Su Lin’s situation, Old Su might have made a deal with Ma Na’s family to get his son registered and enrolled in school.”
Jiang Yushu listened in disbelief. “What? They’d abandon their daughter for a household registration? Do they even have hearts?”
“Everyone has their struggles,” Gu Hao shook his head. “We might not understand other people’s difficulties.”
“I really can’t comprehend it. Such a grown girl, her fate unknown, and they just wash their hands of her,” Jiang Yushu suddenly thought of something. “By the way, your relationship with Su Lin… was it just as neighbors?”
“What else could it be?” Gu Hao chuckled wryly. “Do you also think I’m meddling?”
“No, not at all,” Jiang Yushu waved her hands. “It’s rare to see someone care so much about a girl they’re not related to.”
“The child wasn’t well-treated at home. I felt sorry for her and secretly gave her food sometimes,” Gu Hao’s expression darkened. “Her sudden disappearance weighs on my conscience.”
“Old Gu, you’re truly a good person,” Jiang Yushu’s eyes welled up. “These days, good people are hard to find.”
“You are too,” Gu Hao smiled at her. “You and that child were strangers.”
Jiang Yushu felt a bit embarrassed. “Well, I came with Tingting.”
“It’s more than that,” Gu Hao said solemnly. “When I saw you take out that pencil case, I knew you were someone who takes others’ matters seriously.”
“Yes,” Jiang Ting chimed in. “I didn’t know my mom was such a caring person.”
Jiang Yushu patted her hand. “You and your witty remarks.”
Gu Hao smiled again. “Like mother, like daughter.”
“But, Old Gu, let’s be clear,” Jiang Yushu’s smile faded as she bit her lip. “I’m afraid this is all we can do. My daughter has unburdened herself, and I’ve fulfilled my responsibility. As we agreed, we won’t interfere with how the Su family handles this matter.”
“No problem,” Gu Hao nodded readily. “You’ve already been a great help.”
Jiang Yushu stood to leave. At the door, she hesitated, then turned and asked, “Will you… continue searching for the child?”
“Of course,” Gu Hao opened the door for her. “I won’t let this go. Besides, I’m a retired old man with nothing better to do, right?”
Jiang Yushu didn’t smile. “Then… if you find out anything about the child, will you let me know?”
Gu Hao looked at her and nodded seriously. “Certainly.”
After seeing the mother and daughter off, Gu Hao smoked two cigarettes. Looking at the night falling outside the window, he barely resisted the urge to immediately go to the sewer.
Thinking rationally, it would be extremely difficult for him to search the sewer alone. Common sense suggested that the place would be a complex maze of tunnels. He’d need to ask that kid Tai Wei for help.
Thinking of Tai Wei reminded him of Du Qian. Although Gu Hao still didn’t understand why Du Qian was angry, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to give her a call.
However, as soon as the call connected and Gu Hao said “Hello,” she hung up.
She was still upset. Gu Hao held the receiver, pondering for a while, but still couldn’t figure it out. He decided to let it go.
He pulled out several boxes from under the bed containing work safety equipment from his old factory job. Gu Hao selected cotton gloves, long rain boots, a mask, and a raincoat. After inspecting each item, he determined they were still usable. Then, he opened the chest of drawers and found a long-handled flashlight. It could serve as both a light source and a weapon. Gu Hao recalled his days as a security chief, staying up late to catch warehouse thieves. Caught up in the moment, he swung the flashlight a few times and even performed a set of military boxing moves.
After a few rounds, Gu Hao’s forehead was sweating, and his arms began to ache. His stomach also started growling. He chuckled to himself. Was he planning to fight? With whom? That girl called Ma Na?
Gu Hao packed all the sewer exploration equipment into a canvas bag. After everything was ready, he went to the kitchen.
Muffled voices were coming from Room 101. Gu Hao couldn’t be bothered with them anymore and started making egg noodle soup. Just as he finished cooking the noodles, the door of Room 101 opened, and someone came out. Without turning around, Gu Hao could tell from the footsteps that it was Old Su’s wife. She didn’t speak either, sniffling as she chopped something on the counter. A few minutes later, Gu Hao heard her turn on the gas stove and start cooking.
The two stood back-to-back, not exchanging a word. The situation was awkward. However, after the big argument earlier, forcing a conversation would probably be even more uncomfortable.
So, Gu Hao simply ladled the noodle soup into a bowl and carried it back to his room. He turned on the TV and ate his noodles while watching the news.
He had only taken a few bites when he heard a soft knock at the door.
Gu Hao swallowed his mouthful of noodles, said “Just a moment,” and got up to open the door. When he unlocked it, he froze—Old Su’s wife was standing there.
As he was about to speak, she made a gesture for him to be quiet and slipped into the room.
While Gu Hao was still hesitating, the woman had already closed the door behind her and whispered, “Brother Gu, Old Su is in the room. I have food simmering on the stove. I only have a few minutes. Can I talk to you briefly?”
Gu Hao nodded, lowering his guard. “Go ahead.”
Before she could speak, tears began to flow. Then, she fell to her knees.
Gu Hao was startled and hurried to help her up. “Sister, what are you doing? Get up quickly.”
Old Su’s wife shook off his hand and prostrated herself on the ground, kowtowing heavily.
“Brother Gu, I must kowtow to you,” she looked up, her face full of sorrow. “I don’t know how else to thank you.”
“No need, no need,” Gu Hao was both angry and anxious. “Please get up first.”
“Will you promise me one thing?” Old Su’s wife pleaded. “Otherwise, I won’t get up.”
Gu Hao was taken aback. “What is it?”
“Please help me find my daughter, I beg you,” the woman clasped her hands together, bowing repeatedly. “I feel she’s still alive… will you?”
Gu Hao was silent for a few seconds, then slowly stood up straight. “You and Old Su…”
“He won’t let me go. He says the child must be gone, or she would have come home by now,” the woman shook her head desperately, tears flying. “If I go out again, he’ll leave me. Will you promise me? I just feel that Linlin is still… please, please, Brother Gu.”
“If you want to kneel, then kneel. You said to yourself you only have a few minutes. If he discovers you’re in my room…” Gu Hao sat back down at the dining table, pointing towards the door. “I’ve already offended Old Su. I don’t mind offending him again.”
The woman covered her face, her whole body shaking as she sobbed silently.
Gu Hao sighed. “You all knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Linlin didn’t come home that night. Her father went to the police station, but they said it hadn’t been 24 hours yet, so they couldn’t help,” the woman cried, gasping for breath. “The next day, we went to the school. Linlin’s homeroom teacher called Ma Na girl to ask about the situation, but she denied everything. Later, a girl called Song Shuang let something slip…”
“And then?”
“The school said it happened outside the campus, so they weren’t responsible. They told us to resolve it ourselves,” the woman beat her chest. “I only knew they had beaten Linlin, but I never imagined they would be so cruel… How could they beat her into a sewer…”
“Sister, I’ll say something harsh,” Gu Hao said quietly. “I’ve never seen parents like you.”
“Brother Gu, our family…” Old Su’s wife started crying again. “We’ve wronged Linlin. From childhood, we never even bought her a pencil case. She just made do with that medicine box. She was so understanding, so obedient. She shouldn’t have been born into our family…”
“Because she was understanding, because she was obedient, does that mean she deserves to be abandoned?” Gu Hao couldn’t hold back anymore. “Does that mean she can become a bargaining chip in your deal with the Ma family?”
“No, no,” the woman shook her head desperately. “Don’t say that. You don’t know how much I miss her…”
“Even if I agree to help you, what happens after we find her?”
Old Su’s wife was stunned for a moment, then stammered, “As long as I know she’s alive, that’s enough…”
“Can the child come home?” Gu Hao stared at her. “Won’t you and Old Su still have to make a choice? Are you willing to give back the money? Is Old Su willing to risk losing his job to give her a proper identity?”
“As long as she’s alive, that’s enough…” the woman lowered her head, seemingly muttering to herself frantically. “As long as she’s alive, we’ll figure something out slowly…”
“I will go look for her, alive or dead,” Gu Hao waved his hand. “You can get up now.”
The woman suddenly raised her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “Brother Gu, in my next life, I’ll be your ox or horse…”
“I’ve said before, I’m her Uncle Gu,” Gu Hao stood up. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m not doing this for you. You can go now.”
The woman stared at him blankly. Seeing that he had picked up his noodle bowl and was no longer paying attention to her, she slowly got up, dusting off her pants. As she was about to leave, she turned back to Gu Hao, seeming to want to say something. However, she just bit her lip and opened the door to leave.
Gu Hao forced down a mouthful of now-cold noodles, put down his chopsticks, and couldn’t eat anymore.