June 13, 1994. Monday. Clear skies.
Against a deep blue background, a round yellow moon hung on the left side of the poster. Beneath the moonlight, gentle waves rippled across the sea. On a rocky outcrop sat the little mermaid, motionless. Her chestnut curls cascaded down to her waist as she cradled her long, fish-like tail with one hand. With her face tilted slightly upward, she gazed at the night sky, seemingly awaiting the arrival of happiness.
This hand-drawn poster was likely the work of Teacher Zhou. Whether intentional or not, I was grateful he hadn’t used Mana’s actual photograph as the poster’s centerpiece. This way, I could look at the poster and freely imagine myself as that beautiful mermaid.
It sounds pathetic, I know. But I couldn’t help it. When I first saw this poster on campus that night, my immediate thought was: It’s mine. I must take it with me.
It ignited something within me that had long been reduced to ashes. I could feel that flickering flame slowly growing stronger.
Its significance to me surpassed having a full stomach, being able to bathe, or wearing clean clothes. It seemed to represent a possibility—a ray of light in this deep underground, another way out of this intricate web of pipelines.
Vincent didn’t understand why I often sat beneath the poster, staring at it for hours while holding a candle. Although he would sit with me, he’d usually lose patience after a few minutes, turning his attention to tinkering with found objects or falling into a deep sleep. I found it difficult to explain to him what this poster meant to me. At the same time, I felt guilty for not being able to work with him due to lack of sleep. Vincent, however, didn’t mind. He even moved the mattress under the poster so I could see it as soon as I opened my eyes.
What he didn’t know was that this would only make the flame burn brighter.
I realized something: when a person’s life is reduced to zero, as long as they’re still alive, every day thereafter is an addition. That kettle of hot water, those hangers, that white shirt—they were all individual “ones.” That poster was a “hundred.”
They would open a hole in my heart, and that hole would grow larger and larger. From passive acceptance to active absorption. I knew clearly that this hole, called desire, could never be filled. It would devour everything within reach. It kept saying: I want, I want.
I want a pair of white sneakers.
I want that white dress.
In reality, I scared myself. One voice said, you can’t want more; another voice said, why not? They argued incessantly, and I was powerless to stop them. Especially when Vincent wasn’t around, it seemed as if the entire room was filled with their voices.
It appeared to be a choice. When I hesitated, I had already made my decision.
So, one day, I sat on the mattress, looking up at the poster, at the waves, at the rocky outcrop, at the mermaid gazing into the night sky. Behind me, Vincent was snoring steadily. I turned to him, studying his weathered face and the thick beard that had just grown in.
I reached out, gently caressing his face. He wrinkled his nose, smacked his lips contentedly, and continued sleeping.
Vincent, I’m going to leave you.
Outside the conference room, chaos reigned. Dozens of people crowded the corridor, each wearing an impatient expression, chattering loudly. Tai Wei weaved through them, shouting, “Line up, line up! You there put out that cigarette. No smoking allowed here…”
Wang Xianjiang leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, silently observing the unruly crowd, trying to discern any unusual expressions among the ordinary faces. Beside him, the “5/24 Serial Killer Case” label had been torn off the conference room door.
Suddenly, he bellowed, “Everyone shut your mouths!”
The crowd fell silent immediately. Tai Wei seized the opportunity to push the people around him: “Form two lines, quickly!”
One man spoke up, “Officer, why have you called us here?”
“No need to ask questions,” Wang Xianjiang replied expressionlessly. “Just do as you’re told.”
The man grumbled dissatisfiedly but fell into line.
At that moment, the conference room door opened, and Old Du poked his head out, waving to Wang Xianjiang: “Lao Wang, there’s a phone call for you.”
Wang Xianjiang entered the conference room and picked up the receiver from the long table: “Who is this?”
“Is this Officer Wang Xianjiang? This is Xu Changming from Xiaobei Street Police Station.”
“Yes, hello. What’s the matter?”
“Did you receive the resident information forms we provided?”
“Yes, we did. What about them?”
“We have new information here.” The sound of shuffling papers came through the receiver. “When notifying residents in our jurisdiction to go to the city bureau, one resident said they no longer live here and have rented out their house.”
“Which one?”
“Tang Leping.”
Wang Xianjiang picked up the list on the table, scanned it up and down, and found the name “Tang Leping.”
“Where does this Tang Leping live now?”
“Over in Sidao Street.”
Wang Xianjiang looked at the map hanging at the front of the conference room—Sidao Street was far from the “buffer zone.”
“I see. Do you have the tenant’s name?”
“We have some basic information: Zhou Xijie, male, about 35 or 36 years old, apparently a teacher at some school.”
“Understood. Could you please contact Zhou Xijie and ask him to come to the city bureau tomorrow? Tell him to look for Officer Wang Xianjiang or Officer Tai Wei.”
“No problem.”
After thanking him, Wang Xianjiang hung up. He immediately crossed out “Tang Leping” on the list.
Tai Wei and Old Du entered the conference room one after another. Tai Wei noticed Wang Xianjiang’s action and asked, “Master, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, just an adjustment to the list,” Wang Xianjiang tossed the pen onto the table. “How are we doing with the people?”
“The Vehicle Administration Office screened out 71 people. We’ll check half of them today—35 people—and the other half tomorrow. 32 have arrived so far.”
“Is there anyone named Tang Leping among those who haven’t come?”
Tai Wei checked the list in his hand: “Yes. From Zone B.”
“Cross him off. We don’t need to wait for him today.”
“What about the others who haven’t shown up?”
Wang Xianjiang countered, “What do you think?”
Tai Wei was taken aback. Old Du chuckled, “Those who didn’t come are probably feeling guilty. That makes our job easier.”
Tai Wei looked a bit embarrassed: “It’s about time. Shall we start?”
Wang Xianjiang turned to Old Du: “How are we doing this?”
“Groups of ten. I’ll take them for blood draws.”
Old Du pointed at the phone on the table. “I’ll have Da Wei help me. Just wait for my call. When one group is done, I’ll let you know. You line up the people, and I’ll have Da Wei come get them.”
Tai Wei pondered for a moment: “How do we explain this to them?”
Wang Xianjiang shrugged: “We’re the police conducting an investigation. No need to explain anything. They just need to cooperate.”
Tai Wei bit his tongue and said no more. Wang Xianjiang ran his fingers through his hair: “Old Du, how soon can we get the results?”
“I’ve thought about that,” Old Du mused. “The No. 2 Institute can do it, but they have a lot of samples to process, so it might be slow. Liaoning Province has had this technology since 1988. Why don’t you report to Director Hu and see if we can send the samples to Liaoning through the provincial department? It might be faster than sending them to the No. 2 Institute.”
“Alright,” Wang Xianjiang stood up. “I’ll go now. If you can’t find me, just page me.”
Old Du nodded and left with Tai Wei. Wang Xianjiang followed them out, seeing Tai Wei already counting the first group at the head of the line. He squeezed through the dense crowd and headed towards the stairwell.
As he stepped onto the first stair, he glanced back at the long queue. He didn’t know if the killer who had taken three lives was among these people, nor did he know if the moment of solving the case was just around the corner or still far away.
Gu Hao sat by the telephone, silently smoking and occasionally glancing at the wall clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since he last paged Tai Wei.
Gu Hao stubbed out his cigarette, deciding not to wait any longer.
He counted the items in his canvas bag: raincoat, gloves, mask, flashlight, batteries, and rain boots. Then, he stuffed in a bag of bread and a thermos filled with hot water. After pocketing his cigarettes and lighter, he slung the canvas bag over his shoulder and headed for the door.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob, the phone on the table rang. Gu Hao hurried back to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Uncle Gu, you were looking for me?” Tai Wei seemed to be in a noisy environment, his voice barely audible over the clamor.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m at the bureau, working.” Tai Wei suddenly shouted, “Everyone shut up! Close the door— Uncle Gu, go ahead.”
“Well, you carry on then. We’ll talk later.”
“It’s fine, speak quickly. I have to go out again soon.”
“It’s like this… In the case you’re investigating, three female bodies washed out of a sewer, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Have you searched the sewer system?”
“We have.” Tai Wei sounded puzzled. “Why are you asking about this?”
“So, you have maps or blueprints of the sewer system?”
“We do.” Tai Wei exclaimed, “Ah, Uncle Gu, is this about your neighbor, that female student?”
“Yes. I’ve been investigating, and the last place this child was seen was in a sewer.”
“So that school badge might be hers?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“You’re not planning to go down into the sewer yourself, are you?”
“At this point, I have to go down and look.”
“Is it a sewage well or a rainwater well?”
“Hm?” Gu Hao hesitated. “I’m not sure about that—does it make a difference?”
“There’s a world of difference.” Tai Wei started to show off again. “Old man, don’t do anything rash. Wait for me to come find you. Don’t go wandering off and get lost.”
“Get lost! You think I’m a child?”
“Listen to me, wait at home. I’ve got to get back to work now. Hanging up.”
Gu Hao put down the phone and pondered for a moment, deciding to go take a look first.
After two bus rides and a short walk, half an hour later, Gu Hao arrived at the residential complex where Jiang Ting lived. He quickly found the sewer in the open space between two buildings.
Judging by the character “Rainwater” on the iron manhole cover, this must be the rainwater well Tai Wei mentioned. Gu Hao changed into his rain boots, circled the manhole once, then crouched down and tried to lift the cover by inserting his fingers into the drainage holes. However, the heavy iron object barely budged, revealing only a small gap. He had to give up, and as he was looking around, he saw Jiang Ting running towards him.
The girl was out of breath when she reached him, her face flushed.
“Why are you here?”
“I saw you from upstairs.”
“Isn’t it Friday?” Gu Hao thought for a moment. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“The seniors have a mock exam, so they’re using the first and second-year classrooms.” Jiang Ting walked to the nearby lawn and picked up a short tree branch. “I used this last time.”
Gu Hao took the branch, inserted it into the drainage holes of the manhole cover, and pulled hard, dragging it to the side—revealing the dark opening of the well.
“Thanks.” Gu Hao tossed the branch aside. “You should go home now.”
“No,” Jiang Ting peered into the well. “I’m going down with you.”
“Not.” Gu Hao waved his hand. “Go back quickly, don’t make your mother worry.”
“My mom’s at work,” Jiang Ting made a face. “She won’t know.”
Only then did Gu Hao notice the girl was wearing sportswear and purple rain boots with white spots—she had come prepared.
“Still, no,” he said sternly. “You think this is some kind of game?”
Jiang Ting pulled out several spools of thin white fishing line from her pocket and waved them at Gu Hao. “You might need these.”
Gu Hao squinted. “What are those?”
“Fishing line my dad used to use.” Gu Hao considered for a moment, then reached out his hand. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
But the girl hid the spools behind her back, tilting her head to look at him with an unmistakable expression.
Gu Hao sighed in resignation. “Once we’re down there, you follow my every instruction. Do whatever I say, understand?”
Jiang Ting tossed him one of the spools and headed towards the well, lowering her foot onto the iron ladder.
Gu Hao glanced around, silently praying no one would see an old man and a young girl climbing into a sewer.
The well was about four meters deep. Jiang Ting had already reached the bottom and quickly made room as she saw Gu Hao climbing down the iron ladder.
Though the opening looked narrow, it was quite spacious inside. However, beyond the area lit by sunlight from the opening, everything was pitch black. Gu Hao realized they were in a circular concrete pipe. It was tall enough for an adult to stand upright, with some standing water at the bottom. The soles of their shoes felt slippery, likely due to silt underneath. He pulled out a flashlight from his canvas bag and shone it in both directions, revealing endless tunnels on either side.
The girl looked both excited and a little frightened. “Uncle Gu, which way should we go?”
Gu Hao thought for a moment. “Where did you find that key?”
Jiang Ting recalled briefly, pointing at her feet. “Around here, I think.”
Gu Hao shone the flashlight towards the right tunnel. “Let’s try our luck this way.”
He instructed Jiang Ting to tie one end of the fishing line to the iron ladder while he put on cotton gloves and held the spool.
“Stay behind me and watch your step,” he added. “Don’t touch anything.”
Jiang Ting nodded.
Gu Hao took a deep breath. Holding the flashlight in one hand and slowly releasing the fishing line with the other, he began walking into the dark depths of the rainwater tunnel.
After about ten meters, he looked back towards the well entrance. That single beam of light stood still in its place, seeming to radiate a gentle warmth. For a moment, Gu Hao almost wanted to sprint back and leave this dark, cold place immediately. However, when he thought about how Su Lin must have groped her way forward in complete darkness, he turned back, gritted his teeth, and continued wading through the standing water.
At least he could see the light ahead; at least he had a companion—even if the young girl was sticking close behind him, not daring to fall even a step behind.
Indeed, as soon as they left the reach of sunlight, Jiang Ting’s courage vanished completely. Apart from the area illuminated by the flashlight, everything was pitch black. The old man’s silhouette ahead offered her some comfort and was her only support in this gloomy place. She began to regret her impulsive decision. However, she didn’t want to give up now. A strong intuition told her that Su Lin was still there.
Perhaps due to fear, Jiang Ting soon began to feel cold all over, especially her feet in the rain boots. The standing water in the tunnel seemed near freezing, chilling her to the bone. Just as she was wondering why she hadn’t worn thicker socks, she felt something brush past her boot.
She instinctively let out a scream, kicking frantically in the water. Gu Hao turned back. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s… there’s something,” Jiang Ting said, her face pale with fright, looking around frantically. “It crawled over my foot.”
“It’s nothing,” Gu Hao said casually. “Probably just a rat.”
Jiang Ting’s face grew even paler. “There are rats here?”
“Where did you think they lived?” Gu Hao chuckled. “How about this—you can follow the fishing line back.”
Jiang Ting was silent for a few seconds. “No.”
She pushed Gu Hao’s arm. “Let’s keep going.”
The two continued along the tunnel. At first, Gu Hao paid attention to marks on the ground and tunnel walls. Soon, he gave up trying to find any clues. Judging by the watermarks on the tunnel walls, the water level here had once reached nearly a meter high, washing away any traces that might have been left.
He stopped looking around and focused on moving forward. Jiang Ting followed closely behind. The two seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to remain silent. Apart from the splashing of water and their breathing, there were no other sounds in the rainwater tunnel.
The air here was far from fresh, with an indescribable, unpleasant odor constantly lingering in their nostrils. Gu Hao began to feel dizzy. He stopped, took two masks from his bag, and they both put them on before continuing. Although the masks temporarily blocked out the unpleasant smell in the tunnel, they also made breathing more difficult. Half an hour later, Gu Hao was panting heavily. Behind him, Jiang Ting was also breathing hard, her steps becoming sluggish.
He began to doubt whether he could persevere. Fortunately, after turning several corners and changing the fishing line spool once more, this tunnel finally came to an end.
Before them was a horizontal tunnel, taller and wider, connected to their current tunnel by several steps. Gu Hao carefully descended the slippery granite steps, then turned to help Jiang Ting down. He then shone the flashlight left and right—again, nothing but endless darkness in both directions.
Gu Hao stood still for a few seconds, then suddenly shouted, “Su Lin!”
His call echoed off the tunnel walls, gradually extending into the distance. Jiang Ting was startled, then held her breath, listening carefully to the sounds in the tunnel.
In the dark depths, there was still only silence.
Jiang Ting looked at Gu Hao. “Uncle Gu, which way should we go?”
Gu Hao thought for a moment, then shone the flashlight at their feet. The standing water was flowing slowly to the right, suggesting the exit was in that direction.
Moreover, when people are unsure of direction or highly tense, they tend to choose right over left. Gu Hao made up his mind, tugged on the fishing line, and started walking to the right.
“Come on, let’s take a chance on this side today.”
Apart from being more spacious, this tunnel didn’t seem much different from the one they had just passed through. However, the unpleasant smell was fainter. Gu Hao pulled his mask down to his chin, carefully releasing the fishing line while sniffing the air as he walked forward.
After a long distance, when the second spool of fishing line was exhausted, he noticed another tunnel opening on the wall, apparently another pipeline. Gu Hao guessed that they were currently in one of the main tunnels of the city’s underground rainwater network, with the tunnel they had just passed through and this newly discovered one being part of the subsidiary network. This aligned with his expectations. The damn rainwater network was indeed intricate and complex. Tai Wei’s concern about him “getting lost” wasn’t unfounded.
Gu Hao tried to continue forward, discovering that subsidiary tunnel openings appeared on both sides of the main tunnel at regular intervals. This meant that Su Lin could have gone down any of these tunnels.
Jiang Ting realized this too. As they passed another subsidiary tunnel, she climbed up the steps and peered inside. After a moment’s hesitation, she called out tremblingly, “Su Lin.”
Again, there was no response.
Jiang Ting lowered her head, looking dejected as she came down the steps.
Gu Hao looked at her. “Tired?”
Jiang Ting didn’t speak, just nodded slightly.
Gu Hao took out the raincoat from his canvas bag and spread it on the granite steps. After a moment’s thought, he put his shoes under the raincoat and gestured for Jiang Ting to sit down. Then he took out the bread and thermos, handing them to her.
The girl looked genuinely hungry. She tore off a large piece of bread, devouring it in two or three bites, then poured some hot water into the thermos cap and sipped it slowly.
Gu Hao sat down too, ate a piece of bread, and drank some hot water. Despite the raincoat, the cold, hard granite steps were still very uncomfortable. However, Gu Hao didn’t want to stand up. His aching legs needed rest, and he had some things to think through.
The most important question was: Was Su Lin still alive?
Assumption one: The child was still alive. If so, she should still be trapped in the underground rainwater network. Otherwise, if she had returned to the surface, she would have immediately called the police or gone home, and none of this would have happened. However, considerable time had passed since her disappearance. How had she survived down here? At least from what they had seen, there was nothing edible in the underground network besides water. This made the second assumption seem much more likely.
Assumption two: Su Lin had died here. Of course, there was a possibility that Su Lin’s body had been washed into the Li Tong River by the heavy rains. However, Tai Wei’s investigation showed that no unidentified bodies had been found within the city limits. Therefore, Gu Hao had been trying to detect a certain smell in the polluted air of the tunnel. From his time on the battlefield years ago, he was familiar with the pungent odor of decomposing bodies. Although much time had passed, it was a smell one never forgets once encountered. While they hadn’t found anything yet, he had to be mentally prepared to possibly come across a corpse with a contorted face, bloated beyond recognition, or even largely consumed by rats.
He glanced at Jiang Ting, huddled beside him. This scene was not something a child should witness under any circumstances.
Although the second hypothesis seemed most plausible, Gu Hao still preferred to believe the first. It was a hopeless hope. But hope, after all, is the best thing in this world.
If the child was still alive, she must be in some habitable place within the rainwater drainage network. Neither the main pipes nor the branch pipes met the criteria. The stagnant water alone made it impossible to stay for long periods. As for food, he could only assume she was able and willing to catch and eat rats, geckos, and the like raw.
After smoking two cigarettes, Gu Hao turned to Jiang Ting. “Little girl, can you keep going?”
Jiang Ting finished the hot water in her cup lid and nodded.
Gu Hao stuffed the raincoat, shoes, thermos, and leftover bread into his canvas bag, then grabbed the fishing line again. “Let’s go.”
The seemingly endless search resumed. The same stagnant water; the same moss-covered pipe walls; the same steps and branch pipe openings; the same darkness and silence. Sometimes, Gu Hao wondered if they were just walking in place. Otherwise, how could this main pipe be so long?
At each branch pipe opening, they would pause briefly, search a short distance into the pipe, and then call out Su Lin’s name loudly. This ghostly place seemed to have a magical power that made people instinctively remain silent as if making a sound would anger some monster lurking quietly in the depths of darkness. Therefore, each shout made them—especially Jiang Ting—jump. She longed for the girl to respond, yet feared other strange sounds might appear.
After walking for an unknown length of time, Gu Hao suddenly stopped, letting out a sigh. Jiang Ting halted behind him, watching as he shone his flashlight at his feet—a section of fishing line was floating in the stagnant water.
Her heart sank, and she instinctively looked at the fishing reel in Gu Hao’s hand. Except for the spool, the reel was empty.
Gu Hao picked up the fishing line, wound it around the spool twice, and said nothing. Jiang Ting understood that this was the last reel, so today’s search had come to an end. She couldn’t tell if she felt disappointed or relieved and just stood there silently.
After a moment, Gu Hao tentatively asked, “Would you mind waiting here with the reel while I go a bit further ahead?”
Jiang Ting immediately widened her eyes in fear and shook her head repeatedly. Gu Hao didn’t insist. Although he was confident he could find his way back, leaving the young girl alone in the darkness seemed too much to ask. Besides, he wasn’t comfortable with it either. However, he still felt reluctant to give up, yet had no choice. He shone his flashlight ahead a few times, preparing to call it quits.
Suddenly, he seemed to spot something on the pipe wall about ten meters away. The color there differed from the surrounding concrete, and the shape was unusual.
He turned to Jiang Ting and said, “Little girl, wait here for me. I’ll be right back.”
“No, no,” the girl shook her head like a rattling drum. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”
“It’s just over there,” Gu Hao pointed ahead. “You’ll be able to see me.”
Jiang Ting grabbed his sleeve. “No, I’m coming with you.”
Gu Hao sighed, thought for a moment, then took out the thermos from his bag. He tested its weight, wrapped the fishing line around it, and placed it in the water.
“Let’s go.”
As before, Gu Hao led the way with Jiang Ting following. They slowly approached the spot, the flashlight beam fixed on the pipe wall. As they got closer, Gu Hao saw an open circular iron door, large enough for a person to pass through. He poked his head in, sweeping the flashlight around, and discovered a hidden space inside.
Near the iron door were several granite steps, with the stagnant water reaching the doorway, submerging the lowest steps. The murky water seemed about a meter deep. The space at the entrance resembled a “corridor” connecting to a larger area deeper inside. Gu Hao scanned the interior with his flashlight, barely making out moss-covered concrete walls and what appeared to be an iron ladder in the corner.
The place looked like a massive water storage tank.
Jiang Ting peered out from behind him, curiously looking around.
“So much water…” She suddenly wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Gu Hao remained silent, gesturing for Jiang Ting to stay outside the iron door as he continued scanning the eerily still water surface with his flashlight.
He had long noticed the faint, unpleasant odor floating above the water—the unmistakable stench of decay that awakened his olfactory memory.
Something had died here. Whether human or animal, it should have been bloated and floating on the surface.
However, from what he could see with the flashlight, the water surface was calm, with only a few twigs and dead grass visible.
Could it be submerged?
Their current equipment wasn’t suitable for underwater exploration. Moreover, even if they found something, he didn’t want Jiang Ting present. To locate the source of the odor, they’d likely have to return another day. Gu Hao turned around to find Jiang Ting had sneaked in again and was peering down beside the steps.
“There’s nothing here. Let’s go,” he said.
“Uncle Gu,” Jiang Ting maintained her bent-over posture, pointing beneath the steps, “what’s that?”
Gu Hao shone the flashlight where she indicated and saw a large, dark mass soaking in the water between the steps and the wall.
He scrutinized it but still couldn’t make out its original form. After a moment’s hesitation, Gu Hao lay prone on the steps, reaching down as far as he could to grab the object.
An unpleasant, slimy sensation met his fingers, and the waterlogged item was quite heavy.
Gu Hao hauled it onto the steps and spread it out, revealing a deep purple woman’s short wool coat. He examined it briefly before looking up at Jiang Ting.
“They don’t let you wear this kind of coat at school, right?”
“No,” Jiang Ting frowned at the soaking wet coat. “We have to wear uniforms.”
Gu Hao thought for a moment, then used his foot to nudge the coat towards the iron door. “That’s it for today. Let’s go.”
They returned to the main pipe, found the thermos wrapped with a fishing line, and began their journey back. With the fishing line as a guide and neither of them inclined to linger, they moved much faster than before.
Finally, they saw the beam of sunlight shining into the underground passage. Gu Hao untied the fishing line from the iron ladder and helped Jiang Ting climb up first. However, the girl froze as soon as she poked her head above ground, her long legs still on the ladder. Not knowing why she had stopped, Gu Hao urged her on repeatedly. After she finally emerged, Gu Hao quickly climbed out of the manhole. Just as he was about to take a deep breath of fresh air, his eyes widened in shock.
Jiang Yushu stood by the manhole, glaring at him angrily.
“Lao Gu,” Jiang Yushu said sternly, looking down at him, “I thought I made it clear that we didn’t want to be involved in this matter anymore.”
“Please… please don’t be angry. Let me explain,” Gu Hao said, hands braced on the ground. “Let me come out first.”
Jiang Yushu snorted and stepped away from the manhole.
Gu Hao awkwardly climbed out of the rainwater well. Standing in the sunlight, he realized that both he and Jiang Ting were covered in dust, cobwebs, and grime, emitting an unpleasant odor.
Jiang Ting wrung her hands nervously, standing beside her mother. “Mom, weren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Work? I came back to cook for you, you little troublemaker!” Jiang Yushu fumed. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”
“Mrs. Jiang, please don’t scold the child,” Gu Hao said, brushing dust off himself. “It’s all my fault…”
“Of course, it’s your fault!” Jiang Yushu turned on him. “Taking a young girl to such a dangerous place—did you consider the consequences?”
Jiang Ting muttered, “It wasn’t dangerous at all, just a bit dark…”
“What I did was indeed inappropriate,” Gu Hao bowed to Jiang Yushu. “Mrs. Jiang, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you scolding Uncle Gu?” Jiang Ting protested, seeing Gu Hao’s embarrassment. “I wanted to go myself.”
“What are you trying to prove? Do you think you’re capable?” Jiang Yushu pushed Jiang Ting. “If I hadn’t come home to cook, I would have…”
“All you think about is cooking!” Jiang Ting pointed at the ground. “Have you thought about Su Lin? Have you considered whether she has anything to eat?”
With that, Jiang Ting turned and walked away.
Jiang Yushu looked from her daughter to Gu Hao, stamped her foot, and chased after her.
Unsure whether to intervene or not, Gu Hao could only watch as the mother and daughter disappeared around the corner of the building. He sighed, bent down to replace the manhole cover, then changed his shoes, removed his mask and gloves, and slowly walked out of the complex.
Filthy and reeking, Gu Hao abandoned the idea of taking a bus home. After walking for nearly an hour, he finally reached his apartment. After washing his face and hands, he tossed the canvas bag and his dirty clothes and shoes in the corner. He had planned to lie down for a half-hour nap before getting up to cook, but he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
When he woke again, night had fallen. Gu Hao lay quietly in bed for about ten minutes before struggling to get up, wondering what he could scrounge up to fill his stomach.
Just as he opened the refrigerator, he heard urgent knocking at the door. He turned and opened it to find Tai Wei barging in, looking him up and down before demanding, “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
Gu Hao was taken aback. “I was sleeping the whole time. I probably didn’t hear it. What’s wrong?”
“I thought something had happened to you,” Tai Wei sighed in relief. “I came over as soon as I finished work.”
“You haven’t eaten either?”
“What do you think?” Tai Wei replied irritably, plopping down on the bed. He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
His gaze then fell on the dirty clothes and shoes in the corner, and he immediately understood.
“Old Gu, you don’t listen, do you?” Tai Wei frowned. “We told you not to go down there alone.”
“I was just scouting ahead,” Gu Hao said, taking two eggs from the refrigerator. “How about some noodles with fried sauce? We can make do with that, okay?”
“Whatever,” Tai Wei opened the window, then walked over to the canvas bag and crouched down to examine its contents. “You came pretty well-prepared. Did you find anything?”
“Found jack shit. The rainwater network is huge; I didn’t get very far,” Gu Hao said, taking an apron off the wall. “Just found some kind of water storage tank and fished out a wool coat.”
Tai Wei looked up, blinking. “A wool coat?”
“Yeah, purple, women’s style,” Gu Hao said, walking towards the door. “No idea whose it was, but it looked pretty new.”
Tai Wei grabbed him, eyes wide. “Say that again?”