Lou Xiaoguo began to applaud. The monotonous clapping sounded harsh and mocking in the interrogation room, which had suddenly gone quiet. “Well said. Great analysis. Perfectly logical. Even I, the ‘person involved,’ almost believe it.”
As he spoke, Lou Xiaoguo nodded. “Why did I come home late? I don’t even remember anymore. Isn’t it perfectly normal for a teenager not to want to go home and to wander around outside? I heard Li Shuxing was popular and often helped his classmates. Why would he bother targeting someone like me, whose family barely had any money? Ping Yiyi? Honestly, if she hadn’t been murdered, I probably would’ve forgotten her a long time ago. Now you insist they bullied me, and it seems I can’t really refute you? So then…”
He leaned forward, lowering his voice until it was deep and quiet. His demeanor was completely different from that of the young shop manager standing in the gift store. “Officer Chen, where’s the evidence? Where’s the evidence that they bullied me, that I killed them, and that Teacher Xue covered for me?”
Chen Zheng met his gaze at close range. Something like fire flared in Lou Xiaoguo’s pitch-black eyes, as if he were openly challenging the police.
Chen Zheng said slowly, “You were very lucky. Xue Chenwen no longer wanted to live at the time, so he was willing to trade his life for yours. And he gave you a false impression: so killing someone was actually this easy. Even if you made a mistake, someone would come along to clean up after you. That was your misfortune.”
Lou Xiaoguo frowned, not immediately understanding what Chen Zheng meant.
“That’s why you arrogantly left behind your ‘signature.’ And in the Zhong Lishan and Kong Chunxiang case, you took one unnecessary extra step and dumped the bodies at the stationery factory.” Chen Zheng enunciated each word, and as expected, he saw Lou Xiaoguo’s expression tighten abruptly.
Chen Zheng gave him a light push and stood. “I’ve been very curious why the killer would dump the bodies in a place with no apparent connection to them. So next, I’m going to start with the stationery factory. What do you think? Will I find evidence there?”
With that, Chen Zheng pushed open the door and left. Lou Xiaoguo remained leaning forward. The camera had already stopped recording, and the door was shut. A detective beside him urged him to stand, but Lou suddenly sagged back against the chair as if all support had left his body. He lowered his head, the upper half of his face hidden in shadow. He sat as still as a statue, and no one knew what the “statue” was thinking.
Chen Zheng and Major Crimes went to Lanwanba on the outskirts. The Time Alley Stationery Factory, where Zhong Lishan and Kong Chunxiang’s bodies had been dumped three years ago, had been completely repurposed and was now a secondhand bookstore.
A short-haired young person in an apron was moving a newly delivered shipment into the courtyard, several large boxes of books with no one nearby to help. A neighboring shopkeeper saw and called out loudly, “Brother Jie, moving things again? Leave it there, I’ll help you!”
The young person straightened and smiled. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll go get a cart.”
Only then did Chen Zheng realize that this young person, nearly one meter eighty tall but very slender, was an androgynous-looking woman.
The woman saw Chen Zheng and the other officers and froze. “You are…”
An officer from Major Crimes stepped forward, showed his ID and the search notice, and said, “We’re investigating the Kong Chunxiang and Zhong Lishan case. We’ll need your cooperation.”
The woman had plain features, and even her surprise seemed muted. Her voice was light and airy. If the end of it had not trembled slightly, an outsider might not have noticed that she was unsettled. “That case… you’re still investigating it? It’s been so many years.”
The officer said, “That’s because it was never solved.” He looked inside. “Where’s Boss Du?”
The woman said, “My uncle doesn’t work here anymore. I’m in charge now.”
Chen Zheng stepped forward. “I only joined this investigation recently, so I don’t know much about what happened three years ago. Could I speak with you alone?”
The woman’s gaze shrank back, and she looked frightened. The officer said, “This is Teacher Chen, a senior officer from the Provincial Department. We’re determined to solve this case this time. That way you can get on with your business too, right?”
The woman forced a smile. “Then come in. My uncle hasn’t been here for a long time…”
Chen Zheng followed her. “You’re Du Guangbao’s niece?”
The woman stopped. “He’s my mother’s younger brother. My name is Ren Jie.” Whether because she trusted the police or wanted to prove it, she hurried back into the room, took out her ID, and held it up. “See?”
Chen Zheng glanced at it and told her to put it away. “I read the investigation report from back then. This used to be a stationery factory run by Du Guangbao, and business was good. Why did it suddenly become a bookstore?”
Ren Jie twisted her hands against her apron, visibly uncomfortable. “B-because the case had too much of an impact. My uncle… he couldn’t keep it going.”
“Don’t be nervous. Take your time,” Chen Zheng said. “We’re here to solve the problem.”
Ren Jie nodded, then asked uneasily, “Can you tell me why you started investigating this case again after so long?”
Chen Zheng told her the truth. “Because new leads have appeared. Three years ago, the case went unsolved because there weren’t enough clues.”
Ren Jie relaxed a little. “Then what do you want to ask? I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Chen Zheng took out photographs of Zhong Lishan and Kong Chunxiang. “Do you know these two victims?”
Ren Jie shook her head. “No. You showed me their photos before. I don’t know who they are.”
Chen Zheng asked, “Were you living here at the time too? Helping Du Guangbao?”
“I’ve always lived here.” Ren Jie’s voice rose on the word “always.” Afterward she lowered her head. “Sorry.”
Chen Zheng observed her and felt that the relationship between her and Du Guangbao might not be as simple as that of an uncle and niece. He changed the subject. “What kind of person is Du Guangbao?”
Ren Jie looked surprised. “My uncle? He… he shouldn’t have anything to do with the case.”
“You can’t say that for certain,” Chen Zheng said. “There are so many little factories and shops along this street. Why were the bodies dumped at the stationery factory?”
Ren Jie thought for a moment. “My uncle isn’t a good person, but he couldn’t possibly kill anyone.”
Chen Zheng asked, “Why?”
“He doesn’t have the nerve.” Contempt surfaced involuntarily on Ren Jie’s face.
Chen Zheng said, “I meant, why do you say he isn’t a good person?”
Ren Jie stiffened and looked away. Chen Zheng continued, “It sounds like the two of you aren’t very close, but before the incident you had been living together all along?”
Ren Jie was silent for a long time. Then her shoulders loosened. “He raised me. My parents died when I was very young. He gave me food and kept me alive.”
Like other major cities, Nanshan City had expanded outward gradually from its old urban districts. Decades ago, Lanwanba was more like a small town hanging off the edge of Nanshan City, and Ren Jie had been born in that little town. Her mother had been a famous beauty in Lanwanba, not only pretty but strikingly tall. Her mother’s younger brother, Du Guangbao, was the opposite: short and ugly, like Tu Xingsun.
When Ren Jie’s mother was in her teens, constant praise went to her head. She left home to work elsewhere and met a handsome man, Ren Jie’s father. But neither of them had money or education. Apart from their looks, they had nothing.
Back then, there were not many jobs suited to good-looking young people who had no skills, and neither of them could endure hard labor. After Ren Jie was born, they both entered the sex industry. No one knew which of them contracted the illness first. Within two years, both were dead.
Du Guangbao, on the other hand, had been looked down on by everyone around him since childhood, but he finished high school, sold pigments in the city, made a little money, and took in the orphaned Ren Jie. Ren Jie was too young then and regarded Du Guangbao as her only family. She did not understand that there was no such thing as a free lunch. Du Guangbao took her in because he wanted to take possession of the courtyard registered in her mother’s name, and because he also wanted to use Ren Jie to make money.
As she grew older, she inherited her parents’ looks and height. At first Du Guangbao was delighted, but then she seemed to keep growing without stopping. Too tall. What beauty was that tall? She looked like a man.
At first Du Guangbao wanted to sell her to rich men, but every wealthy boss who showed interest thought she was too tall, so he had to give up. He often complained that she had grown so tall because she ate too much and scolded her for wasting money. Ren Jie understood what he wanted, so she simply cut her hair short and dressed like a boy. Du Guangbao was furious, but there was nothing he could do about it.
She was not happy, but somehow she did not seem to need happiness either. After years in sales, Du Guangbao had accumulated contacts and capital and prepared to open a stationery factory, still focusing mainly on pigments. Ren Jie was curious where he planned to build it. Du Guangbao said, “Isn’t our courtyard ready-made?”
Du Guangbao intended to take complete possession of the courtyard Ren Jie’s mother had left her. Ren Jie thought about protesting but ultimately stayed silent. She had always been like this, unable to say no to people. And this man was the uncle who had raised her. Without Du Guangbao, she would have been sent to an orphanage long ago and left to fend for herself.
Du Guangbao moved quickly. Before long, the courtyard had been converted into a stationery factory. He even gave it an artsy name: Time Alley.
It had to be said that Du Guangbao had a sharp mind for making money. As soon as the stationery factory opened, he began selling goods through livestreams and packaged himself as a cultured, sentimental middle-aged man. Each of the pigments promoted by the factory came with its own story and a deliberately elegant name. Later the line expanded to pens, notebooks, and other products. Time Alley was also among the earliest stationery factories in Han Province to make decorative tape and journaling supplies.
Du Guangbao personally appeared in the livestreams and maintained accounts on multiple platforms, building up a poet persona. He had been ugly when he was young, but after careful packaging, he somehow acquired a kind of decadent sophistication. Combined with the modern poems he wrote, it actually won him a large following.
Ren Jie watched all this with the attitude that it had nothing to do with her. She was also part of the stationery factory, but Du Guangbao gave her work that was easy and monotonous. She did not need to appear in public. She merely sorted shipping forms in the warehouse.
Du Guangbao hired several attractive, well-proportioned streamers. They passed in front of Ren Jie looking polished and glamorous, making her seem even drabber by comparison. But she was satisfied with things as they were. As long as Du Guangbao did not suddenly get another idea about selling her to a rich man, she was content to muddle along.
Before long, however, something happened that neither she nor Du Guangbao had expected.
That day Du Guangbao was livestreaming himself reciting a newly written poem, but his assistant had eaten something bad and kept running to the bathroom. The livestream could not be left without an assistant, so Ren Jie was temporarily called in to help. She was unfamiliar with livestreaming and did not know which angles the camera would capture. The moment she entered the room, her face appeared on-screen.
She had rushed over from the warehouse in work clothes, her expression wooden, but the comments suddenly exploded. Viewers all began asking who this handsome young guy was and how someone could possibly look that good.
At the time Ren Jie did not realize they were talking about her. She did not dare look at the camera and kept her head down while doing what Du Guangbao told her. Du Guangbao repeatedly looked at her with feverish excitement, making her uncomfortable. She only wanted the livestream to end as quickly as possible. Not long after, Du Guangbao suddenly introduced her to the viewers, saying she was his nephew, that she would become a streamer after a while, and that today was only her “internship.”
When she was pushed in front of the camera, she was completely at a loss and could not say a single sentence. Yet merely sitting there brought in countless tips. Everyone praised her looks in wildly exaggerated terms, calling her a beautiful youth sealed away for ten thousand years, asleep for a thousand. Du Guangbao grinned from ear to ear and promised the viewers that she would appear on-stream much more often in the future.
After the livestream ended that day, Du Guangbao rubbed his hands and circled around her. “I must’ve been blind! How did I never notice you were this suited to streaming? Jie’er, Jie’er, you really are Uncle’s money tree! Work hard. Everything Uncle has will be yours someday!”
After that, Du Guangbao turned her into a streamer.
Du Guangbao was very clever. He knew exactly what viewers liked and wanted to see. He crafted Ren Jie’s persona as an androgynous beautiful boy, styled all her makeup and clothing toward a neutral look, and forced her to speak in a false voice. If her voice occasionally sounded too feminine, he explained it away as a boyish voice. Before long, she became the most popular streamer under Du Guangbao’s control.
But pleasing consumers in front of a camera caused her enormous pain. She was not good at it, yet Du Guangbao refused to let her stop.
“Think carefully about who raised you this big! Why do you think Uncle is this old and still never got married? Isn’t it because I had a burden like you hanging off me? How can you be so selfish, thinking only about yourself and never about Uncle? Do you think Uncle makes money for himself? Uncle wants you to have a good life!”
She could not bear hearing those words. Every time Du Guangbao pressured her this way, she could only obediently sit in front of the camera. Yes, she owed Du Guangbao. She could not leave this home. Du Guangbao was her last family member, and she did not want to lose family again.
During those years, Du Guangbao’s business flourished. Time Alley successfully built two personas, the sentimental poet and the fragile beautiful boy, and there were even plenty of people who shipped the two of them together.
Du Guangbao started out focusing on pigments, then used cultural and creative merchandise to milk the fans. He even published a book and put on a show of signing copies during livestreams, making huge amounts of money. Before Zhong Lishan and Kong Chunxiang’s bodies were discovered, Du Guangbao was planning to buy up several neighboring courtyards and expand the stationery factory.
The murders put an abrupt stop to all of it. Du Guangbao could not explain why the bodies had appeared inside his factory. Police came repeatedly to investigate. Although they found no evidence connecting Du Guangbao to the crime, rumors that “Du Guangbao killed people” spread throughout Lanwanba.
Even more devastatingly, once internet users learned there had been a murder at the stationery factory, they came from all directions to “investigate.” Du Guangbao and Ren Jie were stripped bare online. Everyone finally learned that Du Guangbao was no cultured sentimental poet at all. Without the filter, the modern poetry he wrote was complete nonsense, nothing but self-indulgent whining.
The stationery factory’s courtyard did not even belong to Du Guangbao. He had forcibly taken it from his deceased sister. The factory’s livestream business looked glamorous, but Du Guangbao had long been withholding payment from designers and artists. Because he had so many fans and held the advantage in public opinion, whenever designers or artists posted online demanding payment, his fans attacked them instead. He was a textbook deadbeat debtor.
The fact that Ren Jie was a woman was exposed too. Netizens cursed her for pretending to be a man to deceive fans, and for a while every comment section connected to the Time Alley Stationery Factory was flooded with talk of their fall from grace.
Du Guangbao insisted he had not killed anyone and did not know the victims. He thought that once the police investigation ended and the online uproar died down, things would improve. Instead, netizens kept digging deeper and uncovered problems such as pigments failing quality inspections and carcinogenic ingredients. Several months later, Du Guangbao accepted reality and realized the stationery factory could no longer continue, so he simply shut it down. He also decided the old courtyard had bad feng shui and returned it to Ren Jie.
“He’s doing another business now. The stationery factory is gone, but he made a lot of money from it in those years,” Ren Jie said. “Once he changed industries, no one cared anymore that he’d manufactured a persona. And now he doesn’t show his face publicly.”
Chen Zheng looked around the courtyard. It had some age to it, but it had been arranged with a strong literary atmosphere, resembling the independent bookstores that were currently popular. “After Du Guangbao left, you turned this place into a bookstore?”
Ren Jie corrected him. “A secondhand bookstore.”
Chen Zheng asked, “How’s business?”
Ren Jie said, “Nothing like before, but everyone looks out for me. I make enough to live.”
“Looks out for you?” Chen Zheng glanced toward the courtyard entrance. “You mean the neighboring businesses?”
Ren Jie nodded. “Mm. And the customers too. They’re willing to come here and buy books.”
Chen Zheng said, “Forgive me for asking, but you just said that after you and Du Guangbao’s personas collapsed, the internet was full of people cursing you. He’s gone now, and you stayed behind to keep doing business. Do your customers know…”
“They do. A lot of them used to be fans of the stationery factory.” Ren Jie looked up, gratitude in her voice. “When everything first happened, they felt I had deceived them, because I wasn’t some beautiful boy at all. But some people were willing to listen to my explanation and believed I hadn’t done it intentionally. Actually, my uncle returning the courtyard to me was partly thanks to them. If they hadn’t rallied people to boycott Time Alley, my uncle might not have given it up.”
Ren Jie sighed, a shy smile appearing at the corner of her lips. “They asked what I wanted to do in the future and encouraged me not to be so insecure. Since I had the courtyard back, I should live properly. I thought about it for a long time and decided to open a secondhand bookstore. I don’t need to make much money, just enough to live peacefully.”
When she spoke about the secondhand bookstore, Ren Jie’s tone became noticeably lighter. Even when she had still been streaming for Du Guangbao, she often visited small bookstores in the city to hunt for secondhand books, so she knew something about the trade. Lanwanba was on the outskirts, and her courtyard was fairly large, both of which gave her advantages in running the shop. The fans who supported her also helped a great deal. Last year she opened the bookstore and once again appeared on camera to introduce her merchandise.
This time she was not being forced. She did it willingly. She awkwardly introduced books she liked and shared her thoughts after reading them. Her sincerity and plainness gradually brought her new fans and customers.
“That’s pretty good,” Chen Zheng said. “I hope this investigation won’t affect your life and business too much.”
Ren Jie said, “I understand.”
Chen Zheng asked, “After your secondhand bookstore got going, did Du Guangbao ever come back to cause trouble for you?”
“No. We barely have any contact now.” Ren Jie explained that although the secondhand bookstore looked decent, it did not make much money. She herself was satisfied, but Du Guangbao would never care about such a small amount.
Chen Zheng took out a photograph of the cicada graffiti on the wall. “Do you remember this drawing?”
Ren Jie studied it carefully and asked in confusion, “That’s the outside of the courtyard wall? There are lots of children around here. Kids are always scribbling on the walls. I painted over it when I renovated last year.”
Chen Zheng had noticed when he arrived that the courtyard wall had been redone and the cicada graffiti was gone. Seeing Ren Jie grow nervous again, he said, “This image may have been the killer’s ‘signature,’ so I wanted to ask whether you’ve ever seen similar graffiti.”
Ren Jie sucked in a breath, stunned. “The killer drew it? I-I haven’t seen any others. When did the killer come draw it? Last time… last time the police never said anything about a drawing!”
The graffiti lead had only recently been taken seriously, so naturally the police had not asked about it three years ago. Chen Zheng asked, “Do you know Lou Xiaoguo?”
Ren Jie looked blank. “Who? I’ve never heard of him.”
Chen Zheng opened a photograph. “This young man.”
Ren Jie looked down. Two seconds later, she abruptly straightened, undisguised shock filling her eyes.
Chen Zheng asked, “You know him?”
Ren Jie instinctively shook her head. “N-no. I don’t know him.”
Chen Zheng said, “You really don’t?”
Perhaps because of the shock, Ren Jie’s already pale face seemed even more bloodless. She stopped meeting Chen Zheng’s eyes and said softly, “I don’t know him. I don’t know who that is.”
From their previous conversation, Chen Zheng had already formed a preliminary understanding of Ren Jie’s personality. She was very introverted and timid at heart, always wanting someone to depend on. In the past that person had been her uncle, Du Guangbao. Now it was the fans who continually encouraged her. She was not good at pretending, and her emotions showed easily on her face. She insisted now that she did not know Lou Xiaoguo, but her reaction had already betrayed her.
She definitely knew Lou Xiaoguo, but she truly knew nothing about the graffiti and did not know his name was Lou Xiaoguo.
Why had she reacted so strongly to Lou Xiaoguo’s photograph? Had he approached her under another name? If Lou Xiaoguo were merely an ordinary acquaintance, why would she hide the fact that she knew him?
Chen Zheng was in no hurry. He said slowly, “The person I just showed you is one of our key suspects. The cicada graffiti may also have been drawn by him.”
Ren Jie remained lost in shock, staring at the courtyard gate like a wooden figure.
Chen Zheng said, “You’ve heard about the case everyone’s been talking about lately, right? The head of Yingqiang Group was murdered, and similar graffiti was found at the scene. That’s why we’ve reopened the Zhong Lishan and Kong Chunxiang case.”
Ren Jie began to tremble. “He… he killed other people too?”
Chen Zheng narrowed his eyes. “‘He’? Which ‘he’?”
“No, no, I don’t know which he.” Ren Jie hurried to explain. “I only asked because I heard you talking about graffiti. I don’t know who the killer is.”
Chen Zheng soothed her. “It’s all right. I asked too quickly. How about this? I’ll come again. If there’s anything you want to tell me, contact me anytime.”
“O-okay.”
Chen Zheng had already reached the courtyard gate when he suddenly turned back. “Actually, I haven’t finished telling you about the graffiti.”
Ren Jie looked distracted. “What?”
Chen Zheng said, “The graffiti first appeared not on your courtyard wall, but near the table-tennis court at an abandoned factory. You grew up in Nanshan City, right? Have you heard about the Nanxi Middle School case?”
At first Ren Jie looked as though she did not understand, then her eyes widened. “You mean the case where that teacher killed students?”
Chen Zheng said, “Right. We now suspect the same person committed all three cases.”
“But…” Sweat appeared on Ren Jie’s forehead. “But didn’t that teacher die years ago?”
Chen Zheng shrugged. “Maybe there was another killer.”
Sweat slid down Ren Jie’s cheek. After a moment, she looked away. “I-is that so.”
Elio’s Notes: Tu Xingsun is a short, earth-traveling character from the Chinese classic Investiture of the Gods. The comparison here is about Du Guangbao’s looks, not his powers.