Chen Zheng returned to Fengshu Residential Compound. This time, nothing was wrong in his apartment. Kong Bing had stationed officers nearby, and nobody could do anything to him right under the police’s noses.
The next day, Chen Zheng told Kong Bing to withdraw those officers. Kong Bing was furious, but he also understood that if Chen Zheng was going to act as bait, he had to give the big fish a chance to bite.
Chen Zheng spent more time moving around alone. The killer was extraordinarily skilled and would show himself again sooner or later. They could not let him escape this time.
In Luocheng, the Mobile Unit was trying to find evidence that the labor-placement fair was involved in criminal activity. Because Ming Han was particularly concerned about Yunquan Group’s role in helping Huyun Tea Factory change its business, Tang Xiaoli assigned additional personnel to Junan City.
“Liang Yueze doesn’t strike me as someone who obediently follows orders,” Ming Han told Tang Xiaoli after meeting with him.
Tang Xiaoli said, “Back then, Yunquan Group hadn’t fully recovered from its losses. Even if the Liang family patriarch had made a promise to Huyun Tea Factory, Liang Yueze still shouldn’t have approved the investment?”
Ming Han nodded. “After Liang Yubin died, the old man even said the whole group could be abandoned, and Liang Yueze didn’t listen. Why would he become so obedient when it came to Huyun Tea Factory?”
After a few seconds, Tang Xiaoli understood the source of Ming Han’s concern. “Xiao Chen told me that several questions were left unanswered when you investigated in Junan. One was about the missing children connected to the tea factory?”
Ming Han frowned. “That’s the key. Strictly speaking, those seven missing people shouldn’t be called children anymore. They were all high school students, and the oldest was already seventeen, capable of acting independently. But after the initial investigation, their families and the local police all believed they had been trafficked. Back then that conclusion was reasonable, especially when Mei Rui returned and it turned out she really had been trafficked. Yet Mei Rui, the only one who came back, had actually experienced something different from the other six.”
Tang Xiaoli was unfamiliar with the disappearances at Huyun Tea Factory and listened as Ming Han continued.
The seven came from very different families. Some were close; others had conflicts. Mei Rui had serious disputes with her parents. She had run away from home voluntarily and only then fallen into criminals’ hands, eventually being sold to Gezi Town. The other six had not quarreled with their parents, yet disappeared one after another within a very short period.
“I checked the dates. They disappeared when the tea factory was at its most chaotic. One faction wanted reform, the other wanted to keep things as they were. Everyone at the factory was anxious. Yunquan Group had only just begun investing, and nobody knew whether the factory could be saved.” Ming Han narrowed his eyes. “I can’t say the disappearances were definitely connected to Yunquan Group, but first, its investment already deserves examination, and second, the timing really is that coincidental. If these were kidnappings for trafficking, adolescents that age are much harder to abduct and sell than small children. Besides, no other children were abducted in Junan City during the same period. What if something even more terrible than trafficking happened to them? Something more serious, which is why Junan’s investigators have made no progress after all these years? Maybe the investigation went in the wrong direction from the beginning.”
Tang Xiaoli expected Ming Han to ask to go to Junan City himself. Instead, Ming Han shook his head. “Old Tang, I’d like to take some leave.”
On February 26, Chen Zheng returned to the area around Bin Fa’s home. Xingfu Village looked peaceful. Nobody knew which patch of shadow concealed danger. Suddenly he caught sight of a black-clad figure in the rearview mirror. The instant he noticed the figure, it seemed to sense his gaze and retreated.
It was the first time since the attack in his apartment that Chen Zheng had clearly seen someone suspicious. He immediately turned his car around. A motorcycle streaked like a meteor through the traffic. He floored the accelerator and gave chase. At the same time, the sub-bureau officers lying in wait noticed Chen Zheng’s sudden acceleration and moved into action.
The motorcycle headed southeast, as though someone had cast a lure into the night. The fishing line stretched far, appearing and disappearing in the surging undercurrents. Chen Zheng followed closely. The exhaust from the motorcycle seemed an invitation. Someone was waiting for him ahead, and he was impatient to rip away that person’s mask.
The cold wind of early spring poured in through the windows. They had left the city center behind, with its flashing neon. Only lonely streetlamps glided past on either side. Chen Zheng did not know the road well, but Ming Han had once mentioned an old Western-style building, abandoned for who knew how many years, farther along this route.
The motorcycle suddenly shot off the road, all but vanishing into wild grass. Chen Zheng wrenched the wheel around. All four wheels left the ground as his car plunged down the slope in pursuit. The road was dreadful, shaking the car violently. On terrain like this, the motorcycle enjoyed an enormous advantage. In an instant, it disappeared.
In the faint moonlight, however, Chen Zheng spotted a building standing not far away. It was the old building Ming Han had mentioned. The motorcycle had led him here for a reason, and the building was the only place his quarry could be hiding.
Chen Zheng slowed down, studying the surroundings as he approached. He knew Kong Bing’s officers would arrive soon. Any delay now was to his advantage.
Wind blew from the city. The wild grass bowed its heads, and the air carried the scent of growing things in spring. Ordinarily, it might have been a pleasant spring night. At this moment, Chen Zheng had no leisure to appreciate it.
Something moved high up on the old building. The motorcyclist? By the time Chen Zheng focused his eyes, nothing was visible.
Chen Zheng stopped the car. At the back of his waist he carried a gun; he had also brought a tactical knife.
The main entrance was a black, sinister hole. From outside, he could see nothing within. Staying close to the wall for cover, Chen Zheng slipped quickly into the building.
He did not move at once. Only after his eyes had begun adjusting to the darkness did he continue forward against the wall.
He had no idea when the building had been constructed. It was terribly damp, with water seeping down brick walls. Each breath carried the odor of rotting plants and animals.
Clang! A sound came from ahead and to the right. Chen Zheng held his breath and followed noiselessly.
Almost all the tables and chairs in the great hall were broken, heaped haphazardly on the floor like barricades. Chen Zheng wound around them, careful not to touch anything, and reached another door. The noise had come from beyond it. He paused briefly, then advanced.
This room seemed less damp. Several boxes stood beside the wall. Chen Zheng had no time to see what they held. Another clang sounded, clearer this time, from below the floor.
Chen Zheng looked up. The ceiling was very high. Dirty stained-glass windows had long since lost their original colors, and moonlight struggled through their misty panes. This was a spacious room once used for gatherings.
He nudged the carpet with his toe, exposing a floor hatch. There was dust on it, but nowhere near as much as on the surrounding floor. Someone had been coming and going regularly.
Chen Zheng slowly lifted the hatch and found a ladder leading downward.
Beneath the abandoned building lay a basement of unfathomable depth. The dark figure that had haunted Chen Zheng lately had slipped underground. This was clearly an invitation. Should he follow? He crouched at the black opening and considered.
The basement might conceal secrets the figure wanted him to see with his own eyes. There had been plenty of chances to attack Chen Zheng, yet the figure had not taken them. Perhaps Chen Zheng served some other purpose for the shadow and whoever stood behind it.
He had already come this far. Drawing a deep breath, Chen Zheng cautiously descended the ladder. Once he was fully inside the basement, the darkness seemed to thin a little. He could make out the outlines of walls and pillars.
The basement was enormous. Its floor kept sloping downward, and the darkness around him seemed like a wall able to move at will, slowly pressing inward. The oppression born of the unknown followed his every step.
As Chen Zheng walked, he heard footsteps somewhere in the distance. Whenever he stopped, they stopped too. He looked behind him. There was nothing to see.
Suddenly machinery whirred. He lifted his head just as an iron-barred gate dropped from the darkness behind him and slammed into the floor with a clang. His original way back had been cut off.
His heart sped up. He knew at least one pair of eyes watched him from the gloom, unblinking. His senses appeared to have recognized the danger before his reasoning mind. He studied the depths ahead with even greater focus.
An eerie feeling gripped him like a venomous snake crawling from the bottom of a swamp. It was completely unlike the attack in his apartment. “Killer A,” the man connected with Heaven-Measuring Ruler, had been extraordinarily efficient. His blade had swept past Chen Zheng repeatedly, drawing straight lines of blood. Killer A’s attacks had been open and direct, apparently meant to drive him back.
Here, someone was leading him toward an abyss.
What if he was not dealing with the same people at all?
Chen Zheng frowned and stopped. There was no signal whatsoever, as though this place had been cut off from the living world. If the person who had drawn him here was not from Heaven-Measuring Ruler, who could it be?
All he could do was press on, attempt to unmask the other party, and find a way out. The basement branched into many passages, some leading to rooms higher or lower than others. Chen Zheng ran his right hand along a rough wall and noticed a difference. Unlike the earlier sections, these walls had been lined with dry grass. Tall stacks of firewood stood in the corners.
His heart gave a sudden thump as a terrible possibility struck him. If someone started a fire down here, a person unfamiliar with the layout would never escape. Even if firefighters reached the old building, they would struggle to enter the basement to rescue anyone.
Chen Zheng stepped over the dry firewood and hurried. He had to get out as quickly as possible. But the fuel seemed endless, spread throughout the basement, and he was like a blind laboratory rat racing through a maze, going nowhere no matter how fast he ran.
Rapid breathing filled his ears: his own. His eyes, adjusted to the darkness, could see more clearly now, though that seemed no blessing. One iron-barred gate after another appeared ahead. They could be passages to life, or to death.
A faint light showed in the distance. In circumstances like these, it was almost impossible not to pursue it. Chen Zheng took several steps, then stopped sharply. He knew the light might be a still more dangerous trap.
He stood still and caught the scent of something hot, almost scorching. That was wrong. It was late winter turning into early spring, and he was in a damp, freezing basement. Where could such heat come from?
Footsteps approached, their echoes coming from every direction. He spun quickly, trying to pinpoint the sound.
“Officer Chen.” The unfamiliar voice was so rough that he could not tell whether it belonged to a man or woman. Chen Zheng was certain he had never encountered anyone with such a voice.
Beyond an iron gate, a figure appeared but did not approach. A bottomless-looking trench seemed to lie between them.
Chen Zheng stared intently. The visitor’s features were indistinct, but her shape suggested a woman, about 1.6 meters tall, with short hair and a slight disability in her right leg.
“Who are you?” Chen Zheng asked.
The woman took a few steps forward, lifted the flashlight in her hand, and shone it upon her own face. The beam was stark white and dazzling, turning that ordinary face into a sheet of old, worn paper. She spread her lips in a ghastly smile, eyes opened so wide that the amount of exposed white was horrifying.
Anyone confronted with such a “ghost face” would feel a jolt of fear.
“You’re…” Chen Zheng suddenly recovered a thread of familiarity from deep in his memory.
The woman’s grin spread wider, as though the lower half of her face might tear open at any moment. Again her hoarse, androgynous voice emerged. “So you still remember me, brilliant Officer Chen. Then do you remember my older brother? Back then, he was burned alive in a place just like this, because you set him on fire!”
“Cao Mei,” Chen Zheng said.
He remembered now. This woman, indistinguishable from a vengeful ghost, was Cao Mei. She had been a girl not yet eighteen when she went to prison.
His calculations had been wrong. He had assumed the person following him lately was connected to Heaven-Measuring Ruler. In fact, the person who had come calling was an old “enemy” from his past!
Chen Zheng could already guess what would happen next. This basement closely resembled the scene of that old fire. Dry grass and firewood lined every route. The way back had been sealed, and there seemed no exit ahead. Cao Mei intended to burn him alive here to avenge her brother, who had died in a sea of flames.
Chen Zheng ordered himself to remain calm. All he could do now was stall for time until Kong Bing’s reinforcements arrived. Before entering the basement, he had left enough traces behind. Escape was not entirely impossible.
“Cao Shou’s death had nothing to do with me,” Chen Zheng said mildly, as though he had no idea how dangerous his situation was.
As expected, Cao Mei’s rage was so great her eyes seemed ready to burst. Her flashlight struck the iron gate opposite with a loud thud. “You’re still lying! You could have saved him! You wanted him dead! You did it on purpose!”
“Cao Shou started the fire himself. He wasn’t only trying to burn me and my teammates alive. He also wanted to burn the children he had locked up,” Chen Zheng said, staring coldly into Cao Mei’s eyes. “And you were one of those children.”
“Bullshit!” Cao Mei screamed. “I’m his sister, the only family he had! He would never hurt me! He wasn’t going to lock those children up at all. It was you! You and your people forced your way into the building. He was afraid they’d run around and get hurt by you, so he locked them up for their safety!”
Chen Zheng gave a quiet, scornful laugh that nonetheless tore at Cao Mei’s nerves. “You’re still saying that? You’re not a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old kid anymore. After all those years in prison, you still think Cao Shou was a good man? You were both forced by circumstance to commit crimes, and the people you hurt were somehow the real villains?”
Cao Mei shrieked like something inhuman, shaking the iron gate until it creaked. Chen Zheng touched his gun and considered whether he could force his way through the rusted bars.
“Don’t waste your effort, Officer Chen,” Cao Mei cackled. “You’re going to die here today.”
“Burned alive?” Chen Zheng took aim at her. “What do you think is faster, a spreading fire or a bullet?”
Cao Mei shook her head. “It’s useless. Even if you shoot me dead right now, it’s too late.” A faint glow of flames flickered in the darkness behind her. Heat seeped through the cold, wet space. She laughed delightedly. “I never imagined I could avenge my brother without paying any price. I don’t intend to leave here alive, and neither will you. We can stay here together and experience what my brother suffered!”
Chen Zheng frowned. The fire had already begun. It was spreading slowly now, but before long it would reach him from Cao Mei’s end. The woman had gone mad in her determination to kill him. Iron gates sealed the available paths. Unless he found an exit quickly, smoke would rob him of consciousness before the flames even reached him.
Cao Mei’s laughter echoed. Then she began humming a familiar song. It was a song all the abducted children had known, taught to them by welfare-home teachers. Those teachers had taught it to the Cao siblings too, when they were growing up there.
The flames behind Cao Mei grew brighter, swallowing the light of her flashlight. Slowly she backed away, as if being enveloped in fire.
Chen Zheng kicked at the most badly rusted iron gate, but it did not budge. Even bullets struggled to penetrate it. Cao Mei watched as though enjoying a performance, laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks.
Her voice was arrogant and venomous. “Never thought you’d end up like this, did you, Officer Chen? You deserve it! Go down there and apologize to my brother!”
Heat surged toward him. Fire came not only from Cao Mei’s direction but also from the path Chen Zheng had taken. Three dragons of flame rushed upon him, rapidly devouring the dry grass and growing in strength until they converged into a ferocious sea of fire.
Cao Mei’s laughter continued, but she was no longer visible. Breathing became harder for Chen Zheng. The search for an exit had consumed much of his strength. Sweat soaked his back and ran down his face, blurring his sight. He crouched as low as he could and pressed his clothing over his mouth and nose.
Bullets slammed into the iron bars and sparks flew. At last two bars were shot through. Using his remaining strength, Chen Zheng bent the broken bars aside. The metal gashed his palms, and rust entered the wounds, making them burn painfully. He had no time to care. Keeping his body low, he laboriously crawled beneath the barrier.
Yet beyond that gate stood others. Flames danced along their edges, whipping at him like an oil-soaked lash. His chest heaved as he gasped uncontrollably.
The burning fire was rapidly consuming the basement’s oxygen. Eventually the flames would die down on their own, but he would never survive long enough to see it. Suffocation would kill him first.
He instinctively ran toward a dark corner, almost throwing himself against the wall. Sitting there, he pressed both hands against his chest and mouth, trying to slow his breathing. He could not. It was impossible. There seemed to be no oxygen left at all. The firelight before his eyes twisted into dozens of spinning whirlpools, then converged into one enormous vortex. Everything around him seemed to push him toward it. In another instant he would become one with it!
A tremendous crash suddenly rang out. Chen Zheng struggled to open his eyes. Someone was actually sprinting toward him through the vortex of flame. At the same moment, the hallucination of being dragged toward it stopped.
The person reached him with incredible speed. Arms strong as iron hauled him up, while a flame-resistant protective suit was thrown over his head.
“Bro! It’s me!” A familiar voice sounded beside his ear. “Do you know who I am?”
An oxygen mask replaced the clothing covering his mouth and nose. Chen Zheng drew a desperate breath. The instant oxygen rushed into his lungs, his mind seemed to be wrenched back from the fog.
“Ming Han!” The moment he spoke, Chen Zheng felt something acrid burst from his throat.
Confirming he was still conscious, Ming Han immediately shielded him and charged through the inferno. Chen Zheng could see nothing but their footsteps, yet Ming Han’s embrace felt like the safest shelter in the world, holding him securely within it. There was no time to ask why Ming Han had appeared here. He concentrated on keeping pace. In that moment, he trusted without question that Ming Han would get him safely aboveground.
The flames grew fiercer. Burning pieces of wood fell from above. Ming Han swept one falling beam aside with his arm and kicked at the rusty iron gate blocking their route. The gate shattered and clattered apart. Ming Han helped Chen Zheng over it. Chen Zheng caught his breath and used the brief opportunity to put on the protective suit properly. A deep trench lay ahead, with flames pursuing them from both directions. This dry trench might be their only escape.
Ming Han wrapped his arms around Chen Zheng and slid down without hesitation. Flames chased them from behind, but farther along, a door blocked the way. Chen Zheng fired without hesitation. The clash of metal shrieked. Ming Han added a powerful kick. The apparently solid door opened under the combined shots and blows. Ming Han shoved Chen Zheng inside, but the instant Chen Zheng crossed the threshold, he seized Ming Han and refused to let go.
Their bodies crashed against the door, temporarily holding the fire outside. Waves of heat kept rolling toward them, however. In a few minutes the flames would certainly break through this fragile barrier.
After catching a little breath, Ming Han took Chen Zheng’s hand again. “Bro, can you still walk?”
Chen Zheng could not speak. He nodded.
Ming Han nodded too and led him forward.
The path sloped uphill; Chen Zheng could feel it. The trench was the lowest level of the basement, and they were now climbing toward the surface. For some reason, Cao Mei had overlooked this corner when preparing her inferno. Perhaps she simply had not been able to include it.
Chen Zheng’s head throbbed so badly he could think of little else. The uphill escape route reminded him of the brutal training he had endured as a student. His instructors used to say that those who hoped to become detectives should not imagine a clever brain was all they needed. In a crisis, survival often depended not on intellect but on the will to live and exceptional physical conditioning.
They had to train their bodies like special police officers, like special forces soldiers. One day, those bodies would become weapons in their struggle against death.
When he returned to campus as an instructor, Chen Zheng had passed on that same philosophy word for word to the students who called him Instructor Xiao Zheng. He had planted it in the heart of the boy who secretly watched him from beyond the athletic field too.