Chapter Twenty-Five: Breaking the Surface

In the dead of night, the Lu family’s bedroom was brightly lit. Lu Xiang and Lin Zhi lay side by side, neither able to sleep.

“I miss our son so much. I wonder how he’s doing in the police dormitory…” Lin Zhi’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Lu Xiang interrupted her, trying to comfort her. “The dorm’s conditions are better than home, and Yingxi looks after him. He’s not suffering.”

“If it’s so good, why aren’t you staying there? Why bother coming back?” Lin Zhi shot back, her anger rising at her husband’s empty reassurances.

Afraid to provoke her further, Lu Xiang fell silent.

“Maybe we should just let him come home,” Lin Zhi’s tone softened as she pleaded with her husband.

“No. First, he’s still hung up on Ling Yan, refuses to admit his mistakes, and I can’t forgive him for that. Second, the boy is like a block of wood—never thinks before he speaks. He needs to learn how to get along in the world from Yingxi. Otherwise, how can we ever hope he’ll advance, make money, bring honor to the family? I spent most of our fortune sending him to study in Great Britain, for what—”

Lu Xiang’s arguments were cut off by Lin Zhi.

“Lu Xiang, is this how you talk about your own son? Hmph, my son will never become obsessed with status and wealth like you.”

“There you go again. I’m not arguing with you anymore. I’m going to sleep,” Lu Xiang said, turning over.

“As if I want to fight with you. Hmph!” Lin Zhi, equally annoyed, turned her back on him.

The couple ignored each other and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, sunlight spilled into every corner of the dormitory. On the bed, Yingxi had his arms wrapped bear-like around Lu Hehuan as they slept soundly.

Suddenly, both opened their eyes at the same time. Recognizing each other, they shoved apart, each looking thoroughly disgusted.

“Why were you holding me in your sleep? Dreaming of Ling Yan again?” Yingxi snapped.

“You were the one holding me,” Lu Hehuan protested.

“When did I ever hold you? That’s slander!” Yingxi retorted sharply.

The mention of “slander” triggered a thought in Lu Hehuan. He smacked his forehead. “Right! There’s still the clue about the deadly rumor surrounding Jin Lu!”

Morning light glimmered on the Frost and Joy Detective Agency’s signboard. Inside, Liu Rushuang paced anxiously, muttering to herself, “It’s been two days. Why haven’t I heard from Sister Hao yet… Maybe I should look into someone else?”

After a moment’s thought, she made up her mind to head out, only to run into Lu Hehuan at the door.

“Miss Liu, where are you off to?” Lu Hehuan entered, looking a bit lost.

“You’re just in time. How’s Bai Bai’s case going?” Liu Rushuang’s brows knitted in concern as she questioned him eagerly.

“I’ve already proven Bai Yulou’s innocence with an experiment, but Chief Bao says that unless we catch the real culprit, no suspect can be released.” Lu Hehuan’s expression was troubled.

“So what do we do?” Liu Rushuang pressed anxiously.

Lu Hehuan pondered. “Miss Liu, could you help me find out who started the rumor about Jin Lu’s vengeful ghost?”

“I’m already on it. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

Lu Hehuan nodded. “There’s one more thing. I suspect Bai Yulou was hypnotized by the killer into confessing, so could you also look into anyone in Old Zha who practices hypnosis?”

“All right,” Liu Rushuang agreed immediately.

“Inspector Yingxi and I will investigate from other angles. With both of us working, we’ll have a lead soon.” Lu Hehuan tried to reassure her.

Liu Rushuang nodded, hoping his words would prove true and her little assistant would be saved.

Following the trail of Zhu Wolong’s acquisition of residential properties on Huaihua Lane, Lu Hehuan and Yingxi discovered that the homes of all three victims had been bought up.

At the Land Bureau, a staff member was busy sorting documents at his desk when the two detectives approached and showed their credentials.

“Hello, I’m Inspector Yingxi from Old Zha Police Station. This is Detective Lu Hehuan.”

The staff member quickly put down his work. “How can I help you, officers?”

Liu Rushuang, meanwhile, had sent her informants to gather news. Soon, peddlers, cobblers, beggars, fortune-tellers—the whole motley crew—once again crowded into the Frost and Joy Detective Agency.

She gave them instructions, and they all nodded and scattered. Time passed, and one by one they returned. Liu Rushuang questioned them eagerly, but when everyone shook their heads, disappointment washed over her.

As she paced back and forth in agitation, a small vendor ran in, handing her a list. Her face lit up with delight as she read it.

The sun was high when Lu Hehuan and Yingxi finished their investigation and strode briskly out of the Land Bureau—their light steps betraying their success.

“Since all the victims’ homes were bought at a low price by this Zhao Ruoshui, then he must be the killer,” Yingxi said, rubbing his mustache in satisfaction.

Lu Hehuan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Even if he’s not the murderer, he’s a key figure. We should investigate Zhao Ruoshui at once.”

“No problem. I’ll just go to the police archives and ask. Piece of cake,” Yingxi said with confidence.

But reality proved him wrong. As soon as they explained their purpose at the archives, Sister Nan, the stern-faced archivist, blocked their way.

“I said no, and that’s final,” she declared, standing firm like a lone soldier guarding a mountain pass.

“Why not?” Yingxi fumed.

“Because last time, you and Lu Hehuan snuck a peek at the files! You’re both on the archives’ blacklist. If you want to check anything, go get Chief Bao’s written approval. With his note, I’ll help you.”

“You mean I need Chief Bao’s approval just to check a single person?” Yingxi was visibly annoyed.

“Exactly. No note, no access!” Sister Nan stood her ground, hands on hips.

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, waving a chicken feather like it’s an order!” Yingxi sputtered angrily.

“Are you done?” she asked, unmoved.

“Just about,” Yingxi grumbled.

“Then get lost!” With a bang, she slammed the archive room door.

Standing outside, Yingxi was stunned. He hadn’t expected Sister Nan to be so utterly unyielding.

With nowhere else to turn, Lu Hehuan and Yingxi hurried to the police medical examiner’s office for Bao Rong’s help.

“What do you want to look up?” Bao Rong asked, glancing at them.

“Zhao Ruoshui,” Lu Hehuan replied earnestly.

“All right, I’ll check now.”

Just as Bao Rong was about to leave, he collided headlong with Liu Rushuang, who burst in.

“What’s the rush? Someone die at your house?” Yingxi scolded, irritated.

“Brother Xi! My family will live to a ripe old age! Say ptooey, ptooey, quick!” Liu Rushuang retorted angrily.

Yingxi was unmoved, so she grabbed his arm and shook it back and forth.

“All right, all right, I give in. Ptooey, ptooey, there!” Yingxi said helplessly.

Satisfied, Liu Rushuang nodded. “Good.”

Remembering why she was there, Yingxi asked, “So what’s so urgent?”

“There’s been another death on Huaihua Lane! Another widow!” Liu Rushuang announced.

The three of them were shocked.

Lu Hehuan, Yingxi, and the others rushed to the scene—the home of Xia Yun. The dead woman’s house was neat and tidy. Xia Yun’s body lay on the bed, blood at the corner of her mouth. A pale, thirtyish woman stood at the scene, hands tightly grasping her clothes.

Bao Rong put on gloves and began the autopsy while Lu Hehuan scanned the room carefully.

Yingxi noticed the woman trembling like a leaf and approached her. “You called it in?”

She nodded, her words trembling, “Sister Xia and I made plans to shop today. I came at our usual time and found her already…”

“What’s the victim’s name and age?” Yingxi pressed.

“Her name was Xia Yun. She must have been about thirty. A hard life—her husband died last year, and her baby boy passed before his first birthday. She always lived alone.” The woman tried to hold back tears as she answered.

Lu Hehuan stepped to the body and noticed besides a shattered cup on the floor, several locust blossoms remained scattered.

“A widow living alone, locust petals…” Lu Hehuan murmured as he pondered.

After completing the autopsy, Bao Rong straightened and addressed Lu Hehuan. “Preliminary judgment: death by poisoning. Likely arsenic. Time of death around nine last night.”

“Nine o’clock… The same killer…” Lu Hehuan felt more certain that this case was deeply connected to the previous three murders.

He left the house and went to the yard, examining it thoroughly. Suddenly, he spotted several large plane leaves on the ground. Crouching by one, he found a partial shoe print pressed into the leaf.

Yingxi and Liu Rushuang approached.

“Find anything?” Yingxi asked.

“A partial adult male shoe print,” Lu Hehuan said, pointing to the leaf.

Given the previous three murders on Huaihua Lane, Yingxi asked suspiciously, “Could one of our people have stepped there?”

Lu Hehuan shook his head and bagged the leaf for evidence.

“Then let’s round up every adult male in Old Zha and have them match the print!” Yingxi proposed energetically.

“I think we shouldn’t alert the suspect just yet,” Lu Hehuan cautioned.

“Oh? Got a better plan?” Yingxi was puzzled.

Ignoring him, Lu Hehuan turned to Liu Rushuang. “Miss Liu, any news on what I asked you to look into?”

Suddenly remembering, Liu Rushuang exclaimed, “Oh, how could I forget something so important! I was going to the station to deliver this.” She handed Lu Hehuan a list. “These are all the people in Old Zha who know hypnosis.”

“Did you check them all? How many adult men?” he asked.

“Yes, only Cheng Zesheng, who runs a clinic, is an adult male. The rest are women or elderly.”

“Then Cheng Zesheng is highly suspicious,” Lu Hehuan concluded.

Liu Rushuang recalled something else. “Before Bai Bai’s incident, I recommended he go to Cheng Zesheng’s clinic for his eye problem. Now that I think about it, Bai Bai seemed off after that visit.”

“How so?” Lu Hehuan asked.

“He’s usually chatty, but that day he barely spoke.”

Lu Hehuan suddenly remembered. “Have you found out who started the rumor about Jin Lu’s vengeful ghost?”

“Not yet, there are too many people spreading it. I had Sister Hao asking around, but nothing’s come up after days.”

“Keep looking.” Lu Hehuan’s tone was firm, his brow furrowed.

“Okay.”

He turned to Yingxi. “Inspector, let’s pay a visit to Cheng Zesheng’s clinic.”

Yingxi nodded.

As they were about to leave, Lu Hehuan glanced at their uniforms. “Let’s change into plain clothes.”

“Why bother changing just to visit a clinic?” Yingxi grumbled, finding Lu Hehuan’s methods unnecessarily fussy.

Lu Hehuan said nothing. Sensing he had some plan, Yingxi relented.

By late afternoon, patients at Cheng Zesheng’s clinic had thinned out. Disguised in plain clothes, Lu Hehuan and Yingxi entered as Cheng Zesheng washed his hands.

“Doctor, I have a headache,” Yingxi said, rubbing his forehead and feigning illness.

Cheng Zesheng approached, gentle and kind. “Let me take a look.”

As he came over, Lu Hehuan “accidentally” dropped his handkerchief. Cheng Zesheng stepped on it and bent down to pick it up, but Lu Hehuan beat him to it.

“Sorry,” Cheng Zesheng apologized.

“No problem.”

Lu Hehuan tucked away the handkerchief, exchanging secret glances with Yingxi.

“Doctor, just prescribe me something for headaches. I know my own body—it’s an old ailment,” Yingxi said, eager to leave now that they had a sample of the doctor’s shoe print.

“I can’t give you medicine without a diagnosis,” Cheng Zesheng said sternly.

“Forget it, I’ll just buy something at the pharmacy,” Yingxi replied.

“Right, minor problem, just take medicine,” Lu Hehuan chimed in support.

The two left briskly, leaving Cheng Zesheng baffled.

At sunset, walking back to the station, Lu Hehuan and Yingxi discussed the case.

“With my years of experience, I’d bet Cheng Zesheng is the ruthless killer,” Yingxi said, striking a knowing pose.

Lu Hehuan frowned slightly. “I do think he’s suspicious, but that’s not enough to convict him.”

Suddenly, Yingxi’s face lit up. “Didn’t you train at Scotland Yard? Can’t you tell if the shoe prints match?”

“They appear to match, but to be sure, let’s have Xiao Rong examine them,” Lu Hehuan said, studying the handkerchief with the print.

“You can ID fingerprints, let alone shoe prints! I say Cheng Zesheng is our culprit,” Yingxi insisted.

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I feel like the clues came too easily this time,” Lu Hehuan said, uneasy.

“Lu Hehuan, I’m warning you—if Xiao Rong confirms the prints match, we arrest Cheng Zesheng at once. No more delays—four people are dead already, this case must be closed!” Yingxi’s patience snapped.

“All the more reason not to rush. We must find the truth,” Lu Hehuan replied steadfastly.

Yingxi lost it, blocking his path and shouting, “Enough, Lu Hehuan! I’ve put up with you long enough. How many people have you dragged into this case? Now that we have a lead, stop causing trouble! It’s not easy being the inspector—don’t make it harder for me!”

“And is it easy for the victims? If you’re an inspector, act like it. Rushing to convict the wrong person is no better than taking a life yourself!” Lu Hehuan retorted. Before he could finish, Yingxi punched him in the face.

“I’ve had it with you!” Yingxi growled.

“Same to you!”

Lu Hehuan, enraged, punched him back.

“Let’s settle this!”

“Come on!”

The two scuffled, rolling into the grass by the roadside.

Splendid sunset streaked the sky, almost within reach.

After a bout of wrestling, they sat side by side in the grass, clothes and hair covered in weeds, both with bloody noses, dabbing the blood from each other’s faces.

“You didn’t hold back! After all I’ve done for you—you’re ungrateful,” Yingxi complained.

“You weren’t gentle either! After all the breakfasts I make for you—heartless!” Lu Hehuan snapped.

They wiped each other’s faces, but in their irritation pressed too hard.

“Ouch…” they exclaimed in unison.

After cleaning up, they lay in the grass, gazing at the setting sun.

As dusk settled, the earth was washed in orange, the fading light slowly giving way to the evening breeze, which scattered the day’s lingering warmth.

Lu Hehuan felt the tickle of foxtail grass, shifted, and glanced at Yingxi lying beside him. His vision blurred—Yingxi seemed to transform into Ling Yan.

Just like old times: Lu Hehuan lying in the grass, Ling Yan beside him.

“Hehuan, this feels so wonderful,” Ling Yan sighed contentedly.

Lu Hehuan turned to her. “You like watching the sunset lying here?”

“I like lying here with you, watching the sunset.”

Ling Yan smiled gently, the fading glow casting a radiant, sorrowful blush across her innocent face.

Lu Hehuan took her hand. “Then let’s stay like this forever. A whole lifetime.”

Ling Yan closed her eyes, and Lu Hehuan did too.

The distant call of returning birds drifted through the dusk, circling the sky, pulling Lu Hehuan’s wandering thoughts back.

“Lu Hehuan, that’s enough,” Yingxi said, looking at him in disgust as he realized Lu Hehuan was holding his hand.

Snapping out of it, Lu Hehuan quickly let go. “I was just thinking of Ling Yan,” he explained bitterly.

“You’re getting weirder—hugging me in your sleep, grabbing my hand for no reason… You really will go crazy if you don’t let Ling Yan go,” Yingxi sighed.

“Maybe being crazy would help solve the case,” Lu Hehuan replied.

Yingxi looked at him curiously.

“Serial killers have abnormal thoughts, emotions, will, even their movements. If I went mad, maybe my thinking would align with theirs,” Lu Hehuan added.

“Can’t argue with that,” Yingxi laughed.

“Inspector, let me ask you something,” Lu Hehuan said suddenly.

“Go ahead!”

Lu Hehuan instinctively lowered his voice. “Have you ever truly loved someone—not just a fling, but real love?”

“Why tie yourself to one tree when you could run free through the whole forest?” Yingxi paused, dodging the question.

“I don’t believe you were always so casual. You’ve been hurt by a woman, haven’t you?” Lu Hehuan pressed.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m all steel and stone, nothing can hurt me.” Yingxi hesitated, then joked to cover it up.

Lu Hehuan smiled. “I see how you treat Miss Liu. Only the wounded fear real feelings.”

“Real feelings, my foot. You don’t understand. I avoid Liu Rushuang because she’s trouble—she’s like a shirt you can’t take off once you put it on.”

“A shirt?”

Yingxi grabbed Lu Hehuan’s hand. “Yeah! Brothers are like hands and feet, women like clothes. You can’t replace your hands, but who wears the same shirt forever? You’ve got to change it up.”

“Vulgar,” Lu Hehuan spat, pulling his hand away.

“I like vulgarity. The more vulgar, the better,” Yingxi said, unconcerned, grabbing his hand again.

“Gross. Did you wash your hands?” Lu Hehuan recoiled.

“You didn’t seem to mind a moment ago.”

“I’m serious. Germs.” Lu Hehuan’s cleanliness kicked in.

“There you go again.” Yingxi shook his head, quickening his pace.

The doors of the police medical examiner’s office swung open. Bao Rong, materials in hand, was just leaving when he ran into Lu Hehuan and Yingxi.

“Inspector, Hehuan, I was just looking for you.”

“The results are in?” Lu Hehuan asked, beating Yingxi to it.

Bao Rong nodded. “The shoe print on the leaf matches Cheng Zesheng.”

“We can finally close the case!” Yingxi exclaimed, elated.

“Not so fast,” Lu Hehuan frowned slightly.

“Let’s go arrest Cheng Zesheng now!” Yingxi’s impatience surged anew.