Chapter Thirty-Two: All Efforts in Vain

A few rays of sunlight slipped through the window, glancing off the half-closed door of the police morgue, where Bao Rong was busy organizing documents. Bao Kang entered, as usual without knocking, holding a plate of grapes. “Little Rong, these are Dragon Eye grapes from a friend of mine, incredibly sweet.”

Bao Rong stood up to take the grapes. “Thank you, Brother.”

“Eat more, girls become more radiant with grapes,” Bao Kang said.

Bao Rong smiled, gazing at the grapes. “The stems twist and coil like dragons, shrouded in tendrils. The leaves and branches are a lush green. In the radiance of three lights, they cluster as clouds. Amongst them, a few bunches are truly precious—at first like crystal, at last like agate, small and round and closely packed. These grapes are what you’d call radiant.”

“You can’t even eat a grape without reciting poetry—unbelievable. I’m leaving,” Bao Kang shook his head in mock exasperation.

Bao Rong nodded with a smile, thinking how her brother had never changed—he always hated it when people indulged in literary flourishes around him.

Once he’d left, Bao Rong placed the grapes on her desk and went back to her files. Barely a moment later, Zhu Wolong appeared at the door with a bouquet of roses, straightening his tie before knocking.

“Miss Bao?” Zhu Wolong gazed at her eagerly.

Bao Rong looked up, and upon seeing him, her mood soured. “What brings you here, Mr. Zhu?”

He leaned his arm against the doorframe, striking what he thought was a dashing pose. “I was hoping to invite you to lunch.”

“I’m quite busy...” Bao Rong began, but Zhu Wolong interrupted, as though expecting her refusal. “No problem, I’m not busy—I can wait until you’re free.”

With no alternative, Bao Rong glanced at the nearby body storage cabinet. “Very well. I’ll have time once I finish dissecting this body.”

Zhu Wolong’s face turned pale; he swallowed hard, fighting back his fear. “All right, then.”

Bao Rong eyed the autopsy table. “Would you mind helping me move the body onto the table?”

“Ah? I...” Zhu Wolong couldn’t hide his trembling.

“Are you afraid, Mr. Zhu?”

“How could I be afraid? There’s nothing scary about the dead,” he said, barely holding himself together.

Bao Rong smiled wickedly. “Come, then.”

Zhu Wolong shuffled forward but dared not approach. Just then, two police officers passed by in the corridor. Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, Zhu Wolong grabbed one by the arm. “Officer, Dr. Bao needs to dissect a body—could you please help move it to the table?”

He spoke with such earnestness that the two officers were deeply moved; they’d never have imagined that the Old Gate’s wealthy magnate would ask for help so humbly.

They nodded and entered the morgue. Zhu Wolong clasped his hands in gratitude as he watched them from behind.

One officer pointed to the female corpse in the storage cabinet and turned to Bao Rong. “Is it this one, Little Rong?”

She nodded, and the officers deftly transferred the body to the autopsy table.

“Thank you.”

“No trouble. We’ll be going,” they replied with a smile.

After they left, Bao Rong looked toward the door, where Zhu Wolong stood, grinning awkwardly.

Her first plan foiled, Bao Rong quickly devised a new one. She nonchalantly moved her chair. “Since you’re waiting, Mr. Zhu, come in and have a seat.”

She gestured for him to sit opposite the autopsy table. Though reluctant, Zhu Wolong could hardly refuse and sat facing the corpse.

With a smile, Bao Rong said, “I’ll get back to work, then.” She picked up a scalpel and turned to the body.

“Wait—!” Zhu Wolong suddenly cried.

Bao Rong looked at him in confusion. He pulled a black cloth from his pocket and tied it over his eyes. “All right, go ahead,” he said, sitting as steadily as he could.

Bao Rong was speechless; she hadn’t expected Zhu Wolong to be clever enough for that this time.

Though it was broad daylight, the shortcut from the menagerie back to Old Gate’s police station was deserted. Lu Hehuan strode ahead, brow furrowed in thought. Behind her, Ying Xi glared at her retreating back, then jogged to catch up.

“Lu Hehuan, I’m begging you—can’t you let it go? It’s just a missing elephant, and we’ve caught the suspects. If we don’t solve this theft soon, the others will call us useless!”

“I promised to solve it quickly, but there are too many unanswered questions. Zheng Qiu and Zhang Chuan don’t seem like the real culprits,” Lu Hehuan replied, unmoved.

“There you go again,” Ying Xi said, exasperated.

Lu Hehuan, seeing her partner’s reluctance, began to analyze. “First, Zheng Qiu and Zhang Chuan are real magicians. Even if they perform with a ragtag troupe, they’re still known locally. Why would they risk their careers to steal an elephant, which is impossible to hide or sell? Second, if they did steal it, why didn’t they flee with it, instead of staying to become the primary suspects? Third, they never knew Western magic before—how did they suddenly master such a complex trick? Who taught them? Fourth, they said someone paid them to act according to a script, which matches the menagerie owner’s story of someone convincing him to lend the elephant for the show. That person disappeared with the elephant.”

“What’s your point?” Ying Xi asked impatiently.

“My point is: someone else stole the elephant and escaped through the menagerie’s hidden gate in a giant truck—the very same Liu Rushuang mentioned.”

Ying Xi grew angry. “You’re overthinking! That elephant weighs five thousand pounds. If a truck had left, the stone road would show marks. I say Zheng Qiu and Zhang Chuan are lying, trying to confuse you!”

“When they said someone paid them, they looked me directly in the eye, without fear or avoidance. My gut tells me they’re telling the truth,” Lu Hehuan insisted.

Ying Xi scoffed. “Gut feeling? You studied at the top academy in England—try being scientific.”

“Scotland Yard, actually. Gut feeling is a product of science and a form of wisdom,” Lu Hehuan replied earnestly.

“Well, I’m surprised to hear such ‘wisdom’ from someone so upright,” Ying Xi retorted sarcastically.

Lu Hehuan, undaunted, replied sincerely, “Thank you for the compliment, Inspector.”

Ying Xi scowled. “Are you so obtuse you can’t tell I’m mocking you?”

Lu Hehuan laughed easily. “If the content is right, why mind the tone?”

With that, she walked off. Ying Xi pointed after her, shouting, “You sure are bold, twisting logic with such confidence!”

Sunlight poured into the morgue, but Zhu Wolong saw only darkness behind his blindfold. He clutched his roses, legs shaking, humming a tune—a truly comic sight.

Bao Rong leaned against the autopsy table, not dissecting, but resting her chin on her hand, pondering how to deal with Zhu Wolong. Glancing at the grapes on her desk, an idea struck. She quickly peeled two grapes and went to Zhu Wolong.

“Mr. Zhu, put down the flowers and help me with something.”

He set the flowers down and reached out curiously. “What is it?”

Without answering, Bao Rong placed the two grapes in his palm.

He rolled them between his fingers, puzzled. “What is this? Damp and round.”

With a grim face, Bao Rong drew close. The air grew chilling. “Damp and round—aren’t they the eyeballs of that female corpse?” she whispered ominously.

Zhu Wolong screamed, flinging the grapes away as he tried to run, forgetting his blindfold and crashing into the autopsy table, his hand landing on the corpse.

Voice trembling, he fumbled with the cloth, “Miss Bao?”

“It’s best not to remove the blindfold, Mr. Zhu. What you’re touching is a half-dissected corpse, and the door is behind you,” Bao Rong said with feigned concern.

Zhu Wolong screamed again, turned, and bolted, smacking into the doorframe before stumbling out of the morgue.

At that moment, Liu Rushuang arrived at the police station’s entrance, colliding with the panicked Zhu Wolong.

“Mr. Zhu, what’s the matter? Why so flustered?” she asked, perplexed by his behavior.

Feigning composure, Zhu Wolong managed a weak smile. “Nothing, nothing—just getting some exercise.”

“Exercising at the station?” Liu Rushuang grew more bewildered.

He cleared his throat and flexed his arms. “Yes, I have things to do. Excuse me.”

With that, he hurried away.

“Is he busy or not? I’m thoroughly confused,” Liu Rushuang muttered, watching his retreating figure.

She turned to enter the station and saw Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi returning from the other direction. She hurried over.

“Brother Xi!” she called out, sweet and clear, but as always, Ying Xi met her with impatience.

“You’re here again?”

“Please, come with me to see Bai Bai—he’s threatening to kill himself again, wanted to jump into the river earlier. Luckily, your quick-fix method worked.”

“You knocked him out?”

She nodded.

“Then what do you need me for?”

“But what if he wakes up?”

“Knock him out again,” Ying Xi replied coldly.

As he turned to return inside, Liu Rushuang clung to his arm. “He’s still by the river, and I can’t carry him. I can’t just leave him there, can I?”

Seeing Ying Xi unmoved, she shot a pleading look at Lu Hehuan.

Lu Hehuan caught on. “Inspector Ying, protecting citizens is a police duty. We should check on him.”

Ying Xi glared at Liu Rushuang in annoyance but had already decided to go.

She winked at Lu Hehuan in gratitude.

As the sun set, Bai Yulou was found embracing a tree, tied to its trunk, eyes closed, blood streaming down his forehead—a scene both tragic and comical in the dying light.

Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi arrived at the riverbank with Liu Rushuang, both stifling laughter at Bai Yulou’s predicament.

“Why tie him like this?” Ying Xi asked. He’d bound countless suspects, but never seen anything quite like it.

“I was afraid he’d panic when he woke, so at least he could hug the tree for comfort,” Liu Rushuang explained.

Lu Hehuan, struggling not to laugh, approached Bai Yulou and, seeing his bleeding head, winced in sympathy. “Miss Liu’s remedy may have been a touch too forceful.”

At that moment, Bai Yulou opened his eyes, momentarily confused by the three faces before him. “Where am I?” He struggled and realized he was tied up. Looking at Lu Hehuan, he asked, “Why am I tied here?”

Lu Hehuan pointed at Liu Rushuang. “Not my doing—it was Miss Liu.”

She rushed over, excited. “Bai Bai, you’re awake!”

Bai Yulou, seeing her, hesitated, then wailed, “Let me die, just let me die...”

“What are we going to do with him?” Liu Rushuang fretted.

Suddenly, Lu Hehuan remembered something. “My mentor once said that to break deep hypnosis, you can use distraction—if the subject’s attention is wholly shifted to something new, their mind clears, and previous suggestions dissipate.”

“You mean, make Bai Bai focus on something else?” Liu Rushuang brightened.

“Exactly.”

Ying Xi moved to test it. “Bai Yulou, look into my eyes.”

Bai Yulou turned away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“How can we focus his attention if he won’t even look at us?” Ying Xi asked, hands on hips.

“Think of something captivating enough to hold his gaze, something his eyes will follow,” Lu Hehuan suggested.

Liu Rushuang suddenly exclaimed, “I’ve got it!”

The full moon hung high. Lu Xiang and Lin Zhi sat across from each other at dinner.

“I saw Kongming lanterns for sale today. Let’s buy one and set it off,” Lin Zhi suggested brightly.

“Why? It’s not the fifteenth—what’s the point?” Lu Xiang replied, barely glancing up.

“You used to set lanterns with me all the time when you were courting me,” she pouted.

“That was for young people. We’re too old for such things.”

At the word “old,” Lin Zhi’s face fell and she set her bowl down. “Who are you calling old?”

Lu Xiang instinctively leaned back, trying to placate her. “I meant myself.”

“Then eat less, lest you get indigestion at your age.”

Before he could protest, she gathered the dishes and carried them off, leaving him to mutter, “Kongming lanterns are for the young—really...”

The light was on in Bao Rong’s room, where she sat reading at her desk. Bao Kang stood beside her, helpless.

“You nearly scared Mr. Zhu half to death today. He’s willing to let bygones be bygones and invited you to set off a lantern, yet you refuse.”

“Brother, I really have no interest,” Bao Rong replied coldly, not looking up.

“Interest can be cultivated, and so can feelings. Lanterns are for young people to build affection. Think—two people holding a lantern and releasing it into the sky. How beautiful, how romantic!”

“Lanterns weren’t invented for romance. They’re called Kongming lanterns, after Zhuge Kongming of the Three Kingdoms. Back then, he was besieged and used the lanterns to send a message for help, which Liu Bei found and rescued him. Since then, they’ve been a way to commemorate the ancients, not romance, and certainly not for cultivating feelings.”

Bao Kang, ignoring her explanation, focused only on her refusal. “Of course they build affection. Two people holding a lantern will inevitably touch hands, and from there, they’ll hold hands for real.”

“I have reading to do. If you have nothing else, please leave,” she said, slightly annoyed.

Bao Kang looked wounded. “You’re throwing me out? Our parents died young—I raised you with my own two hands...”

Impatient, Bao Rong got up and shooed him out. “I know, Brother. You raised me. I’ll be dutiful. Now please go.”

“Oh, so this is your idea of filial piety!” he grumbled as she pushed him out and shut the door, finally able to breathe freely.

Night had fully fallen. Lu Hehuan, Ying Xi, Liu Rushuang, and Bai Yulou took several Kongming lanterns to an open field outside the city.

A chilly wind blew; Ying Xi shivered and scoffed at Liu Rushuang, “Will this childish nonsense work?”

Liu Rushuang was confident. “Of course. When we set off lanterns, we always stare at them, right? My mind always goes blank when I do.”

“As if you ever have anything in your mind,” Ying Xi retorted.

“Miss Liu’s right,” Lu Hehuan agreed.

“What’s the point? Waste of time, if you ask me,” Ying Xi grumbled.

Liu Rushuang pouted, aggrieved. “What’s wrong with lanterns? Even if it doesn’t break the hypnosis, it’ll at least bring Bai Bai peace. I’ll tie a blessing for him to the lantern, too.”

Bai Yulou looked at her, deeply moved. Lu Hehuan noticed and quietly understood.

Liu Rushuang placed the lantern on the ground and looked at Ying Xi. “Brother Xi, light the fire—we’ll set it off together.”

Ying Xi, impatient, took out matches. Bai Yulou eagerly snatched them, his gaze fixed on Liu Rushuang. “Let me and Sister Shuang do it.”

“Be my guest,” Ying Xi said, relieved.

Bai Yulou struck a match and lit the lantern; together, he and Liu Rushuang released it into the sky.

She watched it rise, delighted. “It’s flying, it’s flying...”

The lantern climbed higher and higher. Liu Rushuang, her face glowing in the red light, looked adorable as she gazed up. Bai Yulou stared at her in a daze, his eyes filled with adoration.

She turned to him with concern. “Bai Bai, do you feel better now?”

He quickly looked away from her to the lantern and nodded.

Seeing his spirits lift, she pressed, “You don’t want to die anymore, do you?”

Realizing what she meant, Bai Yulou looked away from the lantern, guilt flooding his face. “Sister Hao and Cheng Zesheng are innocent—I’m the real murderer...”

Disappointment washed over Liu Rushuang, but Lu Hehuan took it all in, her mind already working.