Silent Reading - Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Macbeth Thirteen

TL: QuantumC

8.15.2020

Robbery, violence, murder…the goals and consequences of these acts are very clear and the punishment for them clear too. So long as the perpetrator could be nailed and some evidence be identified, at least justice could be served.

But not always.

Consider the cases where some kids throw rocks across the highway for fun but results in a car accident that kills an innocent passerby, or that where a poor beggar steals a sewer cover on the street but causes a traveler at night to fall into the well and drown, or that where the social elites make a light decision that end up causing others to bankrupt and commit suicite in despair…who could the victims turn to for justice then?

Their family isn’t any bit more lowly than the rest; their suffering and pain isn’t a penny lighter or an inch less real. If the ones that have wronged them lived with guilt and repent, perhaps it’ll give them a little consolation. But the nobility of men is so easily fractured: when faced with the grueling torment of one’s conscience, most would choose to self-hypnotize and succumb to the plentiful choices of excuses:

I didn’t mean it.

I wasn’t after you.

I had no idea that it would turn out a catastrophe.

I am a victim of the society myself…

How come you were so unlucky?

Afterall, life itself is the real evil-doer to blame.

The wreck that the two of them drove – the vehicle they were assigned that day – had a wonky steering wheel that never returned to center after a turn. The break was bumpy too. Many times it felt like they were about to rear-end the car in front of them. In a word, not many parts of the car were properly functioning and it probably needed a thorough service. Luo Wenzhou first thought that Fei Du, who was used to driving Mercedes like a bumper car, would be pissed off by it pretty soon. But to his surprise, he only lightly frowned at the very beginning, then soon grew on the old government vehicle and operated with ease.

Luo Wenzhou noticed the odd route he was taking and asked: “Where are we going?”

“The Heng’ai Private Hospital”. Fei Du answered, “Zhou Huaijin only stayed at the public hospital for one day. Right after he completed the written declaration with you guys, he transferred to that private hospital which he owned shares of. His brother said that it’s because the noise and crowds at the public hospital aren’t good for his recovery. I bet they were just trying to avoid the press.”

“Didn’t he just get a little scratch on his leg? I heard from Tao Ran that it didn’t even reach the tendon. We strongly condemn such waste of medical resources (1).” Luo Wenzhou patted Fei Du, “careful you: extravagance is usually the first step into corruption of the character!”

(1). We strongly condemn…: jargon used by governmental officials, especially when commenting on international affairs.

Fei Du the psycho just could not bear to speak normal human language for more than three sentences. Hearing this, he immediately saw the opportunity to sneak in a flirt: “You call this extravagance? Then with you sitting in my car right now, my extravagance must warrant a death sentence.”

Most of Luo Wenzhou’s face was covered by sunglasses. Hearing this, he sighed, and then, under the broad daylight, managed to hold a straight, serious face when he replied: “Honey, you’re lucky that my skin is thick enough to withstand your ‘cultured’ pickup line. Did you use it on those silly boys that you tricked to bed before? I bet it worked every time.”

Fei Du retracted his not-so-serious eyes from him, and smiled silently.

The buildings for the Public Security Bureau, the Procuritorial Bureau, and the People’s Court were all at the city center of Yan-cheng, and not far from each other. Because Fei Du took a different route, they were now driving past the back gate of the Procuritorial Bureau.

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The early autumn sky was high and drizzled with thin, hazy clouds. The sun shined generously through the cool and dry air. When their police car quietly cruised past the back gate of the Procuritorial Bureau they saw a mid-aged woman standing on the side of the street. She held a half-empty bottle of water and wore a placard on her neck with posters of some smiling girls. The woman’s eyes were wandering and lacked focus. When she saw the police car, her eyes spontaneously followed. There were hints of a twilight in those eyes.

“That’s Qu Tong’s mother.” Luo Wenzhou glanced at her, and said to Fei Du, “I saw her a couple times when she came to the Bureau to complete the written declaration. She’s aged so much in a few months.”

Fei Du: “Chief Lu talked about it today.”

Luo Wenzhou: “Huh?”

Fei Du hesitated, then unintentionally – or intentionally – followed where the topic led: “Maybe I’m oversensitive, but I feel that he was probing me for something.”

Thanks to the sunglasses, Luo Wenzhou didn’t leak out any expression despite his attentive eyes: “Probing for what?”

“I don’t know. It sounds like…perhaps he thought that I would root for the victim’s family to pay someone to execute Su Luozhan and the pedafiles.” Fei Du shrugged, “I guess I somehow came across as someone with a great sense of justice?”

Luo Wenzhou did not reply. Shortly after, he adjusted his slouching, laid-back posture and sat up straight. He immediately looked much more serious.

“He also striked out some of the old cases that I requested for access.” Fei Du continued, “From what I know, those happened to be ones that were more or less closed with blemishes. Some lacked the deal-sealing key evidence; some had suspects who filed for the insanity defense…”

“Fei Du,” Luo Wenzhou asked, smiling, “Was the old man probing you, or are you probing me?”

They were approaching an empty crossing and the signal was turning from yellow to red. Fei Du slowly hit the brake pedal.

“I actually do know a little about this. Once my Shifu had too much to drink and slipped out some details.” After a short silence, Luo Wenzhou said, “If I’m not mistaken, then the ones that Chief Lu crossed out must be ones that had already been researched during the first phase of the Sketchbook project, right?”

Fei Du didn’t expect to get an answer from him so easily. He peeked at him in surprise.

“Besides the one case that used the insanity defense, the other ones were all stalling cold cases. Back then the principle investigator of the sketchbook project wanted to comb through those cases from a different angle and see if there could be a breakthrough.”

Fei Du quietly listened.

“But because of the limited technology, much evidence was not properly retained. What’s more, the psychological profiling technique was never accepted in court as stand-alone evidence. Whatever findings that came out of the project could only be used for research and can’t help put the suspects on trial anymore. The experts that were involved in phase one of the Sketchbook project had a lot of pent-up frustrations. Yet, right about then, the suspects involved in those cases got into some sort of accidents one by one.

“Accidents? What do you mean?”

“Some had random car accidents; some went missing; one committed suicide and left a note that admitted to his crime. One by one those names on the list disappeared. There was too much coincidence: if the heaven did not suddenly decide to deliver justice, then there is only one explanation left: murder. The murderer is a high-functioning expert who knows the victims better than themselves. And he is also very familiar with how the police system works. He is 100% an insider. Consequently, the sketchbook project came to an abrupt end. A secret committee was assembled to investigate it, and every person that was involved in the project was temporarily suspended and questioned.

Fei Du finally understood why Luo Wenzhou did not answer Tao Ran’s question when he asked about the “Sketchbook project” over the lunch table: those who were involved in the project were most likely the top-notch talents of the field. If they haven’t retired yet, then many must have already climbed to high-up positions.

“And then?”

“Then, the investigation committee finally zeroed in on one suspect.” Luo Wenzhou said, “I don’t know much details. But I do know that there wasn’t any solid evidence to charge him. This person was the soul of the project. Many senior officers that participated were his students.”

Fei Du asked immediately: “Who is he?”

Luo Wenzhou shook his head: “I am not sure. Yang Lao did not tell me. I tried looking into it myself, but all of his files and records were sealed. According to Shifu though, it seems that the man has already died.”

“You’re not sure.” Fei Du said in a low voice, “meaning that you did find something.”

Luo Wenzhou didn’t agree nor disagree: “I’ve already disclosed a lot. Now it’s your turn: Why did you get yourself into the YCPA? Why go through all that trouble to join the “Sketchbook project”? Don’t say you’re just curious.”

Fei Du dropped silent.

The two sat in the constricted space shoulder to shoulder. There was hardly any distance between them, yet somehow there seemed to be a cold and thick wall in between.

Fei Du’s eyes were twinkling. Luo Wenzhou thought that he heard squeakings of the gates in his heart as they slowly opened. The owner of the gates were calculating how many to open, and how many hidden contents to show, in order to exchange for what he wanted.

Not until the GPS showed that they were almost at the destination did Luo Wenzhou finally crack open Fei Du’s mouth and get another sentence out:

“You know, I had always suspected that my father was involved in my mother’s death.” Fei Du said, “Even though you guys have concluded his innocence, I still couldn’t resist this feeling. It’s like an instinct. Theoretically speaking, instincts are tied to a person’s subconscious. I really want to know why I would have such a deeply ingrained doubt in him, so I tried to recollect things from my childhood.

“I remember that our house had a basement which only my dad had access to. Even my mom wasn’t allowed to enter. It was like Bluebeard’s locked room. I plotted for almost half a year and finally got the key and the passcode. When I broke in…

Luo Wenzhou astutely sensed that there was a rugged pause in his voice.

“…I saw an open folder on his desk. It was…ahem…”Fei Du suddenly started to cough, as if he choked on the wind. He turned his face to the window, rolled the car window up, and then continued with a slightly hoarse voice: “Choked on the cold air, sorry — it held a stack of journal articles. I took a peek — I was too young and didn’t understand most of the jargons — I remember seeing something about “psychological trauma”. The author’s name was Fan Siyuan. I looked into this person later and found he was very low-key, essentially a mystery. Other than that he used to teach at the YCPA, I couldn’t find any other information about him.

Luo Wenzhou didn’t answer. He could clearly tell that Fei Du was bullshitting again — Luo had also seen many papers on his parents’ desk when he was little, but he sure didn’t remember a single punctuation from those papers…except for the rough beating that he got from his dad once when he torn his meeting minutes to make paper airplanes.

“For a businessman, why would he read papers like those in his secret study? Don’t you think it’s odd?” Fei Du drove the police car into Heng’ai Hospital’s parkinglot, “Shortly after my break-in, my dad moved things out of the basement and never used the room again. For all these years I kept looking but couldn’t find the things that he moved from the basement again. That stack of mysterious papers was my last memory.”

“I see.” Luo Wenzhou answered coldly, not showing whether he bought Fei Du’s explanation or not. He unbuttoned his seatbelt as the car came to a full stop and said: “Next time when you want to ask something from me, just ask it. I like to be frank. For the things that I can answer, I’ll answer them right away, and you don’t have to sell yourself to pay for it. If it’s something that I can’t tell you, then I would not say a word even if all of my brain cells have lost half of their chromosomes. There is really no need for all the flirts and tricks.”

Fei Du was taken aback by his reaction at first. Then he realized: “Wait, you think that this is why I asked you out?”

Luo Wenzhou paid him no attention and reached for the door. Fei Du suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

“Shixiong,” Fei Du not only wasn’t pissed off, but even chuckled in amusement, “I wanted to ask this a long time ago: are you a little afraid of me?”

Luo Wenzhou’s long eyebrow almost flew out of the frame of the glasses: “Me? Afraid of you? For what?”

“For wasting your heart, for toying with your feelings, for losing control, for an ugly ending…” Fei Du spoke, word by word, “Which one of them is correct?”

Luo Wenzhou’s face straightened. He flipped his hand off of him and said, “Don’t flatter yoursel…”

Fei Du: “Or… are you worried that I’ll make you too sore to get out of bed?”

Luo Wenzhou “…”

He truly hasn’t seen anyone so brazen and shameless in his entire life. What an eye opener.

Luo Wenzhou didn’t know what to say. So he silently flipped Fei Du out of the car.

They barely exited the parking lot when they saw the press vehicles and heavy equipment circling the main entrance of the Heng-ai hospital. A sea of people were eagerly scouting at the entrance. Suddenly, someone yelled:

“There he comes!”

The sound of camaras’ shuttering blended into one another.

“Get ready get ready!’

“Hey hold on, wait until they come closer.”

“Don’t push!’

“Oops.” Fei Du took a peek, “Zhou Huaixin didn’t tell me that his brother is discharged today.”

The wound on Zhou Huaijin’s leg wasn’t even as serious as the mouthful of river water he choked on. A simple treatment at an outpatient clinic would have been enough, but he stayed at the hospital for a full three days. It appeared that he was, after all, still a privileged, pampered child born with a silver spoon whose skin and flesh were more fragile than those of the ordinary Joes’ somehow.

Zhou Huaixin pushed out his brother’s wheelchair. Having prepared for the trouble at the front gate, he quickly ordered a group of black-clothed body guards to separate Zhou Huaijin and the others. He even took off his flary overcoat and shrouded Zhou Huaijin’s back from the camera lenses.

Zhou Huaijin smiled agreeably: “It’s already. Let them do their jobs. There is no need for the covering.”

Zhou Huaixin pushed the wheelchair out. As he walked, he slowly asked: “Brother, have you nothing else to say to me?”

Zhou Huaijin was so poised and well-mannered that even when sitting on a wheel-chair and looking a little pale, he was still eye-grabbingly charming. He looked nothing like the blood brother of Zhou Huaixin indeed. He replied: “What do you mean?”

Zhou Huaixin turned his head towards the reporters on his back. Amidst the hustle bustle, he answered softly: “Brother, no matter what it is…no matter what you did…you are always my brother.”

“Or what? What else would I be if not your brother?” Zhou Huaijin grinned after a short pause. As he spoke, he reached a hand out to Zhou Huaixin.

The latter was like a shaggy, bony dog which, after staring at the hand for a little while, bent down and offered its head to be petted. As Zhou Huaijin patted him, Zhou Huaixin’s shoulder gradually relaxed. His ghostly face showed an almost peaceful grin.

Zhou Huaijin said gently, “Come, let’s go home.”

Zhou Huaixin nodded agreeably. He moved the overcoat to cover his brother’s legs, and carefully avoided the small rocks on the road as he wheeled him out to the parking lot.

A pair of eyes was gazing at them from afar, thinking, what a warm and fuzzy image.

What harm does it do to let those nosy outsiders get a taste of the gossip? They were still the privileged upper-class brothers that would always live above the cloud. Let those spectators snap some pictures today, and tomorrow’s news will be filled with “the touching brotherly bond between the two future masters of the Zhou’s”.

They would never hear about the dirty business under the pretty skin. The public was just waiting to read the social elites’s exaggerated acting and no one really cared about the lost lives hidden between the lines.

Perhaps for some, neither their living nor their death was worthy of a headline.

But who said so? Who was it to decide?

Zhou Huaixin’s cell phone started ringing. Surprised, he picked it up: “Fei?”

“Look up, across the street.”

Following those words, Zhou saw Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou in the parking lot across.

“The police have some matters to discuss with you and your brother.” Fei Du waved at him, “Is it a good time? Shall we find somewhere private?”

“Alright, let’s…” Zhou Huaixin answered while looking around. Suddenly he found that those cameras that had been following them had all turned elsewhere: to a young woman holding a bouquet of flowers. She stayed afar and seemed too shy to come closer. Facing them, she bent down to take a bow.

“What the heck is this?” Zhou Huaixin frowned, “Fei, give me a sec. I’ll call you back later.”

A bodyguard trotted over and whispered by Zhou Huaijin’s ear: “Dir. Zhou, that girl is a relative of the truck driver that crashed Mr. Zhou Sr.’s car. She hasn’t shown her face before. We’re not sure how she heard about your schedule today…and we don’t know what she is here for.”

Before he finished reporting, the girl had already opened her mouth, stuttering: “I am the only one left in my family. My father has caused this accident, and I know I wouldn’t be able to make up to you no matter what…I…I just want to come and…and say sorry to you directly. I…”

Zhou Huaixin looked to Zhou Huaijin.

“Let her pass.” Zhou Huaijin said, “It’s not her fault. She has suffered enough.”

Zhou Huaixin wasn’t too surprised at his brother’s reaction, since he had always kept a kind and gentle image in public. He turned and instructed the bodyguards to make way. Amidst the loud protests of the reporters, the girl was let in.

Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou were still across a wide road from them. Fei Du squinted his eyes to try to get a clearer look, murmuring: “Interesting…the girl looks kind of familiar.”

“Wait…she looks like…Dong Xiaoqing?” Luo Wenzou was taken aback. Then he quickly took out his cellphone — Tao Ran had just texted him to report a leave of absence because he needed to accompany Xiao Haiyang to Dong Xiaoqing’s place: the latter said that she had something to turn in to the police. “How come? She’s supposed to…”

Suddenly, a chill creeped up Luo Wenzhou’s spine. He didn’t have time to think things through before his body reacted: He directly flipped over the fence of the parking lot.

Fei Du was surprised, but quickly followed.

At that time, Dong Xiaoqing had already gotten in front of Zhou Huaijin’s wheelchair, flowers in her hand. Her face was pale and her body was slightly shaking. She bowed prudishly at both Zhou Huaixin and Zhou Huaijin and kept saying how sorry she was.

Zhou Huaijin reached out to take the flowers: “I understand. It was an accident. Miss, it will be alright.”

Luo Wenzhou dashed towards the hospital entrance but was blocked by the sea of reporters and body guards. He yelled: “Police! Make way!”

Dong Xiaoqing’s eyes glistened with tears. She bent down and pushed the giant bouquet of lily flower in Zhou Huaijin’s arms: “I’m here to…”

Zhou Huaijin tried to stop her: “My brother is allergic to pollen…”

But before the word ‘pollen’ came out of his mouth, he noticed a cold gleam behind the bouquet. Things happened in a flash and Zhou Huaixin didn’t have the time to think at all. Instinctually, he pushed away Zhou Huaijin’s wheelchair and in the next moment he felt the coldness of a blade on his skin, followed by a sharp, piercing pain. Zhou Huaijin’s wheelchair was knocked over. His whole body was on the ground, face down. In disbelief, he struggled to turn his head and saw —

Dong Xiaoqing thrusted the blade deeply into Zhou Huaixin’s stomach and cried out hysterically: “I’m here to end your life!”

Meanwhile, Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang had just arrived at the Lan-Wan apartment complex. They weren’t able to even drive into the alley — it was blocked by fire trucks.

Xiao Haiyang looked up. He saw heavy smoke coming out of a window and battling with the Firefighters’ high pressure water hose. The sound of angry yelling and crying was everywhere…

His heart sank.

The apartment on fire looked like Dong Qian’s home!

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Words to my readers:

Hey guys! Really, words can’t explain how grateful I am to have you accompanying me through this journey thus far. I started translating Mo Du in Jan. 2018. It started out as a challenge to myself — to see if I could take on a long term project out of pure enthusiasm and love; to see how far I could keep going without much external reward. The sweetest moments along the way had been to get to translate my favorite lines and share them with you guys (my single most cherished moment is in Chapter 76, woohoo I’m almost there!)

When I started this project I was still a student with some free time at hand. Lots have happened in 2 years, and lately I have just ended an important life chapter and started a new one. I still hope to continue this project. The love for Mo Du hasn’t waned. But now with a much more packed daily schedule I will no longer be able to keep up the bi-weekly update schedule that I promised a while ago (I know…even a bi-weekly frequency is like nothing compared to other professional translators’ offer. Thank you guys again for your patience and toleration in the past). Also, I am thrilled to hear that lately some other team has picked up the project from Section IV (Chapter 90: onward), and another translator even completed the whole book already (check out the link to their work at NU).

I will still try to update at least one chapter monthly until I get to the end of the current section. After then, we’ll see. For your best reading experience though, the wait here will probably be too tedious so I would suggest completing the novel elsewhere now (while you still remember all the names and plots haha). Then, if your love for this story and the characters is too strong (like mine), I hope you would come back here once in a while to check out my version. I hope it can bring you a little bit more of Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du.

Peace.

QuantumC