Chapter 153: Vanished Together

2022-05-20

When we heard the boss’s words, the three of us exchanged a look. We’d seen it with our own eyes yesterday—Hao Ren’s place had been burned to ashes. But today, here in the Xianyuan Internet Café, we’d suddenly landed a useful lead. The boss mentioned three people who’d once threatened to tear down Hao Ren’s house. Could those three be behind all this?

That thought spurred me to speak up: “WIFI, help me out. I need to handle something.”

I sent Mary a message, asking her to send me info on a few local thieves.

While I waited, I let my gaze wander around the internet café.

It was New Year’s Day, hardly the time you’d expect the boss to be working, but here he was with the shop open as usual. Not many people were online, just a few scattered about. Why spend New Year’s morning at an internet café instead of at home with family? I couldn’t begin to guess.

Soon enough, Mary sent over profiles for three guys. They all looked to be in their early twenties, but had started running scams and thefts while barely out of their teens.

The cockiest of the lot went by Zhang Bin—twenty-two, unemployed, basically a drifter. The other two acted as his muscle, named Zheng Shuai and Cheng Yimin, twenty and eighteen, also jobless.

None of them were locals, but they always seemed to be hanging around town. With no roots here, their attitude only got wilder. Zhang Bin carried a switchblade wherever he went. For the types desperate enough to resist, that knife became a deadly threat.

But years of living on the edge, Zhang Bin had never met anyone who wasn’t afraid to die—until recently. Usually, one swipe of the blade had folks running, dropping everything. But there was a first for everything; this time he ran into someone fearless, and for the first time, he actually stabbed with it.

But Zhang Bin ended up flat on the floor, his knife confiscated by us.

There wasn’t any sign these three had a fixed address; they’d drift from district to district. Most victims didn’t report them either, knowing the odds of getting anything back were slim to none.

Were these three really capable of something as drastic as torching someone’s house just because they’d been locked up for fifteen days? And where was Hao Ren now? Was Fang Xiaoqi’s suicide connected to them somehow?

The files showed Cheng Yimin used to work construction before falling in with Zhang Bin and Zheng Shuai. They’d all lived in cheap rentals out on the west edge of town, making that area a regular hangout. Maybe we’d find a clue there.

“Do you really think they’d go as far as burning down someone’s whole house over this?” Guan Zengbin said as he gazed out the car window, watching the streets slide past. “It’s like if someone steps on your foot, so you chop their arm off. Isn’t that a little harsh?”

Even after two months, I could still picture Zhang Bin’s twisted expression and hear his threats. For a man like him, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. He’d said he only fended for himself—maybe he wouldn’t think twice about torching a place for revenge.

Maybe it started as a knee-jerk act of retribution, but cheap wooden homes burn fast—maybe they just hadn’t expected things to escalate. Or maybe they wanted to wipe the slate clean on purpose.

Gu Chen drove on, picking up where Guan Zengbin left off: “Why not? People like that—trouble’s in their bones.”

Guan Zengbin frowned, turning to me. “So are Fang Xiaoqi’s suicide and the house fire connected? Think it’s the same group?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. After we got back, I compared Fang Xiaoqi’s suicide note with her usual essays. Everyone’s got their own habits—wording, layout, even how they move the pen. It all matches; she did write the note herself.”

I paused, meeting Guan Zengbin’s eyes. “From what she wrote, it sounds like someone she knew pushed her over the edge. These three thieves weren’t her friends. But let’s stick to tracing the people and their stuff for now.”

We drove to the row of cheap rentals.

I realized these rentals were nothing like what I’d seen in Dongxing City—just one shipping container stacked on another, mess everywhere, trash and dog crap all over the roads. We had to ask around again and again before we found someone who knew the three.

We didn’t reveal who we really were, just claimed to be friends of Zhang Bin’s. The guy bought it and led us straight over.

Turned out the trio really did crash here most days. The rent was only three hundred a month—absolutely dirt cheap. On the way, I noticed plenty of other young men, all thin, all looking half-starved and worn out. Something about this place just felt off.

Soon, we were staring at the door to Zhang Bin’s room.

I gave the door a push and found it unlocked.

As soon as I cracked it open, a wave of musty air hit me. Inside, it was bone-chillingly cold, no heating at all. Two shipping containers fenced off the space, with three beds side by side, thick blankets piled high. In the back, an old, battered TV.

Empty bottles and takeout boxes littered the floor—hardly a spot to put your foot down. The leftovers reeked of rot. Beside a bed, there was a spittoon with cigarette butts floating in some nasty, nameless liquid. The guys always looked nice and clean outside, but come home and you saw the truth.

Just goes to show, you can’t judge by appearances.

I reached out and touched the blankets—they were completely cold. That meant those three hadn’t been back in a while. But it was barely eight in the morning. Would those layabouts really be up this early? Judging by the mess, laziness was more their style.

If you asked me, I’d never believe these guys got up before seven. So what made them leave so early today?

Gu Chen seemed about to say something, but I stopped him with a raised hand.

I turned to our guide. “Zhang Bin told me to come see him. Where’s he gone?”

The guy shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Do they leave this early every day?” I asked.

The guy just burst out laughing. “You can tell by looking at their place—these three never get up before noon. They don’t even bother taking out the trash. No way they’re up so early. No idea where they went, but since you know they live here, I won’t butt in. Make yourselves at home, who knows when they’ll roll back.”

“They don’t even lock the door? Aren’t they afraid their stuff’ll get swiped?” Gu Chen muttered.

The guy laughed. “Nothing here worth stealing except that miserable old TV. Even that one’s only worth maybe fifty bucks.”

He bantered as he walked away.

Only then did Gu Chen finally ask, “Do you think those three saw the place burned to the ground and decided to skip town?”

“It’s not impossible,” I answered, looking around at everyone. “But did any of you notice something odd on our way in?”

“Odd?” Gu Chen shook his head.

Guan Zengbin glanced outside at the crates. “If Mary hadn’t sent us the intel, I never would’ve believed there were rentals like this in Yumu City. And all those rail-thin guys we saw—did you notice how weak they looked, all stumbling around?”

I snapped my fingers, meeting Guan Zengbin’s gaze. “Exactly. We’re on the same page.”

“We need someone staking this place out,” I said. “If any of those three show, someone should let us know right away.”

“I’ll call Team Leader Shao right now,” Gu Chen said. “He can send a team.”

“So—what’s the next step?” Guan Zengbin asked.

I fell silent, then said, “Hao Ren’s still missing. Fang Xiaoqi is gone too. But Du Zigui and Wang An should still be in Yumu City. Let’s find Du Zigui first—he’s older and can help us out. Wang An, though… that kid’s only eight.”

As I spoke, worry for the little guy gnawed at me. If Hao Ren was gone, who’d take care of Wang An?

Guan Zengbin scrolled through the files. “Du Zigui’s working at Shitong Auto Repair, about an hour from here.”

A few moments later, Gu Chen hung up his call.

I took one last look around the shabby little room, then turned and left.

So where had those three wandered off to this time?