Chapter 154: The Heroic Spirit of Wang An

2022-05-20

Du Zigui had also disappeared.

Being confronted about this on the very first day of the new year—according to the boss—was about as unlucky as it gets. Still, no matter how unwelcome we were, we couldn’t just walk away. When we asked about Du Zigui, the boss at Shitong Auto Repair told us he’d actually quit over a month and a half ago.

The boss described Du Zigui as a simple, hardworking young man who was diligent at his job and never shied away from tough work. Yet, for reasons unknown to the boss, three young men came looking for Du Zigui about a month ago. After that, Du Zigui handed in his resignation.

The boss tried several times to convince him to stay, but Du Zigui seemed set on leaving. Left with no other choice, the boss finally let him go.

“Three young men?” Guan Zengbin asked, pulling out a photo to show the boss.

The boss studied the photo seriously and nodded. “That’s them. Those are the three.”

“Do you know where they went?” I asked.

“No idea,” the boss answered.

Gu Chen started the car as he spoke. “That was a month and a half ago—right after those three were let out. And as soon as they were out, they came looking for Du Zigui. I bet they were itching to stir up more trouble for Hao Ren’s family. People like that are just parasites, makes my blood boil.”

I tapped my watch thoughtfully. “If that’s the case, then I’m afraid Zhao Xiaoli and Wang An might also be harassed by those three. But where could they have gone? Hao Ren’s missing, Du Zigui’s vanished too, and what about Zhao Xiaoli and Wang An? Have they disappeared as well?”

Everyone went quiet for a moment.

I broke the silence. “Let’s go look for Wang An. Which elementary school does he go to? We should get in touch with his homeroom teacher.”

I have to admit, the info Mary gathered for us was comprehensive—everything you could want to know about Wang An was there. When we reached out to the school principal, she gave us a phone number. It belonged to Wang An’s homeroom teacher, an experienced teacher in her fifties.

When we brought up Wang An, the teacher—Ms. Zhao—answered frankly: Wang An was currently at home. On the call, she told us that about a month ago, Hao Ren had left her three thousand yuan and asked for her help in looking after Wang An.

Ms. Zhao was confused and asked Hao Ren why, with the new year coming up in a month, he was leaving. Hao Ren didn’t answer—he just shook his head. She treated Hao Ren like a little brother, since he was ten years younger than her, and she knew it hadn’t been easy for him to take care of several kids by himself. In the end, she agreed to help.

From what it sounded like, when Wang An was sent here a month ago, even if Hao Ren hadn’t told him anything, Wang An probably understood more than he let on.

When we arrived at the apartment complex, we found the driveway overrun by a group of kids.

Each child held a stick of incense and had bulging pockets stuffed with firecrackers. They lit the firecrackers, tossing them and shrieking with laughter. In the middle of these kids was a young man who stood out—just as delighted as the kids, he was joining in tossing firecrackers.

The young man wore overalls and a black, slightly shabby sweater with little else underneath. It was the depths of winter, but with his plump build, he didn’t seem cold. His expressions and movements hinted something was off mentally.

Right then, a mischievous kid tossed a firecracker at the young man. It burst against him with a loud pop, burning a small hole in his sweater for a flash. The other kids, amused by this discovery, all followed suit.

They lit more firecrackers, hurling them at the young man—snap crackle pop filling the air.

The sight was infuriating. We hopped out of the car, ready to put a stop to it.

The young man tried dodging left and right, but he couldn’t avoid all those firecrackers. In a panic, he plopped down on the ground and started bawling—wailing like a little child.

One of the kids jeered, “Big dummy’s crying again! Big dummy’s crying again!”

Shamed like that, the young man sobbed even harder, while the other kids just burst out laughing.

Just then, another kid came running from behind the building, a stick in his hand, shouting as he ran up, “You kids better stop! You hear me? If you don’t, I’ll make you sorry! Stand still!”

Seeing this boy sprint over, the rest scattered, still taunting as they ran: “Orphan boy! Big dummy!”

As they rushed past our car and disappeared down the road, Gu Chen looked like he wanted to lecture those grade schoolers, but hearing the last things they said, he just froze. Words like that, coming from children of all people, were chilling—at an age that should be innocent, their words were nasty and venomous.

We went over to the young man, while the boy who’d defended him tossed his stick aside and went to help him up.

He patted the young man’s head and soothed him gently. “Those are bad kids. I keep telling you not to play with them, they always bully you. Got it?”

Hearing that, the young man rubbed his eyes and, on the verge of tears, said, “You never play with me. I don’t want to play alone. If you won’t, I’ll just go play with them. But they all say I’m dumb and keep bullying me. Do you think I’m really that stupid?”

The boy frowned and answered earnestly, “Guo Feng, you’re not stupid. You just haven’t found your own path yet, that’s all. You’re not dumb, remember that.”

“But they all say I’m dumb,” Guo Feng said, still doubtful.

The boy seemed a bit annoyed, but kept his patience. “Pinky promise, you’re not dumb. Tell you what, I’ll get you some candy later, okay?”

The mention of candy immediately perked Guo Feng up. “Great! I want candy!”

With that, Guo Feng got to his feet and took the boy’s hand, ready to leave.

As I watched, I noticed the boy’s face was mottled with dark bruises—probably beaten by someone.

Guan Zengbin had already walked over and smiled at the two. “You were really brave just now, little guy. What’s your name?”

The boy didn’t answer, but Guo Feng piped up first. “This lady’s really pretty!”

“Thank you.” Guan Zengbin replied with graceful poise.

But the boy eyed us warily, suspicion all over his face. Sensing his concern, Guan Zengbin quickly added, “Hey, we’re not bad people. Do you know a boy named Wang An…?”

The boy frowned and shot back, “Why are you looking for Wang An?”

Guan Zengbin couldn’t exactly lay out the whole case to a kid, so she just said, “We just need to talk to him, that’s all. You two go play for now. If anyone bullies you again, tell this big brother and he’ll handle it.” She pointed to Gu Chen.

I looked at the boy and asked, “Are you Wang An? I want to ask about your father.”

“Wang An?” Guan Zengbin repeated, looking at the boy.

I looked at Wang An and said calmly, “People who write a lot often have calluses on their middle fingers. These days, with so much schoolwork, it’s not surprising to see that on a kid. But someone with calluses in their palms—especially a grade-schooler—is another matter. If you check Gu Chen’s hands, you’ll see his are even tougher. It means you’ve trained in martial arts for years. Your dad Hao Ren started boxing as a kid, I bet he’s been training you too. Don’t worry, we’re not bad people.”

Wang An looked at me, obvious surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected me to guess who he was just by looking at his hands.

“That kind of callus takes years to develop,” I said to Wang An. “You can’t fake it. Your dad, Hao Ren, learned martial arts as a kid—I bet he’s taught you too. Trust me, we’re not here to hurt you.”

Wang An nodded, now much less wary.

I went on, “I already called your teacher, Ms. Zhao. There are some things that might not be suitable to share with you, but right now you’re the only one we can find. Do you know where your sister, Zhao Xiaoli, is?”

Wang An looked downhearted. “I don’t know. A month ago… Look, Guo Feng is actually Ms. Zhao’s son. Come on, let’s go home and talk there.”

We nodded and followed behind Wang An.

He spoke as we walked. “My dad left me here a month ago, said he’d be back to pick me up for the New Year, but we never heard from him again. Whenever we call, no one answers. Yesterday I tried and his phone was off. Now that you’ve all come, something must have happened.”

He stopped and turned to us, his eyes serious. “Uncle, what happened to my dad?”

I sighed, meeting Wang An’s steady gaze. “I was hoping you could tell me. I won’t hide anything from you—after looking for your dad, we went after your eldest brother, Du Zigui, but he’s missing too.”

Wang An nodded. “He disappeared before I was even sent here. Dad mentioned it a few times. My sister, Zhao Xiaoli, and Fang Xiaoqi—they’re missing too. Feels like I’ve been abandoned all over again.”

Looking at Wang An, I spoke gently. “Your sister, Fang Xiaoqi… she took her own life.”

“My sister… killed herself…”