Chapter 169: Hao Ren Was Still the Villain

2022-05-20

I caught the unspoken meaning in Team Leader Shao’s words—his last-minute change of tone told me he was also starting to suspect Hao Ren. The timing of Hao Ren’s disappearance and sudden return was just too suspicious. Even if he’d really gone to Dongxing City to work, he should’ve at least called home. But for nearly two months, Hao Ren had dropped off the map completely.

It felt like he’d been purposefully hiding, waiting for things to spiral out of control—and when they finally did, his reappearance only made everything explode. Think about it. A so-called hero, driven by righteousness, ends up with his family ruined just because he tried to do the right thing. It’s both heartbreaking and infuriating.

But right now, Hao Ren had practically become the very symbol of justice.

After hanging up, I sat in the car, lost in thought.

I glanced over at Guan Zengbin and Gu Chen and said, “Hao Ren’s build and height are about the same as Zhang Bin’s.”

Gu Chen nodded. “Yeah, but even though Hao Ren’s in his forties, he’s got more muscle than Zhang Bin. Did you see all the thick calluses on his hands? I bet he wouldn’t even feel it if you burned him.”

“Is it possible,” a thought that had been brewing in my mind resurfaced, “that Hao Ren was behind it all? The one who burned his own house, rented that place on the outskirts, took the photo used at the press conference, made those posts in Dongxing City, and even hired the internet trolls to stir up trouble—could all of it have been him?”

It seemed highly likely. I looked at them seriously. “Remember how every witness, almost without exception, mentioned the suspect’s injured left arm? In a lot of cases, the suspect pointed it out himself. That person wasn’t Zhang Bin—it was Hao Ren.”

Both of them frowned, deep in thought.

I kept going. “Think about it—would Zhang Bin really be dumb enough to go around telling everyone his left arm was hurt? The only reason for that would be because he wanted us to fixate on a specific identifying mark, something easy to remember. That way, we’d naturally assume it was Zhang Bin. But in reality, it was Hao Ren all along.”

“And that was why,” I said firmly, “Hao Ren disappeared for those two months—to set all this up.”

Gu Chen shook his head, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other at his mouth. “Their height and build might be similar, but there’s a twenty-year age gap between them.”

Suddenly, I remembered something that had always nagged at me. I slapped my thigh. “It can only be him. That person was definitely Hao Ren. He wore a hat and mask, so all anyone saw were his eyes. Who could tell who he was just from that?”

“Remember that room Zhao Xiaoli took us to—the one where she was being held?” I asked.

“Yeah, I remember,” Guan Zengbin tilted her head. “Why? Is something off about it?”

I nodded. “Exactly. We went to three different places where three people lived. First, a cheap shipping container they rented, then the room where Zhao Xiaoli was held, and finally, the Changshun Day Rental. There was a clear pattern the first and third times, but not the second.”

The two of them thought for a moment. Then Guan Zengbin said, “The cleanliness.”

I snapped my fingers. “That’s it! The first and third times, we could confirm those three were living together. If Zhang Bin was as tidy as he claimed, there’s no way everyone else would just leave trash everywhere. Those places were filthy, so Zhang Bin clearly wasn’t big on cleanliness.”

As I recalled the details, I said, “But that particular room was spotless. Well, as spotless as it could be, despite the fingerprints we found. There’s an old saying: If you stay in a fish market long enough, you stop noticing the stink. If you spend too long in a room full of orchids, you don’t notice the fragrance anymore. The cleaner the place, the more you start hunting for dirt. But the rooms Zhang Bin used were so dirty you just wanted to find a clean spot for your feet.”

“So that means Zhang Bin didn’t rent that place at all?” Gu Chen asked.

I nodded, holding up two fingers. “That’s the first point. The second is that Zhao Xiaoli was supposed to be staying there. I remember when Guan Zengbin checked her out, she didn’t find a single issue. At the time, she seemed puzzled. Looking back now, the truth was Zhao Xiaoli actually did live there.”

Guan Zengbin couldn’t quite believe me. “But if that’s true, what was the point of doing all that?”

I paused, letting all the threads in my head come together into one chain of logic.

While thinking it over, I finally voiced my theory about the whole case. “I think I know what really happened. Now we just need to check one thing to see if it was Zhang Bin after all.”

“What do we need to check?” Guan Zengbin asked.

I said, “The voice. Even if the looks could fool people, Zhang Bin and Hao Ren sound nothing alike. If we find the rental agent and that old man from the winter swimming team, we can play them both voices—they’ll know instantly who’s who.”

“Even if it turns out to be Hao Ren,” Gu Chen said, clearly worried, “that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the killer. Sure, those kids were all his foster children, but after two decades together, would Hao Ren really go that far? What possible reason would he have? Why do this at all?”

I shook my head at Gu Chen. “I’m not saying Hao Ren’s the killer. He said it himself at the press conference—you don’t have to destroy someone physically to ruin them. There are a lot of ways to break a person.”

Gu Chen shook his head, unconvinced. “You’re making this sound way too mysterious now.”

“Let’s go to the rental agency,” I said.

We spent the next few hours tracking down the real estate agent and the leader of the winter swimming team. When we played both Zhang Bin’s and Hao Ren’s voices for them, they both immediately picked out the same one—Hao Ren’s.

So, the things we all believed Zhang Bin had done weren’t his at all—they were committed by Hao Ren, using Zhang Bin’s identity. Everyone doubted Zhang Bin, but the truth is he hadn’t done those things. And if Zhang Bin was telling the truth, what exactly had Hao Ren done?

According to the timeline, it probably went like this: Hao Ren handed the three over to us, they got released from detention, then Zhang Bin’s group caused Hao Ren to lose his job. Wang An attacked Zhang Bin’s group, and Hao Ren brought Wang An to Ms. Zhao’s home.

After that, Hao Ren started plotting his revenge.

Hao Ren set his own house on fire—Zhang Bin even said as much. Hao Ren and his daughter staged an elaborate setup so Zhao Xiaoli could testify against Zhang Bin. Then, Hao Ren and his son Du Zigui engineered a viral video that made the whole city of Yumu aware of the case.

We’ll never really know if the things Zhang Bin said at that dinner were out of malice or just drunken talk. It’s impossible to see beyond the surface. All we can do is analyze what we see, not what’s hidden inside.

We know that whether Zhang Bin meant it or not, Du Zigui was an adult with his own judgment, responsible for his own actions. Still, we can’t forget that Fang Xiaoqi took her own life because of all this.

From Hao Ren’s point of view, it’s somewhat understandable—his own son and daughter were destroyed. No wonder he was haunted by grief and rage, wanting nothing more than to tear Zhang Bin to pieces. Instead of lashing out directly like his son Wang An, Hao Ren chose a method that would ruin Zhang Bin’s entire life.

As a father, maybe that was his way of giving the only eulogy he could for his children.

Just then, Mary called. She didn’t waste any time: “We found the mastermind behind the whole thing. I tracked down the account that posted the video, and it’s linked to a cell number—Du Zigui’s.”

“So Du Zigui orchestrated all of this?” I asked.

Mary nodded. “That’s right. We found a detailed plan he sent someone through that social media account, laying out each step. He referred to this person as ‘Dad’, and the IP address is still showing up in Dongxing City.”

“His nickname’s ‘Boxer’,” Mary added, “and with the verified information on the account, it’s clear—this ‘Boxer’ is Hao Ren.”

With that, all the pieces fell into place. And finally, my last doubt was put to rest. Hao Ren was a rough guy—he’d worked as a security guard in internet cafes but never learned anything advanced about computers or social media. Sure, he might’ve known how to chat online and watch videos, but orchestrate a viral event? Not a chance.

I thought back to the grooves under Du Zigui’s body—those grooves had kept his corpse from floating away. If it hadn’t been for Gu Chen setting off a blast of decomposing gas by accident, none of us would’ve even noticed. We’d have never known the truth.

“Let’s go.” I looked at Guan Zengbin. “Did you record those conversations with the two of them?”

Guan Zengbin nodded. “Yeah, got it all on tape.”

“Then let’s head back,” I said. “Looks like it’s time to bring Hao Ren in for a real interrogation.”