Chapter 184: Connections

2022-05-20

The Head Nurse has never struck me as someone who’s afraid of anything. Back when I was a patient here, I never once heard him utter the word ‘fear.’ So seeing him admit he’s afraid of a frail old man, his hair white at the temples, feels almost comical.

I studied the old man closely. At first glance, he’s just an ordinary, aging gentleman—wrinkled face, gold-rimmed reading glasses perched on his nose, flipping through a book while moistening his finger with saliva. As he reads, he jots down notes in a small notebook with a fountain pen. It’s the classic kind, rarely seen these days.

His clothes are simple and plain, the kind retirees might wear. Nearby, a ceramic tea cup steams, and a thermos sits on the table near the wall. Behind him, his bed is perfectly made, not a sheet out of place. The whole area looks spotless.

There’s even a window open behind him, though the gap is narrow and partially blocked by something—still, it lets him peer out at the world whenever he wants.

He looks so frail, you’d think a strong wind could knock him over, let alone imagine him killing anybody.

Yet if the Head Nurse says this man is also a psychiatric patient, then it must be true. After all, who would volunteer to monitor a harmless old man just reading his books? That would be as dull as dishwater. Still, the Head Nurse fears him—and I can’t help but wonder why.

I wanted to talk to him. That’s just the way people are—curiosity always gets the better of us.

If curiosity could be stifled, humanity would never have reached the stars or explored the ocean depths. It’s curiosity that drives us to discover new creatures each year, to become what we are today.

So I couldn’t help wondering what made this old man so special. He sits quietly in his corner, reading and sipping tea—just like any retired grandpa.

Unable to resist my curiosity, I finally asked, “Head Nurse, just how did this old man commit murder?”

“He doesn’t kill people.” The Head Nurse gave me a look I couldn’t quite read, his voice strange.

“He doesn’t?” I frowned, not getting it. “Then how did he end up here if he’s never hurt anyone?”

Gu Chen kept his eyes glued to the surveillance screen for a while, then said, “If he’s the scariest one here, why give him books, a ceramic cup, even a metal pen? Any of those could turn deadly if he wanted to hurt himself or others.”

The Head Nurse glanced at us, hesitated, then explained, “He doesn’t kill, but almost every person who meets him ends up mentally unstable. Some leave here driven mad, others become violent killers. You tell me—isn’t that terrifying? He never wields the weapon himself, but the tragedies that follow are countless. That’s why we have a rule—no one can say more than three sentences to him. If you ignore him, he’ll ignore you.”

“Hypnosis?” Guan Zengbin touched her face, thinking aloud. “I remember hearing Forensic Expert Yang Xiaojun give a lecture about someone using hypnosis to control victims in a case, making people lose all sense of reason.”

Team Leader Shao let out a deep sigh. “The people who lost their minds in Juajuan’s story were probably her team. But their kind of hypnosis needed a specific drug. This old man doesn’t have anything like that. Still, I remember she said there are some who can hypnotize with nothing but words. You wouldn’t even realize it was happening.”

“And if you never hear the trigger word—” Team Leader Shao paused, face darkening as if an old wound had opened. After a long silence, he continued, “If you never hear the trigger, you might spend your whole life under hypnosis and never know. Or maybe nothing ever happens—until one day, you hear that single word and fall right in.”

He stopped talking.

I was about to press him for more, but Guan Zengbin tugged my arm to stop me.

The Head Nurse broke the silence. “So, what do you really want to know? Just ask, but don’t cause any problems. I won’t go up there, but if something does go down, there are emergency buttons outside every hallway. Security will get the alarm and come help.”

We all nodded. Team Leader Shao said, “Wu Meng, you three go in. I’ll keep an eye on the monitors here. Safety first.”

Part of why I came to the Psychiatric Hospital was to study these patients’ mental states and get inside the killer’s mind. But I also wanted to figure out what those English letters stood for. Gu Chen’s earlier words made me think—maybe they knew more than I imagined.

The three of us headed down the corridor. Gu Chen asked, “Who’s Yang Xiaojun? Why is everyone acting so cagey?”

Guan Zengbin glanced back to where Team Leader Shao stood at a distance before whispering, “Yang Xiaojun is Team Leader Shao’s girlfriend and a famous forensic expert. Ten years ago, when the team was first formed, Team Leader Shao, Yan Junde, Sister Mary, and Xiaojun solved a string of tough cases together.”

Her face suddenly clouded with sadness. “About seven years ago, Yang Xiaojun was shot on a mission and fell into a coma. After that, the team disbanded for a while. The operation itself was a huge success—except one suspect got away. That was Zhao Mingkun.”

At the name Zhao Mingkun, my expression shifted and my heart skipped a beat. I’d only ever heard bits and pieces about her—just rumors, never the whole story. All I really knew was that Zhao Mingkun was adopted by Shi Huacheng and helped him commit more than a few crimes. Team Leader Shao’s new Special Investigation Team was really formed just to finally catch this fugitive.

But hearing Guan Zengbin mention those earlier days made me even more curious.

And she kept going. “Xiaojun shielded Team Leader Shao that day. It was Shi Huacheng who pulled the trigger, and he’s still behind bars.”

“Behind bars?” Gu Chen didn’t know Shi Huacheng or Team Leader Shao and had no ties to them. He muttered, “So what brought him to this point? Deserves what he got.”

Guan Zengbin just shook her head. “There are reasons for everything. Shi Huacheng is worth more alive than dead—there were things unsolved, clues left dangling. It was way more complicated than it appeared. Chances are, Zhao Mingkun wasn’t the only one at large.”

I suddenly felt an urge to meet Shi Huacheng myself. I’d heard Team Leader Shao say he only ended up on this path for the sake of saving his youngest daughter. But what happened to her? Was she saved in the end?

“Seven years—that’s how long it’s been.” Guan Zengbin walked a few steps ahead, voice soft. “Xiaojun is still unconscious. And Team Leader Shao, after all these years, can’t let go. That’s why he’s so determined to catch Zhao Mingkun—to put those old ghosts to rest.”

I suddenly realized something was off and turned to Guan Zengbin. “Wait a sec. If Xiaojun’s been in a coma for seven years, and you’re only nineteen now, that means you were what—twelve back then? How could you have been at that report on hypnosis?”

Gu Chen, catching on, raised the same question.

Guan Zengbin stopped in her tracks.

When she turned to face us, her cheeks glistened with tears. She said, “You’re right. My grandmother was Yang Xiaojun’s mom’s sister. So by family, I should call Xiaojun my aunt, and Team Leader Shao is really my uncle.”

She went on. “I was just a kid then, always tagging along with my aunt. That day, I sat through her lecture on hypnosis. From that moment on, I was determined to become a top forensic scientist—help the dead find justice and bring the truth to light. That’s why, seven years later, I joined the Special Investigation Team without hesitation. No matter what, I’m going to catch Zhao Mingkun and finally give my aunt the closure she deserves.”

I’d never seen Guan Zengbin cry like that—her face unguarded, tears falling in silence. Yang Xiaojun clearly played a huge part in her life. Guan Zengbin would never back down from this. And me? I once let Zhao Mingkun go with my own hands. I can’t imagine what it would feel like for kind, reliable Guan Zengbin to finally face her.

She endured, for the sake of the plan—yet Zhao Mingkun still escaped.

It hit me then—everyone wears a mask. However someone presents themselves on the outside, there are sides to them you’ll never see—sides buried deep. Maybe it’s because we’ve grown closer, maybe it’s seeing Team Leader Shao’s heartache, but today, she shared her secret with us. That kind of trust means everything.

But what about me? If another chance comes, will I stand with Guan Zengbin, or let Zhao Mingkun, the one person in the world who truly understands me, go free again?