Chapter 205: The Perfect Actor

2022-05-20

Xiao Liu glanced at me but didn’t answer the crucial question. He must have realized there were two main points in this case—if either of them got solved, we’d probably crack it open. One was whether there was one killer or several working together. The other was the killer’s real motive.

At that moment Xiao Liu claimed he’d already figured out the second point, and he was sure his take on the first one was right too. With that attitude, he was already awfully close to the truth. That’s why he’d just boasted in front of the whole team about getting to the bottom of it before I did. If I solved it first, all those words would come back to bite him.

Seeing Xiao Liu hold back, I knew he wanted to be the first to catch the killer. He had this unshakable belief he’d get there before the next murder. If he handed me the key piece, there was a real chance I’d pull ahead, and that was a scenario he definitely didn’t want. Friends can share fortune, but if there’s only enough for one, you’re left to say sorry to the other.

Given how things stood, I didn’t have much left to say.

Silence settled again. I glanced out at the night—pitch black, the darkness flowing like water. I spoke up: “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day. Doesn’t matter who catches the killer first, as long as we do it quickly and stop more deaths. That should be our main concern.”

It was a nice thought, but an hour after lying in bed sleep just wouldn’t come. So I decided to head out for a smoke and try to think through the case. Leaning over the railing, blowing smoke rings at the crescent moon, I let the peace of the night seep in.

It was around two in the morning.

Three murders had already happened. Judging by the killer’s pattern, we’d probably see a fourth before tonight was over. Right now I honestly hoped Xiao Liu was right and I was wrong. That way he’d catch the killer, and fewer people would have to die.

But Xiao Liu hadn’t clued me in on what exactly linked the victims together. What did they have in common?

As I quietly smoked, a door opened beside me. Gu Chen stepped out, wearing only a vest and shorts. Even with the early spring chill still lingering, he seemed completely unfazed. Stretching as he walked across to me, he looked like the cold barely registered.

I tossed him a cigarette. Gu Chen reached up with two fingers and caught it right out of the air.

I murmured, “Lu Xiaofeng, huh? That famous one-finger trick?”

Gu Chen chuckled, lit up and replied, “Yeah, watched an episode of ‘The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng’ tonight. That move really does look cool.”

I shook my head and looked him over. “Catching a cigarette with your fingers is one thing. Try catching a knife like that and you’ll lose both those fingers.”

Gu Chen exhaled smoke, then started doing one-handed push-ups on the railing. “That’s why I once dreamed of being a movie actor. On screen those martial arts masters are always flying over walls, fighting for justice. It’s the kind of glory anyone dreams of.”

I studied Gu Chen’s face and said with a sigh, “So you gave up because of your looks, huh? Me, I used to want to be a hero too. But ended up in the wrong major, so I let the dream go…”

Gu Chen laughed. “Actually, someone really did try to recruit me for a lead movie role once. I turned it down. Real-life justice beats acting it out. It’s less glamorous than TV, sure, but it’s more real. When you help actual people, the idea of a hero starts feeling less like a distant fantasy.”

Suddenly I remembered something Team Leader Shao once asked me: “Why did you want this job?”

Now I tossed that question to Gu Chen.

He took a drag on his cigarette, was silent for a while, then said, “I wanted to be a hero since I was little. I wanted people to look up to me, to fight bad guys, to be a big hero like Guo Jing. I still remember that saying: ‘The true hero fights for his country and people.'”

“But I came to realize there aren’t any heroes like that left in this era.” Gu Chen scratched his head, clearly thinking of his childhood. “My parents were farmers. Once, my mom got sick and needed to see a top doctor in the city. My dad clung tight to 10,000 yuan—he was sure if he didn’t let go no one could possibly take it off him.”

I nodded—this was the first time I’d heard Gu Chen talk about his childhood.

He went on, “Back then, 10,000 yuan was a huge sum. My parents had scraped and saved for years. Thieves couldn’t get it—robbers, though, weren’t so picky. The moment they got off the train, my folks got surrounded by a group with knives. ‘Your money or your lives.'”

“So what did your parents do?” I couldn’t help asking.

Gu Chen said, “That money was for the hospital. If we lost it, there’d be no treatment. If you give up the money to survive, it’s just as deadly. My dad actually got down on his knees, begging them, telling them it was for hospital fees, but it was useless. No one cared what the money was for. They beat him up anyway and still took the cash.”

“My father was in terrible shape but he kept clutching a robber’s leg, refusing to let go, determined to hold on till the end. They stabbed his arm with a knife, but still he wouldn’t release his grip.”

“Just as things were about to go bad, someone appeared. Like a real hero, he chased the robbers down, brought the money back and made sure my parents got to the hospital. My folks still talk about that day. Maybe to that guy it was nothing, barely worth remembering—but to two honest, beaten-down farmers in the city, it changed everything.”

Gu Chen stubbed his cigarette out on the railing, then looked at me, suddenly serious. “That’s why I’ve worked so hard. You never know—a single act can change a whole family’s fate.”

“People always say this job’s dangerous and thankless. They say we’re misunderstood, insulted, always on the edge.” Gu Chen’s voice turned forceful, brimming with conviction. “But we’re the ones who stand guard.”

Gu Chen spoke with unwavering resolve: “There’s good and evil in everyone. There are kind souls, and there are those who are violent, crazy. Just like the world has morning and night, light and darkness. And us—we’ve got one foot in the light, one in shadow, holding the darkness back with our own bodies. I can’t promise that no one will ever face darkness in their life. But in the end, they’ll always know people like us are on duty, always pushing back the night where no one else can see.”

Every single word Gu Chen spoke stirred something inside me, filling me with a silent pride at standing shoulder to shoulder with him. But like he said—this line of work means staring into too much darkness, seeing the worst and most complicated sides of people. Who knows, in the end, if we’ll ever really be able to turn our backs to the darkness and face the light.

That night, listening to Gu Chen lay his heart bare, I realized some people never waver from what they believe.

Maybe sensing he’d gotten too serious, Gu Chen clapped me on the shoulder. “What about you?” he asked.

I fell quiet. Even now, I didn’t really know how to answer. I’ve always been restless, never able to show the steely resolve Team Leader Shao hoped I would.

It’s a question I keep asking myself.

But until now, I still can’t answer it.

“Honestly? I’d rather be an actor,” I laughed, dodging the question. “The kind who can play any part.”

Gu Chen didn’t seem surprised by my evasive answer. He just said, “Acting’s no picnic. You need to truly become the character—figure out how they feel, what they’ve been through. I’ve heard some actors shut themselves away for days to get into character, living like they’re the person in the movie. When the job’s done, some even struggle to remember who they really are.”

Right then, something dawned on me. A flash of inspiration hit—an angle I’d been missing all along, something we’d all overlooked.

“Gu Chen.” I looked him in the eye, deadly serious. “Do you think there are people in this world who really believe they’re someone else—so much that they can’t even break out of it?”

Gu Chen gave me a puzzled look but replied, “Sure, I just said—it happens.”

“The perfect actor is someone who actually thinks they’re another person—so much so, even they can’t spot the difference. If they can’t tell, nobody else stands a chance.” I met Gu Chen’s eyes. “Xiao Liu’s whole line of investigation is wrong. There are a lot of killers here—but only one person is actually doing it all!”