Chapter 222: The Subtle Art of Reverse Psychology

2022-05-20

After hanging up the phone, we made our way to the community center Wu Xiufen never finished building years ago. We parked the car, but left the headlights on. In their beam a wall appeared before us, overgrown with weeds nearly as tall as me. Clearly, nobody had set foot here in a long time.

The Village Chief eyed the lone wall of the community center and said, “This is the place, but I don’t get why we’re here. The killer wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide the girl somewhere so exposed—you’d freeze in winter and swelter in summer.”

The wall itself barely stood a meter and a half high, stretching maybe ten meters in length, with one end still showing raw red bricks, uneven and jagged. I braced my hands and climbed up. Standing atop the short wall, I looked around. The community center sat at the village’s northwest corner—straight up from here was the hillside.

From this spot, I could see flashlight beams flickering in the trees up the mountain, darting like fireflies between the trunks. I glanced down and spotted, hidden among the weeds, the faint outline of a path paved with red bricks. The path, about two meters wide, wound off into the distance.

I jumped down from the lone finished wall and started hacking my way along the old brick path, shoving through shoulder-high weeds. The bricks were almost completely covered by grass poking up from their gaps. Without the car headlights, I’d probably never have noticed the road at all.

This path stretched all the way down to the foot of the mountain. Right where the slope began, the brick path vanished without a trace.

Gu Chen swung his stun baton through the thick grass, glancing around as he moved, the flashlight’s beam bouncing around like a mischievous kitten. He stared at the spot where the path disappeared and said, “I’ve never seen a road built inside a house before. If they’d finished building all the walls around here, that brick road would’ve been entirely indoors, wouldn’t it?”

His words got me thinking. I closed my eyes and let the scattered clues in my mind slowly fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The thread of the case was coming into focus, but not fast enough for my liking.

“Building the community center was just a front.” I glanced at Gu Chen wandering nearby, then turned to the Village Chief. “Wu Xiufen never intended to build any community center. From the start, she planned to cause trouble halfway through construction.”

The Village Chief scratched his head. “But that doesn’t add up. If Wu Xiufen didn’t want to give us a community center, then why go to so much trouble? She paid everyone in full, too. Is she just burning through cash? She even hired villagers to help—fifty a day at first, then switched to twenty, and when the project fell apart, she stopped paying altogether.”

I shook my head. “Xingdong Village is so small, no one could build something this big without attracting attention. Have you ever heard an old story about this?”

“What story?” The two of them asked at the same time.

I began, “An old man loved his peace and quiet, but there were always a bunch of kids making noise outside his door. On the first day, he gave each child ten pieces of candy, telling them how much he loved seeing them play and making noise, and promised more candy if they came again tomorrow.”

Both of them looked at me, confused, as if they didn’t see the connection between my story and this strange brick path.

I cleared my throat. “The kids were thrilled and showed up the next day. The old man was true to his word, but this time everyone only got five candies. The kids grumbled but accepted it.”

“You probably see where this is going.” I continued, “On the third day, the old man gave just one piece of candy to each kid. The kids got mad and swore they’d never play outside his place again.”

The Village Chief said, “Yeah, that’s just like Wu Xiufen dropping villagers’ wages—same tactic.”

I snapped my fingers. “The old man wanted his peace, but he didn’t start off demanding it. He pretended to love the noise, knowing people want to do what they’re told not to. If you act like you love what you actually hate, you get what you want.”

I pulled a random blade of grass and twirled it between my fingers. “That’s classic reverse psychology—the old man and Wu Xiufen both used it well. People are born with a rebellious streak. Tell them not to do something and they’ll be all over it. So you pretend to love what annoys you and suddenly everyone helps you stay happy your way.”

The Village Chief nodded, realization dawning on his face. “Right. After Wu Xiufen stopped paying us, nobody ever went back to help. She ended up doing it all herself. Then a few days later, she fired the workers. Villagers snickered, saying Wu Xiufen was too sly for her own good and got her comeuppance.”

He gave a weary laugh. “Sometimes, I wonder—Wu Xiufen started the community center for everyone, but in the end all she got was grief. Was she too dumb, or too clever for her own good?”

I shook my head. I’ve heard stories like this too many times. A famous celebrity helps build a road for their hometown but gets slammed for spending too little or making a road not sturdy enough. Honestly, being the bad guy is easy—being a truly good person is a nightmare.

To be a good person, you have to do good all your life just to get a little respect. But a villain? Just put down your knife and suddenly, you’re a saint. Choosing to be good is ‘hard mode’ for life.

Still, Wu Xiufen seemed to have studied some serious dark psychology or social manipulation. Most folks would never dream up a scheme like this.

I said, “Like I mentioned before, there was no way to sneak in all these bricks and cement without anyone noticing. So why not just move them in openly? Once you turn the villagers against you and fire all the workers, Wu Xiufen could do whatever she wanted alone.”

“But here’s the big question,” Gu Chen said. “What was Wu Xiufen really up to?”

I said, “She was building a place for the killer to hide. The killer’s in their early twenties now, so five or six years ago they would’ve been fifteen or sixteen—just old enough to start forming their worldview and learn to survive. Maybe that’s when our killer started stalking these people.”

Just then, my phone rang. It was Mary calling.

“Wu Meng, I’ve got a breakthrough,” Mary said, getting straight to the point.

I perked up. “What did you find?”

“We’ve tracked down the IP address of the person posting those online stories,” Mary told me. “The killer always posted online but hid their IP. It always showed up as overseas. From the very first story, I’ve been trying to crack it. I finally succeeded just now. And this IP address—you guys know it well.”

She didn’t have to finish. I said, “Is it Xingdong Village?”

Mary said, “So you’ve already figured it out?”

I glanced at my watch. There were still a few minutes before the killer’s second scheduled contact.

“That’s right. In this one day in Xingdong Village, I’ve figured out a lot,” I said quickly. “It’s almost time to spring the trap. Have you pieced the bowls back together yet? The killer insisted the cracks couldn’t show at all.”

“Don’t worry,” Mary said with a smile. “People’s lives are at stake, so we found the best porcelain restoration expert we could. He usually does antiques, so putting these bowls back together was a breeze. You can count on us.”

Mary went on, “You know the IP is in Xingdong Village—but do you know which ID was used to set it up?”

I went silent for a moment, then guessed, “Wu Xiufen?”

“You got it again?” Mary said in surprise.

“Is it really Wu Xiufen?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mary confirmed.

Gu Chen spoke up, “You keep nailing these—why her? What’s the real link between Wu Xiufen and the killer? Why is she helping them so much?”

I said, “Remember that USB-to-COM cable? That’s how the killer got online. The killer lives in Xingdong Village, posting after every attack, then heading to Dongxing City to kill. Afterwards, they came straight back and waited for the next post and the next kill.”

“But—” I changed tack. “There’s no way the killer could show their face around here. In a tiny village, strangers stand out a mile. Someone had to provide food and water. Wu Xiufen never visited anyone, never let anyone visit her house—ever wonder why?”

“Why?” Gu Chen and the Village Chief asked in unison.

I answered, “Because Wu Xiufen was sheltering the killer. She couldn’t risk anyone seeing them. And we already know the killer is an expert in psychology—that reverse psychology trick probably came from them. They knew they couldn’t stay at Wu Xiufen’s place forever, too risky, so they built a secret hideout right here in Xingdong Village.”

The Village Chief shook his head. “But I don’t know of any corners of Xingdong Village I haven’t seen myself.”

In that moment, Zhao Mingkun’s words resurfaced in my mind—and finally everything clicked into place.