Chapter 245: Wu Zui, the Troubled Youth

May 20, 2022.

While lights glowed in every home, only our room was shrouded in darkness. It felt like we lived in a different world, untouched by the noise and chaos outside.

People don’t share their shame with others because those listeners are trustworthy. They confide because that other person is just as broken.

Kindred spirits, battered and flawed, often see in each other wounds they themselves have never known. Suddenly, you realize there are people out there even worse off than you. You watch them, and it gives your own shriveled vanity and pride a tiny, guilty sense of satisfaction.

Deep down, those with low self-esteem are also prideful. We’re all the same that way.

After five minutes of silence, we both put on new faces, like we could wipe away just how exposed we’d been a moment ago.

Trying to sound casual, I said, “If I want to find my parents and learn if they’re alive or dead, I have to find Lai San. And to find Lai San, I need to find Wu Zui. I’m guessing Guan Zengbin’s disappearance ties back to Wu Zui, too.”

“First things first, we need to find Guan Zengbin.” I locked eyes with Zhao Mingkun.

“You mean your little girlfriend?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I kept quiet. Suddenly, it hit me—both Guan Zengbin and Team Leader Shao wanted Zhao Mingkun caught as quickly as possible, so that mess from seven years ago could finally be laid to rest. But now, I was teaming up with Guan Zengbin’s sworn enemy to try to find her. Life really is unpredictable sometimes.

I said, “There’s definitely someone else pulling the strings behind this case. When we faced off with the killer, they hesitated about some things. Especially when Yama tried to kill me, and the Uncle Personality stopped him. From their conversation, I realized there’s another group involved.”

Frowning, I propped my chin in my palm. “That has to be it. Even the Wu Zui I saw underground might have been the real one. He told me the real game is just beginning. But what sort of game is it? What else do you know about Wu Zui?”

Zhao Mingkun fell silent for a moment, let out a sigh, then finally said, “From what I’ve found, Wu Zui grew up mixed up with the wrong crowd.”

I waved a hand. “To anyone else listening, you’d think you were describing me.”

My words seemed to bring something to mind for Zhao Mingkun. She packed up our almost-empty bowls of congee, putting them in a plastic bag, and then slipped that bag into another one before she replied. “True. Wu Zui’s a lot like you. But you had a father to guide you. He never had anyone.”

“What’s good and evil, right and wrong?” Zhao Mingkun said quietly. “Everyone sees those things differently. When Wu Zui was just seven years old, he fought with a classmate over some so-called girlfriend and pushed the kid off the sixth floor.”

“To keep suspicion off himself, he jumped off too,” Zhao Mingkun said, each word slow and steady. “His classmate died on the spot. But Wu Zui landed on top of him—broke a leg and an arm. Investigation said the two had just been playing chase on the roof when they both fell. Who’d ever guess a seven-year-old kid could be so twisted inside?”

My heart lurched as she spoke. When evil takes root in someone so young, then grows for twenty years, what kind of monstrous tree does it become?

Zhao Mingkun kept going. “In his teens, Wu Zui thought he wasn’t getting enough allowance, so he tried to make some cash on his own. What would you do in his place?”

“Get a part-time job?” I said, but shook my head right after. “Nobody’s hiring kids that age.”

“Back in middle school, he noticed one classmate always wore designer brands. Figured the kid must be loaded. So Wu Zui used every trick—helping him out, finding him girlfriends—to get close. Soon, they were best friends.”

“And then?” I asked.

Zhao Mingkun said, “As friends, the other boy always invited Wu Zui over and showered him with gifts. But Wu Zui wasn’t satisfied—money was coming too slow. After a few months, he noticed the boy’s father always came home wasted on Friday afternoons.”

“That gave Wu Zui an idea,” Zhao Mingkun continued. “He had a girlfriend at the time. That day, he took her out to lunch and made sure she got good and drunk. Then he called a cab to his friend’s place. The house had lots of rooms, so he stashed his sleeping girlfriend in one at random, then settled in to play computer games with his buddy.”

By now, I could already guess what was coming next.

She went on, “As expected, that afternoon, the father came home drunk as usual and crashed in his room. Wu Zui excused himself to use the bathroom, and put his girlfriend in the father’s room while he was at it.”

“So Wu Zui used that as leverage against the boy’s father? Blackmailed him for money?” I asked.

“That’s how I know you’re not Wu Zui,” Zhao Mingkun said.

“Is there more?” I pressed, puzzled.

Zhao Mingkun nodded. “Exactly. That alone wouldn’t bend the father’s will. So, Wu Zui used a towel from home to suffocate his own girlfriend while she slept. Then he dragged the father on top of her.”

A chill crawled down my spine. If an adult did something like this, at least you could try to rationalize it. But a teenager, already this cunning—it was terrifying.

Zhao Mingkun gave a faint smile and continued, “He cleaned up everything. To set up an alibi, he even took off his pants and started washing them. When his friend finally came looking, complaining he’d taken too long, he was still in the bathroom barefoot, scrubbing away.”

“The friend teased him forever about it, and Wu Zui begged him not to tell anyone. After that, they went back to gaming. They played until nightfall without mentioning a word about the girlfriend or the friend’s father. Finally, the friend noticed neither of them had stirred all afternoon and decided to go upstairs to check.”

“So the friend saw it all first.” Zhao Mingkun shrugged. “And from there, things unfolded as you’d expect. The friend’s father thought he’d accidentally killed the girl, too. Wu Zui got a huge payoff to keep his mouth shut. As soon as the money was hidden, he called the police.”

I paused for a moment, then asked, “Wu Zui called the police himself?”

Zhao Mingkun nodded. “Investigators only found two people’s traces at the scene. Wu Zui was meticulous—after moving his girlfriend, he even brought her shoes so it looked like she’d walked there herself. When the police arrived, he volunteered as a witness, confirming the father’s drunken confusion.”

“That’s how it went.” Zhao Mingkun said, “Since there was no evidence of intent to kill, the sentence wasn’t severe. If he’d tried to hide the body instead of reporting it, he would’ve had a much harder time later on.”

“Later, the friend’s father even thanked Wu Zui in person. Said if not for him, he might not be alive today.”

A picture of Wu Zui as a teenager formed in my mind—cold-blooded, cunning, willing to do anything to get what he wanted. Even the girl he was dating was nothing more than a means to an end. Afterwards, there was no guilt, maybe even a sense of triumph.

A person like that is truly frightening. And now, seven or eight years later, what kind of man has Wu Zui become?

“After that, Wu Zui burned all the money,” Zhao Mingkun looked me in the eye.

“Burned it?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “Wasn’t the murder for money in the first place? Why burn it after going through all that?”

Zhao Mingkun sighed, repeating her earlier point. “That’s how I know you’re not Wu Zui. No one else could ever be him. At first, yes, it was for money. But partway through, Wu Zui realized the outcome wasn’t what mattered most. What he craved was the process.”

“That careful planning before the kill. That rush when the plan worked. The thrill of tricking everyone involved. The satisfaction of escaping suspicion. That’s what really got him fired up. It was the process that excited him most.”

Darkness clouded Zhao Mingkun’s face. “He burned the money because he wanted to keep going. The cash was just a bonus. What he really loved was the game itself. Your Shao Shilin would call people like that…”

“A genius,” I finished, almost matching her word for word.

“But how do you know all this in such detail? It’s almost like you were there.” I frowned, fixated on Zhao Mingkun, waiting for her answer.

Zhao Mingkun said, “Because he told me himself.”

“He told you?” My confusion only grew. “So, what’s your relationship to Wu Zui?”

Standing perfectly still, Zhao Mingkun replied, “I’m his older sister. He’s also the son adopted by Shi Huacheng. My adoptive father brought him home when he was ten. Shi Huacheng was always busy with experiments, never had time for him—I was the one who looked after him.”

“I just never thought he’d turn out like this.”