Chapter 290: Catching Lü Xiangyang

2022-05-20

As the ambulance sped away down the street, the small clinic quickly filled with noise again. People crowded around, bombarding me with questions about what had happened, but I just wasn’t in the mood to answer anyone right now.

I turned to the doctor and asked, “Tell me, is it easy to get mercurous chloride?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the principle isn’t complicated. Anyone with even a little knowledge should know about it. You’d learn this kind of stuff in high school. If someone put their mind to it, even a high schooler could do it. The only question is whether my guess is correct.”

“Judging from what we saw at the scene, you’re right,” I replied.

The doctor smiled. “See? I didn’t even go to the scene and I could guess it. Doesn’t that prove the method’s pretty simple?”

I gave a nod. From a technical standpoint, this wasn’t a complicated way to kill someone, but it was definitely clever. If the killer set up this trap in advance, all he had to do was wait.

That means the killer understood Wang Xin’s personality well. He knew Wang Xin loved to show off, especially whenever guests came over. So, Wang Xin dug out that incense burner, even though it wasn’t his own.

Mercurous chloride isn’t very toxic, and as long as it’s kept out of the sunlight, transporting it is easy. Placed inside the incense burner, it slowly breaks down into highly poisonous mercuric chloride, and then all that’s left is to wait for Wang Xin to seal his own fate. Of course, the killer got an unexpected bonus this time—Yang Licheng ended up dead too, which maybe he didn’t plan on.

Yang Licheng was supposed to be hiding out at Wang Xin’s place to avoid trouble, but who could imagine that hiding there was actually the most dangerous choice? Suddenly, I realized something. The killer has murdered so many people yet never showed up at the scenes. Is it possible he used another method like this before—something simple in principle, but unexpectedly clever?

I frowned, deep in thought, trying to picture what sort of person this killer really was. He had to be smart, someone who liked to think and spend time alone. Probably liked tinkering with things. He also knew chemistry. Just thinking about it made one person leap to my mind: Lü Xiangyang.

Both his girlfriend and his closest friend mentioned in their statements that Lü Xiangyang loved to experiment with strange things. In classic alchemy, the three great elements are salt, sulfur, and mercury.

So, would Lü Xiangyang use mercury to kill? Absolutely possible.

“Well, that’s it for now,” I told the doctor. “Thanks for your help, whatever the case.”

He nodded, then shook his head before speaking. “These days, being a doctor isn’t easy. When I was in university, I dreamed of saving lives. But after seeing so much over nearly twenty years, I’ve watched too many people around me get cheated and wronged. Especially when it comes to life and death, the greed and darkness in human nature is terrifying. I’d never want my son to become a doctor.”

I stepped out of the clinic and glanced at the banner by the medicine counter that read, “Heal the sick, save lives, skilled hands bring people back from the brink.” I couldn’t help feeling something stir inside me. Maybe this doctor had his own story too.

Zhao Mingkun asked, “I’m guessing you’re not going to the hospital, right?”

I nodded. “Given our current status, there’s no way we could get into the hospital. The doctor just told me the truth—Yang Licheng and Wang Xin are probably beyond saving. They inhaled a huge amount of poison without realizing it, and with no immediate rescue, well… I doubt either of them will make it.”

“Life really can be that fragile,” I added with a sigh. “But there’s something else. Not sure if you noticed.”

“What do you mean?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I continued, “Wang Xin’s place has terrible ventilation. Who gets poisoned and who doesn’t really depends on how much mercuric chloride was used in the incense burner. Clearly, the killer didn’t use much—otherwise we’d all be dead by now. He knew exactly how much to use, not enough to kill everyone in the house.”

“So, you’re saying the killer isn’t especially cruel?” Zhao Mingkun looked at me. “He just wanted those thirteen people dead, but he didn’t intend to kill anyone else? But if that’s true, what about Hu Xiaoxue? She wasn’t even born when Lü Zhiqiu died seven years ago—why would he go after a child?”

I frowned. “That’s what’s baffled me too. Jiang Xiaochun and Hu Pei might have had a motive to hurt Lü Zhiqiu, but Hu Xiaoxue is innocent. And Jiang Xiaochun didn’t even die, just lost his mind from fright. It’s strange, but that’s not the point I wanted to make.”

“That’s not it?” Zhao Mingkun pressed.

I nodded. “Right, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what are you getting at?” Zhao Mingkun asked again.

“Precision,” I said, climbing onto Zhao Mingkun’s motorbike. “The killer was precise, down to the last detail, especially with the dosage. He calculated exactly how much it would take to kill Wang Xin. Whether he wanted to kill anyone else or not, it feels more like a habit.”

“A habit?” Zhao Mingkun echoed.

I nodded. “Yes. The truth is basically in our hands now.”

“So, what do we do next—”

Before Zhao Mingkun could finish, my phone started ringing.

“Gu Chen?” I answered. “Did you find anything?”

There was a lot of noise in the background on Gu Chen’s end. Amid the commotion, Gu Chen said, “I’ll send you an address in a minute. Come over—I’ve got Lü Xiangyang.”

“You caught Lü Xiangyang?” I asked.

“That’s right!” Gu Chen sounded out of breath, like he’d run a marathon, and it was hard to tell what kind of chaos was happening on his side.

“I’ve got some things to deal with now,” Gu Chen went on. “Get over here quick, or you might never see me or Lü Xiangyang again. I don’t have time to chat—address is on its way. Hurry up.”

“Hello? Gu Chen? Gu Chen!”

Gu Chen had already hung up. Judging from that call, he’d run into trouble. Just a few seconds later, an address popped up on my phone. I handed it to Zhao Mingkun and said, “We need to get to this place now. Gu Chen might really be in danger.”

Zhao Mingkun glanced at me. “I thought he was tough—what kind of danger could he get into?”

“Who knows, but it sounds serious. And don’t forget, he’s got Lü Xiangyang.” I said.

Zhao Mingkun started up the motorbike, tearing down the street. She shouted to me over the roar of the engine, “So Lü Xiangyang never left Dongxing City for the south. He’s been here all along. His suspicion is looking really strong. You think he pulled all these stunts just to throw us off?”

“Very possible,” I replied. “Honestly, this whole case really just fell into our laps by accident. If things had followed the normal course, Hu Pei’s death probably wouldn’t have been discovered until at least a day later. If we’d followed the standard clues, we’d be a whole day behind.”

“That’s true,” Zhao Mingkun agreed.

I continued, “If we followed that path, we wouldn’t have found out anything about Lü Xiangyang until tomorrow. So many people have died already, and besides the four women in that dorm who are still alive, everyone else is dead. Give Lü Xiangyang another day, and I bet even those four would be gone.”

Zhao Mingkun glanced at me in the mirror. “So, you really think Lü Xiangyang’s the killer?”

“I’m not ready to swear on it yet!” I shot back. “But at least we’ve found him. Even if he’s not the killer, he’ll be able to prove his innocence, right? Actually, I have a feeling Lü Xiangyang isn’t the murderer.”

“How come?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I tapped my chest. “Just a gut feeling. And the facts don’t add up. Lü Zhiqiu and Lü Xiangyang are years apart in age. Lü Xiangyang wouldn’t know his sister’s classmates. He’s got no connection with any of these thirteen victims—I’ve never heard any of them even mention Lü Zhiqiu’s little brother, so chances are they didn’t even know who he was.”

“Is that address far?” I asked. “You better step on it.”

Zhao Mingkun gave a cold snort. “You know why I prefer bikes to cars?”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

She replied, “Hold onto me.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around Zhao Mingkun.

The moment I held her, Zhao Mingkun yanked up the front wheel, and when it slammed back down, I realized this didn’t feel like a motorbike anymore. It wasn’t moving fast—it was practically flying.

The wind blasted past us, shredding her words to pieces. “Bikes are faster. Don’t have to worry about getting stuck in traffic.”

“Could you slow down a bit? This is way too fast. If a car pulls out, we won’t even have time to dodge!” I shouted.

Zhao Mingkun burst out laughing. “You’re the one who told me to go faster, remember?”

“This is way too fast…”