Chapter 294: Liang Mei’s Letter

2022-05-20

I shut my eyes and clenched my hair in frustration. Why did Liang Mei have to disappear now, of all times? Over seven years, these thirteen people, though burdened with their own secrets, had stayed quiet. But in just one week, so many of them ended up dead. What was the spark that set this all off?

And even if someone wanted to avenge Lü Zhiqiu, why wait seven years? We’d believed the killer might be Lü Xiangyang, since he was only just coming of age after seven years, finally old enough to understand. But if Lü Xiangyang isn’t the killer, then why the long wait?

Suddenly, I realized there were so many things I didn’t understand. The truth was right in front of us, but for some reason, we just couldn’t grasp it. That feeling was driving me crazy.

It seemed clear now—unless we found Liang Mei, we’d never figure this out.

“First things first, we need to find Liang Mei. She’s the key to this whole case,” I said.

“But…” Zhao Mingkun shrugged. “Where are we supposed to look for her?”

I fell silent. Good question. Where could we even begin to look? Liang Mei left everything behind, even her job, and vanished without a trace. Whatever took her away must’ve been urgent.

Right now, we’ve got nothing to go on. All we can do is wait.

At noon, after a simple bowl of noodles, Zhao Mingkun and I sat around at home, unsure what to do next. Just when it seemed like the day would slip by in dull silence, an unexpected phone call cut through the stillness.

Zhao Mingkun picked up her phone and said slowly, “Take a look at this number.”

I leaned over. The caller ID wasn’t saved.

I scratched my head and asked, “So? What’s up with this number? Is there something strange about it? Seriously, who would call you anyway? One of those three women?”

In all the time I’d known her, Zhao Mingkun’s phone had never rung—she always made the calls, never the other way around. But now, someone was calling her. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Liang Mei,” Zhao Mingkun said quietly.

“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “Liang Mei?”

She nodded, dead serious. “I’ve called this number plenty of times, but no one’s ever picked up. But now, Liang Mei called me herself.”

“Put it on speaker,” I instructed.

Zhao Mingkun hit speaker, and a woman’s voice came through.

She glanced at me, then spoke up. “Is this Liang Mei?”

“It’s me!” The woman’s voice sounded rushed. “I have something important to tell you. It’s about the killer from seven years ago.”

“What?” Zhao Mingkun pressed.

I leaned in, my ear almost touching the phone. Liang Mei rarely called—but this time, she got straight to the point.

“The killer from seven years ago is…” Liang Mei began.

Neither Zhao Mingkun nor I could have guessed she’d call at this exact moment, or that she’d immediately start revealing the truth about the case from seven years ago. But just as she spoke, a sudden scream burst through the line: “Ah!”

The sound was so jarring we both jumped. Zhao Mingkun’s hand shook so badly she almost dropped the phone. And then Liang Mei’s screams just kept climbing, growing more raw and desperate, every second thick with pain.

“What’s happening?” I yelled. “Liang Mei, what’s going on!?”

“It’s you!”

That was the last thing we heard from Liang Mei. After that—just an endless silence, broken only by the faint hiss of static.

But the call didn’t disconnect. It kept going.

Zhao Mingkun and I held our breath, straining to catch any sound on the other end. But it was dead quiet.

Then, Zhao Mingkun tapped her phone and signaled for me to listen closely. I shut my eyes. At this point, sight was useless. Sure enough, with my eyes closed, I caught it—a soft, measured breathing coming and going through the line.

Which could only mean: someone had picked up the phone, pressing it to their ear, just like we were, listening in.

But Liang Mei never made another sound. Had she fainted? Or had the killer just murdered her on the spot? And who was the killer? Why had Liang Mei called us? Did this mean she wasn’t the killer herself? Then why did she have that photo?

The silence dragged on, like some bizarre silent play. There was the occasional car horn on our end, but the other side was utterly still. Where exactly were they? Was the killer now listening in, possibly plotting more revenge?

After what felt like an eternity, the call ended with a sharp beep.

Only then did Zhao Mingkun and I dare to let out the breath we’d been holding. We stared at each other, both in shock. It was all so surreal—over as quickly as it had started. A long moment passed before my mind caught up with what had just happened.

If my gut was right, Liang Mei must have been killed just then. She had to have discovered something important—something she was desperate to share with us. But the killer struck in the middle of her call, killing her before she could name them.

Liang Mei’s final words were filled with surprise. That ‘you’—it carried so much emotion.

From that single word, we understood: Liang Mei knew her killer. That must’ve been why her shock poured out like that. And if she recognized them, chances are, it was one of her classmates. After all, around twenty of them interned at the construction site back then.

Wait! There were twenty in total.

Fourteen of them lived in Dongxing City. The rest left after a while. I’d been so focused on those thirteen people that I’d made a big assumption—why did I always think the killer had to be among them? Why couldn’t it have been someone from the other seven?

Even if they left Dongxing City, there’s nothing stopping them from killing Lü Zhiqiu first, then skipping town. So really, the pool of suspects includes seven more people. And now, if this killer came back seeking revenge, they might target all twenty.

This would also explain why the killer’s revenge took seven painstaking years. They’d have needed time to track down those seven who left the city. After finishing them off, they turned their sights on Dongxing City’s group. That was probably the entire plan.

“Call their advisor!” I turned to Zhao Mingkun. “No matter what it takes, we have to find the contact info for the other seven. The killer out for revenge could be one of them.”

“Got it!” Zhao Mingkun nodded.

Afternoon crept in, but we were still at a total loss. We knew the odds were slim for Liang Mei now, but we had no clue where she’d gone or what she’d found out. Which meant we were stuck for the time being.

That’s when Gu Chen called us again.

“Gu Chen?” I answered. “Any news on the person I asked you to look into?”

“No,” Gu Chen replied. “That’s not why I’m calling. Manager Wang, who says he’s Liang Mei’s boss, messaged me on QQ. He says he has a lead for you. Here’s his number…”

Manager Wang? What lead could he possibly have?

I called Manager Wang back. “Someone told me today that Liang Mei’s work computer turned itself on,” he said. “When I checked, I saw that Liang Mei had sent an email to herself.”

“She sent an email to herself?” I repeated. “Send it to me on the QQ I gave you. I’ll read it myself.”

“No problem,” said Manager Wang.

Because of my current situation, logging in with my own QQ could get my IP traced. That’s why Gu Chen and I share his account. I logged in and, sure enough, saw a message from Manager Wang with the email attached.

The first line of the email hit me like a punch: If you’re reading this, I’m already dead.

I frowned and kept reading.

“Seven years ago, I did two things I regret most in my life. One was with Yang Licheng. The other was taking that photo. Both left me with lingering consequences. One: I had a son—something I never regretted, despite everything. The other: I saw something I was never meant to see, and that regret will haunt me forever.”

“To be honest, I never liked Lü Zhiqiu, but I never hated her enough to want her dead. That night, after a huge fight with Yang Licheng, he told me I was just his way of venting over not getting Lü Zhiqiu. I was so useless—I cried for ages. Then, as I was about to leave, I heard something.”

“I followed the noise, and saw a scene I’ll never forget—a corpse. Lü Zhiqiu’s corpse. No one else was around, just a heavy silence, and Lü Zhiqiu lying there on the ground. For a moment, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

“The second Yang Licheng left, hatred surged in me—at him, at Lü Zhiqiu. I wanted the both of them gone. And then, right after, I turned and saw Lü Zhiqiu’s body. I was terrified and weirdly excited. It was my first time seeing a corpse, and I don’t know why, but I did something in that moment that haunts me to this day…”