Chapter 305: The Delay Mechanism

2022-05-20

“That’s right!” I said quickly. “These people all share a common trait—one we never considered. I’d never noticed it before, but thinking about it now, the other three women—Zhang Xue, Zhao Pingjuan and Zhou Moli—might not actually be safe. The killer isn’t letting them go. The killer just knows there’s no way these women can escape.”

“What do you mean?” Zhao Mingkun noticed how serious I looked and immediately asked, “Are you saying the killer is in the process of murdering those three? But they all left using different forms of transportation. How could the killer be in three places at once?”

I shook my head and said, “The killer doesn’t need to be in three places at once—it’s all been meticulously planned. Those three are in danger. Call them now.”

Even though Zhao Mingkun wasn’t sure what I meant, he followed my instructions, but after three calls, nobody answered. He looked at his phone, then at me. “It’s no use. Can’t reach any of them. I know Zhao Pingjuan and Zhang Xue flew out, but Zhou Moli took the train. Judging by the time, all three should’ve reached their destinations by now.”

Hearing Zhao Mingkun say that, my heart sank. I realized those three were probably doomed as well.

“Those three are most likely dead too,” I told Zhao Mingkun.

“How can you be so sure?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I looked at him. “All those Dongxing University students have one obvious thing in common. But because they didn’t show it, we’ve overlooked it this whole time.”

“What commonality?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I pointed at my eyes. “They’re all nearsighted. Unlike us, they’ve spent day after day hunched over books and staring at their phones. It’d be rare if any of them weren’t nearsighted. But every time we’ve seen them, none of those women were wearing glasses.”

Zhao Mingkun replied, “That’s true. Guys like Hu Pei and Yang Licheng wear glasses. But I can’t remember seeing any of those women with glasses. If you’re right, they either had corrective surgery or were wearing contact lenses.”

I snapped my fingers. “Exactly, they must’ve all been wearing contacts. That also explains why Xing Yafang acted so strangely. Many chemicals—strong acids and bases—can corrode the human body, but most won’t break down plastics. That’s what makes plastics so resistant, why they don’t degrade. They’re just too stable.”

“That makes sense,” Zhao Mingkun nodded.

I went on, “Do you know what modern contacts are made of?”

Zhao Mingkun shook his head. His eyes were healthy. He never paid much attention to this stuff.

I explained, “Silicone hydrogel—a material that’s not easily corroded. Even if you put it in your eye, ordinary environmental factors won’t break it down and harm the eyeball. Imagine this: the killer poured a corrosive mixture they’d prepared into the contact lens solution. After the gathering, when those women went to the restroom to care for their lenses, they ended up poisoning themselves as soon as they touched the liquid.”

Zhao Mingkun’s eyes widened. After a moment, he spoke up, “So Xing Yafang spent two minutes in the restroom. That seems awfully brief, not even enough for a proper bathroom break. So the real reason was she went in to touch up her makeup—and care for her contacts?”

I nodded seriously. “Remember how strange she acted in the elevator? At first she was fine, then started using the elevator’s reflective walls to check her own eyes. We thought she saw something spooky in there!”

“Right,” Zhao Mingkun said. “Everyone thought it was a ghost or something.”

I shook my head. “I studied this closely. The wounds on Hu Xiaoxue and Liu Ruijie’s eyeballs are very different from the others. They both had injuries at the front of their eyes, but the others had damage to the sides. That means the fluid spread differently in their eyes.”

“That’s the difference between wearing contacts or not,” I said. “Remember Wang Xianduo? She was perfectly fine chatting with us, but when she went to do her makeup, something went wrong. I think it all happened at that crucial step—while handling the contacts.”

“So the pain was unbearable and she smashed her face against the glass to ease it?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I nodded, then shook my head. “Can’t say for sure, but at least it’s reasonable. It looks like Deng Xuemei’s chemical mix may not have been super corrosive, but maybe once it hit the eyes, it caused excruciating itching. That’s even more likely.”

“So—” I patted the table softly. “Those three were in danger from the beginning. It didn’t matter when they used their contact lens solution, that was the moment they’d die. My guess is Hu Xiaoxue saw her mother using contacts and wanted to try it herself.”

I shook my head and sighed. “So the daughter ended up dying instead of her mother. After the killer prepared everything she needed, she never had to return to the scene. In her mind, these people were already dead—it was just a matter of time before they stopped breathing.”

For a moment, we sat in silence.

Then Zhao Mingkun asked, “But how’d the killer get the chemicals into the contact solution? Maybe it’s possible if there were just one or two targets, but with so many, not every woman would bring her own lens solution every time. Did Deng Xuemei sneak into their houses? She was only close to Lü Zhiqiu. The rest barely even knew her name.”

I frowned, unable to answer. I realized I’d been too optimistic. I thought finding the killer would answer everything—now I saw there were still so many mysteries left.

Just then, the administrator we’d all but forgotten suddenly gasped and blurted out, “Why are there so many moths in here?”

Both Zhao Mingkun and I spun around. The administrator had opened the desk drawer behind me. He jumped back in shock as soon as he saw inside. A sharp herbal scent mixed with something rotten wafted out—hard to describe, but definitely unpleasant.

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

“Look!” The administrator didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. “Check out all the huge moths in here.”

Zhao Mingkun and I leaned in. Sure enough, the drawer held a mess of big moths and a slender plant stalk. At the very back were a small knife, a bowl, and a pestle for crushing things.

Just looking at the moths, you could tell they might be toxic. The moths were naturally white, with bloated bellies. Their wings were dusted in powdery white scales unique to these insects. Some had their wings torn off, and those wings were missing their white powder.

The plant had stalks only, no leaves. Its surface was covered in rows of tiny thorns. I took off my gloves and carefully brushed one with my finger. There was a prickling pain. If you brushed against the thorns the wrong way, you’d probably get a handful of barbs. Lower down, I noticed the stem had scraping marks.

Putting my gloves back on, I picked up the small knife and examined it in the light.

On the blade, I could see traces of green and white powder. No doubt, someone had scraped powder from the moth wings and also shaved off the plant’s barbs.

I picked up the bowl and saw it was filled with green and white powder, some of which still clung to the inside. It was pretty obvious.

The whole scene quickly clicked into place. Someone had gathered moths and this peculiar plant, scraped scales from the moth wings, shaved off the thorns, and then crushed it all in the bowl. Honestly, unless someone was bored out of their mind, no one would go through so much trouble just for fun.

And especially for a biotechnology major from Dongxing University—this couldn’t just be a quirky hobby. There had to be a reason.

The administrator shook his head. “Weird. Maybe it’s some folk remedy? Grind this up and smear it on your face like a mask? Or drink it with water to lose weight? The more educated people get, the more bizarre these things become.”

He was just complaining, but his words gave me an idea—a method of killing, simple in principle but dangerously clever.

“It’s not just a folk remedy.” I remembered an unexplained death and spoke up. “This is a murder method. The doctor was right—the killer’s technique was something any attentive high schooler could pull off, but none of us ever saw it coming…”

“You mean—” The administrator instinctively stepped back. “This is for killing someone?”

I nodded solemnly. “That’s right. This is for murder. And now I know who it was meant for…”