Chapter 318: What I Can’t Stand

2022-05-20

Zhao Mingkun spoke up. “The killer never expected that among the four best friends from back then, the one who left their lives so early—Xu Man—actually knew one of the killer’s most crucial secrets. This was something the killer never shared with anyone, but as they say, nothing in the world stays truly hidden.”

I shrugged. “You’re right. Sometimes being smart and having good habits isn’t always a blessing. For most people, keeping a diary is a way to hone their writing and logical thinking.”

Right then, Jiang Xiaochun hugged herself, burying her head deep down. The three of us understood—there were hardly any secrets left between us anymore. Still, Jiang Xiaochun seemed much more at ease now. Human nature is weird that way. The harder you try to hide something, the more awkward it becomes. But when you stop trying, you end up handling it better than ever. Talk about a paradox.

I kept going, looking at the two of them. “The killer had no idea that seven years ago, a friend named Xu Man secretly read her diary. And when Xu Man saw those entries, she was utterly shocked.”

As I laid out the facts, I tried to imagine what happened back then: “Xu Man saw the killer pouring out her heart about Lü Zhiqiu, and learned that the killer wanted to be Lü Zhiqiu’s guardian—forever protecting her school goddess from the shadows.”

I went on. “Xu Man was just curious at first. She never imagined she’d stumble upon such a massive secret. This became a burden she carried for life. Maybe she never spoke about it simply because she never got the chance, not because she didn’t want to.”

I glanced at Zhao Mingkun, then at Jiang Xiaochun. “In the end, Xu Man snatched away Hu Pei, Lü Zhiqiu’s boyfriend, just like she wanted. But Xu Man forgot one thing: she knew that even if Lü Zhiqiu found out she was being betrayed, she wouldn’t be angry at her. Flip that around—if Hu Pei refused to leave Lü Zhiqiu, Lü Zhiqiu would forgive him too. Hu Pei’s the worst kind of guy, I honestly can’t see why anyone likes him.”

I shrugged again and continued. “Once he’d had his fun, Hu Pei completely ignored Xu Man. She ended up pregnant with his child but couldn’t bring herself to tell him. In the end, when she had no other choice, she finally confessed. But all Hu Pei did was brush her off and tell her to deal with it herself.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “With nowhere else to go, Xu Man had to rent a place by herself. Skipping classes for so long got her expelled from school, and that’s when she lost touch with everyone—including Hu Pei.”

I stared at Jiang Xiaochun, speaking seriously. “So, you never knew, did you? The child you raised was really Xu Man’s kid. The child of your enemy. Maybe you’ve always been torn about this deep down. Maybe you even wished that Hu Pei and Xu Man could be together, so then you’d have a shot with Lü Zhiqiu.”

“But here’s the thing!” I shook my head. “You also didn’t want Lü Zhiqiu to be hurt. She’s so naïve, so pure, she’s faced so much hardship in her life and yet never showed a trace of resentment. All she’s ever done is bring warmth and kindness to the people around her, even if it means going out of her way.”

“Sigh.” I let out another deep sigh. “And maybe because of that, you couldn’t bring yourself to kill Xu Man seven years later. Because let’s be real, at that point, what’s one more person? But it’s because of that hesitation that we were able to uncover your secret and lay all the blame at your feet.”

I spoke slowly, word by word. “Isn’t that right, Jiang Xiaochun—the real killer?”

Jiang Xiaochun kept her head low and didn’t respond.

I went on. “But who actually killed Lü Zhiqiu? No one really knows. A lot of people had the motive. At one time or another, they all wanted her dead. Maybe the true killer was selfishness itself—the kind that wears a thousand masks and gives a thousand excuses, trying to convince themselves it was Lü Zhiqiu’s fault, when really, it was nothing but deep-seated jealousy and a growing, poisonous selfishness.”

“Whether it was Hu Pei, Luo Ding, Wang Yikai, Yang Licheng, Zhao Pingjuan, Wang Xianduo, all of them are guilty. Killing someone’s spirit is just as cruel as killing their body. Even if Lü Zhiqiu herself didn’t care, those words still stabbed deep into her heart.”

Looking at Jiang Xiaochun, I said slowly, “And that’s why you wanted to kill everyone involved, isn’t it? You couldn’t bear it. You wanted to seek justice for that naïve fool Lü Zhiqiu, right?”

Silence. A long, heavy silence.

When Jiang Xiaochun finally looked up again, her face was streaked with tears.

“Yes! I did it for Lü Zhiqiu. She treated all of them so well, but what did she get in return? Every single one of them was a backstabber. They’d ask her for favors when they needed something but would toss her aside the moment they were done.”

Jiang Xiaochun’s face was soaked with tears, her whole body shaking. Even after all these years, she couldn’t hold back her anger. “They stuck Lü Zhiqiu with the bill, but never invited her to parties. They’d rush to team up with her just so they could dump all the work on her. They treated her like a servant, here one minute, gone the next. Never once did they see her as a friend.”

She bit down hard, her words practically spitting from her mouth: “Everyone who circled around Lü Zhiqiu had an agenda. No one truly cared what she wanted. And yet, time after time, she just kept forgiving them, kept smiling. And what did she get back?”

“This world!” Jiang Xiaochun glared, throwing the blanket aside, and snapped, “This world never leaves a path for the kind-hearted. Kindness only makes you a target. The more patient and forgiving you are, the more others walk all over you. Dongxing University students? Please. They’re all just the worst. Each one uglier and blacker-hearted than the last.”

I had nothing to say. All I could do was let out one sigh after another.

But Jiang Xiaochun wasn’t done. “And yet, the most gentle, promising person—Lü Zhiqiu—is dead. While those wastes of space just keep thriving, getting good jobs, good families. I can’t accept it. It’s a mockery of her death. Good people die young, scum live forever. How am I supposed to watch those people climb to the top and become rich and powerful? I just can’t stand it. They all have to die. They all need to pay.”

“So you finally decided to kill them all—no one left behind,” I said quietly.

“Exactly!” Jiang Xiaochun replied. “The deeper our investigation got, the more I found to hate. Every time I uncovered their dirty secrets, my resentment grew. If that’s how it is, then let them all come down with me.”

I sat slowly on the bench. “Honestly, I guessed long ago that you wouldn’t try to run. I knew it—the minute all this was over, it was the end. The only reason you kept up the act was to make sure every last one of them was dead. Maybe you still had a lingering doubt, too. Even as you say this, you still long to know who really killed Lü Zhiqiu, don’t you?”

“You’ve waited seven years for this,” I said. “So why not wait a little longer?”

“Wait?” Jiang Xiaochun sounded hollow, drained, as she sat on the bed. “Wait for what? What more is there to wait for? I’ve waited seven years already. How many more sevens do I get?”

In the end, Jiang Xiaochun and Xu Man were the same kind of person. Their lives had lost hope—a past clinging to nothing but memories.

“Your whole life was ruined,” I told her. “You didn’t have to go down this path. You could’ve found someone you cared about, gone to a different city and left all this pain behind. Begin again. Why chain yourself here? Why keep sealing yourself within these memories?”

Jiang Xiaochun suddenly looked straight into my eyes. Her voice was eerily calm, cold as a machine. “Have you ever—ever felt a burning urge to finish something? Ever needed, absolutely needed, to find the truth? Have you ever thrown everything away just to be with one person?”

“I have.” In that instant, a flood of memories rushed through my mind.

“Then you get it,” Jiang Xiaochun stood up. “Then you know exactly how I feel.”

Zhao Mingkun and I exchanged a glance. In each other’s eyes, there was a sliver of relief. This case was finally over. The killer sat right here in front of us, a woman in her thirties. Sometimes, hate burns through everything. Sometimes, love does. We still didn’t really understand what it was about Lü Zhiqiu that made Jiang Xiaochun so obsessed, but maybe that’s what love is—unreasonable, unfathomable.

I shook my head with a helpless smile. There was one thing, though, that didn’t add up for me. Even if Jiang Xiaochun gave Hu Xiaoxue’s mother sleeping pills to keep her knocked out, Jiang Xiaochun wouldn’t have had much time to move around without arousing suspicion. So how could she be sure her targets were home? If she miscalculated, things could’ve gotten awkward. But that wasn’t important now. What mattered was we’d caught the killer.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Jiang Xiaochun suddenly dropped to her knees with a dull thud.

“Give me one more chance,” she begged. “I just want to do one last thing. I’m not going to kill anyone, I swear. I just… I just want to see Lü Zhiqiu one last time.” Her voice was hoarse, thick with emotion as she knelt on the floor.

She lowered her head to the ground, hitting it hard again and again until blood trickled from her forehead. “I swear, I have no plans to run. My life fell apart seven years ago anyway. Where could I even go now?”