Chapter 326: Lü Xiangyang’s Coming of Age

2022-05-20

The past week passed uneventfully, giving me a rare chance to actually sleep in. But the moment I relaxed, it got harder to sleep soundly at night. Every midnight I’d hear quiet rustling. I knew what it was—Zhao Mingkun heading out for her own matters again.

It felt like she was secretly up to something and didn’t want me to know, even though we both tacitly understood what was happening. Every night she’d slip away, and we both pretended nothing ever happened.

Thinking back, Zhao Mingkun had actually saved me more than a few times by now. I guessed she was investigating Wu Zui’s case. But since Wu Zui took Guan Zengbin away, she’d vanished without a trace, like she’d disappeared from Dongxing City altogether.

With someone as clever as Wu Zui, slipping away without a trace would hardly be difficult.

Still, as time dragged on, the frustration inside me grew. Guan Zengbin’s been missing for over a month now, and we still don’t have any decent leads. Gu Chen only tracked the trail as far as a hotel just outside Xingdong Village, but nothing further. We haven’t managed to pick up that trail again.

In investigations, impatience is the enemy. Lose your cool and you can’t think clearly.

Just as we were bracing for many more days like this, Gu Chen finally called. That call was like finding an oasis in the desert—suddenly, there was hope again.

Gu Chen told us over the phone that the address for Rob was a fake. It was just a convenience store, and Rob didn’t actually work there. But the shopkeeper told Gu Chen that Rob had instructed him to hold any letters that arrived, promising to pick them up himself. So far, Rob still hadn’t come back for any.

Gu Chen rented a room next to the shop and slipped the owner five hundred yuan, asking him to keep Rob occupied if he showed up. Now Gu Chen was waiting for Rob to appear in that southern city. It’d been about a week; Rob should show up any time now, and with that, we’d finally get some answers.

Gu Chen also let us know that Sister Mary checked into things—two months ago, during a ten-day period, apart from logging into QQ, WeChat, and his Baidu account, Lü Xiangyang hadn’t played a single game. So the story about fighting a gamer was pure fiction.

But in the Baidu search records, Lü Xiangyang had looked up Lü Zhiqiu’s case a lot.

Seven years ago, the internet wasn’t what it is today. Fewer people online, fewer discussions—almost nobody ever posted anything about that case, so it never turned into a hot topic. Lü Xiangyang likely found nothing useful and was left empty-handed.

Still, these Baidu searches proved one thing—Lü Xiangyang was plotting revenge all along. In fact, everything started with him—he was the catalyst. That, plus spending money to stage a fake kidnapping by a pyramid scheme gang, was rock-solid evidence proving he’d lied.

Maybe Lü Xiangyang wouldn’t face any major punishment in the end, but anyone who does wrong needs to face consequences.

I passed this info from Sister Mary on to Zhao Mingkun. She sat on the ground, gazing down at the cars streaming by, and said without turning around, “So when are we going to see Lü Xiangyang? And have you decided what to do? Even if it’s all on him, he was a minor at the time, and with his parents pulling strings, it’s possible he’ll never spend a day in jail.”

“But,” Zhao Mingkun glanced my way, “there’ll always be a stain on Lü Xiangyang’s record. Jiang Xiaochun has already shouldered the blame, but if the families find out Lü Xiangyang was involved, do you think they’ll let him off?”

I shook my head and said firmly, “No chance.”

Zhao Mingkun nodded in agreement. “Exactly. So Lü Xiangyang will never have a peaceful life. And honestly, I don’t pity him at all. I want to hear your take—what do you want to do?”

“What about you?” I didn’t know what answer I had in my own heart, turning to Zhao Mingkun.

She shrugged. “Me? I’ve killed people, but I’m selfish—I’m not looking to die yet, so I’d run. But Lü Xiangyang has no idea we know everything. If you want to catch him, he won’t be able to escape.”

I took a deep breath before finally saying, “Let’s go see Lü Xiangyang first. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“Sounds good,” Zhao Mingkun replied.

But before we could go looking for him, Lü Xiangyang came to us instead. Turns out, tomorrow would be his eighteenth birthday, and his parents had planned a huge party for him—an important milestone. His father was sending out invitations, but didn’t know our department, so he asked Lü Xiangyang for help.

Lü Xiangyang got my number from his girlfriend, then called to invite us.

We agreed right away. After all, we needed to meet with Lü Xiangyang anyway.

After hanging up, I glanced at my phone and joked, “Guess I’ll need to swap phone numbers after this case is over. Too many people have it now.”

That would mean bugging Sister Mao for help with a new SIM card yet again.

At noon the next day, we arrived at Lü Xiangyang’s eighteenth birthday party as agreed. We checked the scene, saw there was no one unexpected lurking around, then stepped inside and took our seats. Before long, the birthday celebration began.

Up on stage, Lü Xiangyang was smooth and funny. Every joke set off a fresh round of laughter from the crowd. But while everyone else was smiling, something in his own smile felt off to me, almost haunted. Suddenly it hit me—soon it would be the eighth anniversary of Lü Zhiqiu’s death. I didn’t know why that memory came to me on such a happy day, but it sure didn’t belong.

The banquet was full of excitement, and once it was over, the guests all left—but the birthday boy didn’t leave with them, or even with his parents. He was left alone. When we stepped out of the restaurant, we followed Lü Xiangyang. He didn’t seem to notice. From behind, his shoulders looked a little lonely.

Lü Xiangyang was heading toward a high school—not his old school, but I recognized it. Years ago, Lü Zhiqiu had graduated from there before getting into Dongxing University.

A group of teenagers burst out of a nearby alley, the boy in front looked about fourteen or fifteen and was crying as he ran.

Close behind, another teen kicked him to the ground, and the rest quickly surrounded him.

“I’m out of money! I really am!” the boy sobbed from his knees.

“Don’t lie!” another kid, also about fourteen or fifteen, shot back. “Saw you at lunch, hiding a hundred bucks in your sock. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Hand it over or get beaten!”

The boy sobbed even harder, begging, “That’s my lunch money for the week—please don’t take it, I won’t tell anyone at home.”

The ringleader, a blond boy, didn’t budge. He kicked the boy again. “Yeah right! And if you dare tell your parents? Hold him down, grab his cash—time to hit the internet café!”

Suddenly the group started roughing him up.

I was about to call out from a distance, but Zhao Mingkun tugged my arm and gestured. I followed her gaze and saw Lü Xiangyang break into a run.

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As he ran, Lü Xiangyang shouted, “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Let him go!”

But the kids ignored him.

In seconds, Lü Xiangyang reached the scene, yanking the crying boy upright. But by then, the hundred yuan from the boy’s sock was already in the blond kid’s hand. The group, not knowing who Lü Xiangyang was, still surrounded him, emboldened by their numbers.

Standing protectively in front of the boy, Lü Xiangyang barked, “What’s this—bullying your classmate?”

The blond kid just grinned. “Not just him, I’ll bully you too. So what if you’re older? We’ll still beat you up. What school are you from? Give us your money or my fist’ll teach you a lesson.”

I frowned, anger smoldering inside. But Zhao Mingkun held me back, murmuring, “Let’s wait and see.”

Glancing at her, I saw she was still smiling, not bothered at all—in fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

“What, you want to fight me too?” Lü Xiangyang challenged. “Take a look behind you!”

The middle schoolers glanced back, but from where I was standing there was nothing behind them. Quick as lightning, Lü Xiangyang grabbed the boy’s hand and dashed away, catching the bullies off guard for a moment. The rest quickly snapped out of it and gave chase.

But the boy, still limping from that earlier kick, couldn’t keep up with Lü Xiangyang. Almost right away they were separated, and soon enough the blond kid and his crew caught the boy again. As Lü Xiangyang ran, he looked back to see the boy surrounded once more.

Lü Xiangyang came to a halt. The bullies didn’t bother chasing him—they clearly only cared about the other boy. Lü Xiangyang stood motionless in the distance, watching them. We all knew he was facing a choice.

He could just walk away like nothing happened, or he could go back and help the boy, even though he might get beaten up for his trouble.

The group of teenagers ignored Lü Xiangyang, shouting at the boy to kneel as punishment for running away.

I’d had enough. In my mind, I gave Lü Xiangyang ten more seconds. If he didn’t act, I was stepping in myself.

Time seemed to stop right then, shadows falling and the whole world shrinking down to Lü Xiangyang standing alone in a sliver of light.

He just stood there, watching the group.

What choice would he make, now that he was finally an adult?