Chapter 383: Still No Closure

May 20th, 2022.

We sat in the car, not really knowing what to say to each other. Gu Chen wasn’t driving. He sat in the back seat, his face dark and brooding, silent as ever. I watched him through the rearview mirror, lost in my own thoughts. With Gu Chen’s skill, even if he couldn’t save Yang Ting, I couldn’t believe he failed to even grab onto Yang Ting’s clothes.

Maybe he noticed me staring. Gu Chen suddenly spoke: “It was raining hard, and I slipped. I should’ve been able to grab Yang Ting, but I never even touched his clothes.”

Mary picked up on the strange tension in the air and said, “It’s too late to talk about it now, the guy’s dead. What matters is what we do next—is the case finally over?”

I shook my head, glanced away from Gu Chen, and stared out at the pouring rain. “Don’t forget why we came back in the first place.”

Gu Chen sighed. “We still don’t know the truth behind Gu Hui’s death. It rained for days back then, and that night when all the villagers set out to search for Gu Hui, they trampled the scene with a mess of footprints. Even if the killer left any clues, they’d be ruined by now.”

I kept the conversation going. “And the only real suspect everyone had—the one we all doubted, Teacher Gao—died by suicide in his own home. We only know he went out to meet someone. We don’t know who, or what they talked about.”

Mary didn’t seem to follow all this and just stared at us, lost for words.

Gu Chen stayed silent, too. A chill crept across the car, making things feel even heavier.

Gu Hui’s death and the deaths of the four people who followed were clearly not the work of the same hand. We’d only resolved the second half of the case. The real puzzle was: on a night with no one around and the roads washed by rain, why did Gu Hui run out into the storm?

For villagers, the courtyard is more than big enough for kids to run around and play. That fits with what we’d guessed before—a little kid, just a few years old, goes out alone and ends up drowning in a pit. Someone must have lured Gu Hui out.

But I’d already asked Gu Hui’s family. Gu Hui was always a quiet, well-behaved girl. She wouldn’t just run around with those boys. And her best friend? That was Hu Ningning—the one who’d gone missing. According to the coroner, Gu Hui died in the evening. That same day, Hu Ningning was home.

Before that, Hu Ningning had been staying at Teacher Sun Qingqing’s house. Is that all a little too convenient?

Now, both bodies had been sent to the autopsy room, along with Zhang Zuochen’s, which had arrived earlier. That made three corpses in total.

Question: Why do three bodies only take up two beds?

Answer: Because two of the corpses were strung together like skewered candied fruit.

Coroner Wang stared at the two bodies in silence for a long time. Finally, he said, “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. Dissecting these two—it’ll take at least seven or eight hours. But at least our case is wrapped up. Alright, you two, lend me a hand.”

Mary frowned at the corpses, then suddenly snapped her fingers. “Wait—I just remembered I’ve got a few loose ends to follow up on. Where’s my laptop? I’ll head out and check.”

As we watched, Mary slung her laptop over her shoulder and walked out the door.

“That’s like looking for a donkey while riding one,” Coroner Wang muttered, pulling on his gloves. He looked at Gu Chen and me. “Just you two will do.”

I snapped my fingers. “Wait, I just remembered—Hu Ningning is still here. Gu Chen, toss me the car keys, I’ll drop her off at home first. She’s been gone for a week—her parents must be worried sick. You guys get started, and I’ll be back to help you later, Coroner Wang.”

I slid the car keys off Gu Chen’s belt and waved as I left.

Right as I stepped out, I heard Coroner Wang say to Gu Chen, “No way you’re getting out of this…”

I made my way out with the keys, only a dozen steps before I heard noise up ahead. There was a huge crowd gathered for some reason, even though the case was supposed to be finished. Curious, I hurried over. Mary was standing at the edge, so I went up and tugged at her sleeve.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Mary’s face was grave. She glanced at me and said, “Guo Limin got back before us and asked to use the bathroom. She’d only been in there a couple minutes when there was a loud crash from inside.”

Mary waved her hand. “Guo Limin smashed her head against the wall. They’re rushing her to the hospital now. I just saw them load her into the car, but honestly, it doesn’t look good.”

She pointed to the blood on the ground. “You see that? I heard she threw herself at the wall with everything she had. This time, nobody could stop her from ending it.”

I rubbed my temples, watching the crowd dissolve into chaos.

Guo Limin was determined to die. No matter what anyone did, you can’t stop someone already dead inside from acting. From the moment Zhang Zijun died, she was already gone.

Uncle Chen came over just then. Seeing us, he let out a heavy sigh.

“She might make it to the hospital, but she’s not coming back out,” Uncle Chen said as he handed me a cigarette. “She won’t last that long. Guo Limin is gone.”

He lit his cigarette. “That’s that. It’s over. The couple left one after the other. Their son, too—while they were alive, the three of them could never be together, but maybe in death they won’t be apart.”

I took the cigarette but didn’t light it, instead asking, “What about Hu Ningning?”

“She’s in the dormitory,” Uncle Chen replied. “Everyone was busy dealing with Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin, so we forgot to notify her family. I’ll go round up her parents and grandparents right now. Oh, and where’s Gu Chen?”

I said, “He’s helping Coroner Wang with the autopsy. Tell you what—I’ll just take Hu Ningning home myself. There’re still things I need to figure out, and I can use the time to ask her some questions.”

“Alright, you go,” Uncle Chen nodded, mumbling, “Didn’t know Gu Chen was suddenly interested in forensics. While the roads are still passable, you should get going. Looks like this rain won’t stop for days—if it pours any harder, you might not be able to drive here at all.”

“Got it,” I said with a nod.

When Hu Ningning came out, she looked worn out beyond her years. Even though she was only nine, asking her about these things felt cruel, but I still had a pile of unanswered questions.

I drove, glancing at Hu Ningning through the rearview mirror. She sat quietly in the back, not uttering a word, staring out the window, exhausted.

“During the days you were taken, did you ever hear your aunt and anyone else talking?” I asked.

Hu Ningning nodded. “Yes, uncle and aunt talked together a lot.”

“Zhang Zijun? Zhang Zuochen’s dad?”

“That’s right,” she answered with a nod.

But that wasn’t the answer I wanted. I pressed further, “I mean, did anyone besides Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin talk to them?”

Hu Ningning thought back for a moment. “No, or at least not in front of me. They didn’t make calls around me—except when they talked to you.”

So Hu Ningning didn’t know anything about Wu Zui and the others. Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin had never planned to kill her. In fact, Guo Limin tried to convince her this was all a game. Of course, clever as she was, Hu Ningning never fell for that trick, and played along just to survive.

“Did they ever ask you about those people they planned to kill?” I continued.

“No,” she said, shaking her head softly. “I only knew they wanted to kill someone, but I didn’t know who.”

Hu Ningning stared at her feet, not meeting my eyes. But this story contradicted what Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin told us. Both insisted they learned everything from Hu Ningning, but she swore she’d never said anything.

So there were only two possibilities: either Hu Ningning was lying, or the couple lied.

But would Hu Ningning lie? Why would she, unless she was terrified that admitting anything got four people killed and she’d be blamed herself? It wouldn’t be strange for a nine-year-old to keep things bottled up. Still, I couldn’t believe two adults would commit murder based solely on a child’s word.

Which meant Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin were lying. But why? People near death tend to tell the truth—they had nothing left to lose. If I had to guess, Wu Zui gave them most of the information, and the couple just lied about it to cover Wu Zui’s tracks.

Kidnapping Hu Ningning was just a cover; they’d never planned to get any real intel from her.

It all fit together that way.

But with Guo Limin almost certainly dead, my hopes of grilling her for Wu Zui’s whereabouts vanished along with her. There’d be no answers now.

The village roads were muddy but still driveable. If the rain got any worse, they’d be washed out again, and cars wouldn’t be able to get through at all.