Chapter 386: The Pretender

2022-05-20

This old Optimus Prime Transformer had been lying around for who knows how long. In my earlier conversation with Li Xiaoyan, we learned that Zhang Zuochen once owned two Transformers—one ended up at Guo Li’s house but was secretly placed in her old home by Guo Limin to mislead our investigation.

The other Transformer had been sitting at Hu Ningning’s place for ages. Since Zhang Zuochen died half a year ago, that means Hu Ningning has had it for at least six months. I remembered her saying that Guo Limin and Zhang Zijun tried to catch her because she was friends with Zhang Zuochen and might know who had bullied him.

But then Hu Ningning insisted that neither Zhang Zijun nor Guo Limin ever asked her about any of that. I’d even once casually asked her if Zhang Zuochen had ever given her a toy, and she said no. So, how did this Transformer end up in her hands?

Was it just the passage of time making her forget, or… did she take it for herself?

Mulling this over, I changed into clean clothes.

Gu Chen was still nearly two hours away. By the time he arrived, everything would be up to him.

Back in the main room, Hu Ningning was telling everyone what she’d been through this past week. I sat quietly to the side, watching her tell her story. Her voice was sweet, her features charming, and she just had a way of drawing people in without even trying. She described getting through the week with quiet strength.

But in truth, the only time Guo Limin actually tied Hu Ningning up was when leaving the house, just to keep her from running or calling for help. The rest of the time, Hu Ningning was fine—she wasn’t mistreated or made uncomfortable at all. But listening to her now, you’d think she’d survived a week in a prison camp.

“Hey there.” Hu Ningning’s grandpa walked in from outside and said, “Come with me for a bit, Gu Zhi needs help over there. The rain’s pouring down, and I’m worried the tent over Gu Hui isn’t sturdy enough.”

“Gu Hui hasn’t been buried yet?” I turned to ask her grandpa.

He nodded as he pulled on his raincoat. “That’s right. Maybe it seems strange to you, but around here, most folks are buried seven days after dying. But Gu Hui’s grandfather said they can’t lay her to rest until the real killer is found, or else she’ll become a lonely wandering soul, doomed never to find peace.”

Hu Ningning’s dad let out a sigh. “Superstitions, really.”

I was about to agree when he went on, “But fourteen days should be fine. Fourteen days is the Ghost Festival—when the gates to the afterlife are open, and spirits can roam as they wish.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Just then, Hu Ningning’s mom spoke up: “Come on, Gu Chen has helped us so much—it’s only right for us to pitch in when we can. I’m coming too, let’s see if there’s anything I can do.”

She turned to Hu Ningning. “You and your uncle stay home. Help your grandma set out the dishes for dinner. We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Hu Ningning nodded.

Normally, I’d have gone to help too, but for once, the house was quiet—just me and Hu Ningning. It was rare for us to be alone together. If there was anything she was hiding, now was my chance to ask.

Hu Ningning seemed pretty happy. It wouldn’t be long before she could go back to school and see her friends again.

Right now, she was busy scrolling on her phone. I could hear all sorts of app notifications.

The rain outside poured so hard it felt like it was soaking straight into my soul. My mood was as heavy and damp as the storm. I reached out and gently took Hu Ningning’s phone from her hands. She frowned at me, clearly annoyed—I must have interrupted her mid-conversation.

She looked at me, a hint of irritation in her voice. “What’s wrong, Brother Wu?”

I met her gaze and said slowly, “Since it’s just us, how about I tell you a story?”

“A story?” She reached out for her phone again, but I turned it off. “I want to tell you about a little girl.”

Hu Ningning hesitated, glancing at her phone, her tone cooling. “What’s up, big brother? Why the sudden story?”

I looked back at her and began, “This story starts about a year ago. There was this little girl, just starting first grade. Her village was far from the school and there was no direct bus, so getting to class was a hassle. Her math teacher, who lived in the same village, volunteered to give her rides to and from school—Teacher Gao.”

Hu Ningning must have realized she was the girl in this story, because her face darkened. Her eyes turned cold, the playful spark was gone. Suddenly, she gave off a chilling aura, something I’d only seen in certain people before. For a ten-year-old to look at me like this… Hu Ningning was much more calculating than I had imagined.

I went on, “After a while, they did everything together—commuting, studying, you name it. There was a boy, a bit older, who always tagged along…”

I trailed off, then picked up, “He was good-looking too. Naturally, he caught the girl’s eye. Over time, she developed a crush on her math teacher. One day, during tutoring, she even tried to kiss him, hoping they could be together as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Hu Ningning stared right back at me, trying to read every thought on my face.

I glanced at the downpour outside. Looked like there was no way we’d be getting out tonight.

I continued, “But the math teacher was shocked—this wasn’t something a nine-year-old should even think about. He refused her and realized he had to stop giving her rides before things went too far. But the girl couldn’t accept that kind of rejection.”

“That’s right,” I said, forcing a smile. “She was sharp, did well in school, got along with teachers—and she was more ambitious, cunning, and vain than any other kid her age.”

Hu Ningning watched me with an I’m-listening expression.

“She was smart too,” I said. “She knew how to get what she wanted without getting her own hands dirty. It felt better to have others do her bidding. So what would she do? She’d befriend the troublemakers, use money, toys, exclude people from the group—anything to get her way, maybe even something I can’t imagine.”

“She’d blend in, always adapting to whoever she was with. No one ever really saw her true face.”

Hu Ningning’s eyes curved into a sly smile. “She sounds impressive.”

“Doesn’t she?” I said with a bitter laugh. “She never bullied anyone openly. She wanted everyone to think she was the model kid. But inside, she was full of darkness, of wicked thoughts. I don’t know what happened in her past to make her that way. She’d never faced real rejection before.”

“If someone can’t have something, but can’t stand anyone else having it either, sometimes they’ll destroy it instead.” My voice dropped. “That’s the evil lurking in every heart, and for this girl, it just kept growing—until it became a plan.”

I stared at Hu Ningning, pressing on: “So one day, she set everything up with a single lie, hiding it behind the excuse of a tutoring session. No matter how mature or clever a little girl acts, though, she doesn’t realize—the world wants evidence. In the end, that teacher was released.”

I shook my head. “But the girl understood something else. The world doesn’t always care about evidence. People just want to believe what fits their version of reality. Truth doesn’t matter, as long as the story makes sense to them. Whether Teacher Gao did something or not, the rumor spread like dandelion seeds—everywhere, on the wind.”

“And the one who set those seeds aloft was Gu Hui,” I said. “Maybe Gu Hui never realized what her words meant, just repeated what she’d heard. But that’s what broke the camel’s back. The girl watched as Teacher Gao lost everything. She’d never felt so happy.”

“Happy, was she?” I asked, watching Hu Ningning for any reaction. “Do you think that girl really felt happy?”

I stared at her, searching for a flicker beneath her stone-cold expression. I said, “I’ve never told you how many people died, but when you got back, you told me point-blank: four kids had died. You said Zhang Zijun and Guo Limin never asked you about the case, so how did you know how many died and that they were your classmates?”

“Did it make you happy?” I pressed. “Gu Hui never understood, but maybe someday she would. Maybe one day she’d realize what her words cost Teacher Gao. Maybe she’d confess, maybe not. But you were so scared of that possibility you killed her with that pit, didn’t you?”

“Are you happy now?” I said softly. “You got your way, but here you are, sitting quietly as if nothing happened. Are you really happy?”