Chapter 409: A Trap Within a Trap

2022-05-20

My mind felt like it was flashing scenes from a movie. In an instant, all those memories came flooding back. From when I first became aware, as I grew up, when I joined the Special Investigation Team, when I lost everything, when I started believing I was Wu Zui.

Everything was clear and yet blurry at the same time, but I knew—I was myself.

Guilt delusion is an early sign of schizophrenia, but in reality, it’s more of a psychological illness. I’d never seen myself so clearly as I did right now. I am Wu Meng, not Wu Zui. I’ve never killed anyone. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve what’s happening to me—I don’t deserve to be wrongly accused.

But what hurts me most is the fact that all my friends betrayed me. Even Team Leader Shao didn’t recognize me. Maybe they set me up from the beginning, but when it came to discussing the pawns in this case, they never said a word.

“Keep moving forward,” Zhao Mingkun urged, gripping my hand tight.

And it was only now that my heart found a fleeting warmth—Zhao Mingkun was the only one who recognized me, the only friend I had left.

But after we rounded a corner, a heavy steel grate suddenly blocked the sewer passage. The bars were thick and the gaps between them too narrow—there was no way through. Suddenly Zhao Mingkun’s eyes widened in realization. “It’s bad. We’ve been set up.”

She shot me a quick look. “Stay close to me.”

She led me back the way we’d come, but by then it was impossible to go back. The path was already blocked by a group of people. Bright flashlight beams lit up the surrounding tunnel, spilling into every dark corner. The sudden light startled the rats, sending them scurrying for cover.

“Teacher.” A young man in his twenties spoke up. “You were exactly right.”

My memory snapped into focus. I’d met this young man once before. His name was Wen Runzhi. What I hadn’t known was he was Shao Shilin’s student. Standing beside Wen Runzhi was none other than Shao Shilin himself.

No wonder, on the ride here, these people had left me behind—it was all part of Shao Shilin’s plan.

“You arranged all of this,” I said, looking at Shao Shilin. A wave of helplessness and sadness washed over me.

If not for Shao Shilin, I might have stayed in the psychiatric hospital for a long time. But he, from the very start, had treated me as nothing more than a chess piece.

And now I could see this was another trap—a snare meant to catch Zhao Mingkun.

“You knew from the start that I was Wu Meng, not Wu Zui, didn’t you?” I looked Shao Shilin in the eye.

Shao Shilin nodded. “That’s right. Even if you two are twins—even if you look and sound exactly alike—you’re still different people. Did you know, the day in the interrogation room, all those things I said about Zhao Mingkun were meant for you.”

“I know your character,” Shao Shilin went on, his voice calm. “I knew you’d never compromise with me on this. The first time I heard Wu Zui speak, I realized who he was. The person sitting across from me had to be Wu Meng. You suffer from guilt delusion, always doubting your own identity and needing others to tell you who you are.”

“So you chose to let Zhao Mingkun reveal the truth to me, instead of telling me yourself?” I stared at Team Leader Shao.

Team Leader Shao let out a sigh. “I know I owe you an apology, but we had to catch someone. We had to catch Zhao Mingkun. But trust me, you were never in any real danger…”

“So to catch the bad guys, you think it’s okay to treat me like an idiot? To catch the bad guys, it’s fine to spin me around your little games? It was you who let me join the Special Investigation Team, you who gave me everything—and now you’re the one tearing it all down. If I’d never known what friendship felt like, maybe I could have survived loneliness. But now, you’ve ruined it all!”

“I’m just a pawn to you. Is this the justice you pride yourself on? Is it right to hurt others in the name of justice?”

Anger rose up inside me, hotter than anything I’d felt before.

Is this really justice? I didn’t know anymore.

Team Leader Shao fell silent and just sighed again. “Grab Zhao Mingkun.”

Someone began to approach us.

“Stay back, Shao Shilin. After all these years, you should know who I am. I haven’t killed anyone lately, but back then? I’ve left more corpses behind than you could count. I’m sure you know that.”

They hesitated and stopped where they were.

Shao Shilin looked at Zhao Mingkun. “We’ve been going at this for nearly ten years. Of course I know what you’re like. Working for Shi Huacheng all those years must have weighed on your conscience. I know you never really had a choice. But killing is still killing—there’s nothing else to say.”

He turned to me. “Maybe you don’t know, Wu Meng, but Zhao Mingkun donated all the money she made to Project Hope. She even helped establish a Hope Elementary School. She grew up an orphan, so she supports orphanages all across the country, hoping those kids don’t end up like her. Maybe she’s done bad things, maybe she’s done good. Who knows?”

I’d always suspected Zhao Mingkun had her secrets. At last, I knew her greatest one. Maybe she was a good person deep down, but she never showed that side to anyone else. Maybe she just wasn’t used to it. Or maybe she really didn’t want to.

She was always a queen in her own way.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’ll kill him!”

Shao Shilin replied, “Just try.”

“You know, back in the day, I always thought I was the wind—wherever the wind blew, the grass bent. Later I realized I was just one of those blades of grass. I could never escape the shackles fate forced on me. No matter how much I struggled, I could only ever graze fate’s ankles, not its throat.” Zhao Mingkun’s voice was steady, almost serene.

“But I still count myself lucky,” she went on, sincerity in her eyes. “Thirty years of life, all my crazy experiences, all those people—good, bad, and unhinged—that’s something most people never see in three lifetimes. I’ve witnessed too much death—but I’m still afraid of dying.”

“By the way,” she suddenly teased me, “Wu Meng, do you remember what I used to say? If the ending is set, maybe it’s better to die early and be done with it.”

Zhao Mingkun pressed her head tightly to mine. I had a sudden, terrible understanding, but before I could say a word, she clamped a hand over my mouth—she didn’t want me speaking.

She called out to Shao Shilin, “Shao Shilin, our ten-year struggle ends here. One last thing—did Yang Xiaojun ever wake up?”

Shao Shilin fought back his sorrow. “She passed away a few years ago.”

Zhao Mingkun laughed—a bright, bell-like sound. But tears streamed down her face. “That’s good. Now I can go in peace.”

Then she looked at me. “Wu Meng, I told you not to get mixed up in all this, but you never listened. I even said I’d probably die because of you, and look—it’s like I cursed myself. You never listen. But the days I spent solving cases with you were the best of my life.”

Her voice dropped so low only I could hear her. “Remember the story I told you? After people die, they become stars in the sky. The more people remember them, the brighter that star glows. I know my star is pretty dim, but I just hope there’s someone who remembers I fought against fate, even if I lost.”

“Wu Meng, don’t worry about me. There are plenty of kids out there who’ll never forget the big sister who warmed their world. Maybe that makes me selfish. Wu Meng, if there’s another life, I’d still want to be your sister.”

“Silly little brother, don’t do anything stupid, okay? Shao Shilin did all this for justice. I always said he’d clear your name in the end—and now he has. I’m tired.”

“Brother, see you in the next life.”

I couldn’t stop crying. I knew what Zhao Mingkun meant by peace—Yang Xiaojun was gone, so the guilt would eat at her even more, driving her to her final decision.

“Sister,” I choked out.

She never planned on making it out alive.

She traded her own life to give both me and Shao Shilin closure.