Chapter 68: The Bravest Among the Timid

2022-05-20

They asked Li Taida why he was laughing.

Li Taida told them, “This is just how the world is. You’d better get used to it.”

It was Zhou Guo’s first and last demerit.

After that day Zhou Guo fell for Zhang Xue, the girl who stood up for him. From then on, no one dared bully Zhou Guo or Zhang Xue again. The five of them became close friends.

One night, after too much to drink, the five of them lay side by side on the school rooftop.

They didn’t go home that night, instead they just talked, swapping stories as they gazed up at the night sky.

Li Taida said he hated men who hit women most. His own father used to hit his mother every day, until she finally ran off with someone else and vanished without a trace. Li Taida quietly admitted that he missed her.

Zhao Erming sighed. “I’m not much better off,” he said. “My mother makes me wait until midnight before I can go home.” He wanted to hate her, but he just couldn’t.

Lin Rou took a long swig from her beer, crushing the can with her hand. She admitted her home life wasn’t all that great either. She had a younger brother, but their father and grandmother treated her like she didn’t exist. Ever since she was little, they couldn’t stand her. When she was three, her grandmother even threw her into a trash bin.

If it hadn’t been for her being mature at a young age, climbing out of the trash herself and finding her way home, she probably wouldn’t even be alive. She said she loved her brother. He was the only one who understood her.

Lin Rou shared her story too. She didn’t want to hate anyone—she just wanted a good night’s sleep.

Zhou Guo spoke up as well. He wasn’t brave enough to fight back and never told the teacher when he was bullied, all because his mother was bedridden, paralyzed on one side.

She put him through school by stitching cross-stitch patterns for a living, getting by on welfare. He didn’t want to make life any harder for her.

He wasn’t clueless—he knew how to stand up for himself. He just worried that if he fought back and had to pay for damages, his family couldn’t afford it.

No one spoke after that. Instead, they raised their beer cans in silent understanding. The details of their tragedies were different, but the emotions all echoed the same. Five young souls clung to each other, talking about the past, the present, and whatever the future might hold. Did they even have a future? What would it look like?

Li Taida said he dreamed of buying his mother a house so they could all live together someday.

Zhao Erming said he wanted to see the world, to travel everywhere he could.

Lin Rou always dreamed of opening a café and becoming her own boss.

Zhang Xue just wanted to leave this city and go somewhere nobody knew her.

Zhou Guo’s dream was simple—he just wanted his mother to get better.

Everyone else’s dreams might have seemed far-fetched, but at least they were possible.

For Zhou Guo though, that dream felt impossible. Zhang Xue had met his mother before. Her illness was so bad she could barely sit up in bed. She was only forty but looked closer to fifty. There was no treatment—only fate could decide how long she’d last.

That night, all five drank too much. They watched the endless stretch of darkness, stars blinking down at them.

Five adolescents, each with stories weighing heavy on their hearts.

They promised to reunite on the rooftop two years later with drinks in hand.

They became best friends, moving up together from first to third year of middle school.

One day Zhang Xue said, “Sometimes I really want to say goodbye to this world… Just jump down from here and end it all. No more troubles, no more sadness.”

Zhou Guo looked at her and said, “Why does it have to end like that? You could go somewhere that no one knows you, just like you dreamt of.”

“Dreams need money,” Zhang Xue replied, tipsy and glassy-eyed as she looked at the stubborn boy who liked her.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the others chimed in.

Whose dream doesn’t need money, anyway?

They fell asleep up on the rooftop, dreaming maybe, just maybe, their wishes would come true.

It wasn’t long before the entrance exams.

Zhang Xue felt a well of sadness, knowing they’d soon go their separate ways.

Life always seems full of things we can’t control. Some people live in darkness but never consider giving in. Yet others, still holding some hope, give up their lives far too easily. Compared to these five, it’s hard to say what drives someone to that point.

I sent a text to the others telling them not to keep following if nothing suspicious came up.

I told Zhang Xue, “I can help you. I’ll arrest your father.”

Zhang Xue nodded, then suddenly asked me, “Is life always this painful, or is it just like this when you’re young?”

I went quiet, unable to answer. That famous line from the movie ‘Léon: The Professional’ echoed in my mind. Since Zhang Xue had quoted it, she’d definitely seen the movie. Léon’s reply was, “Always like this.”

But facing a fifteen-year-old girl, I just couldn’t bring myself to say something so harsh.

“That’s a question you’ll need a lifetime to answer for yourself,” I finally replied.

Zhang Xue shrugged, then turned away to take off her apron.

“Wait!” I blurted out.

“What is it?” Zhang Xue stopped, startled.

I stood up and looked at her, asking slowly, “Who taught you to tie that knot?”

Zhang Xue looked confused. “Zhou Guo showed me. He said people in South Africa use knots like this to pull fruit off trees. The more you pull, the tighter it gets, so it won’t slip. But if you want to untie it, you just slip your finger into the loop and tug—it comes off easy. Super handy.”

My mind buzzed. This knot was identical to the one used in Wang Yiman’s hanging. I’d taken special note of it at the time. I never expected to see it here, with Zhang Xue.

Could that timid, quiet boy really have done something like that?

“That day you were beaten up, did Zhou Guo ever leave your side?” I pressed, an idea suddenly striking me.

“No. He stood in front of me the whole time and never backed down,” Zhang Xue answered, adamant. “That fool—he’s terrified of everything, but he still tried to protect me.”

So Zhou Guo was the bravest of them all.

“Where does Zhou Guo live? You’ve been to his place, right?” I asked quickly.

Zhang Xue gave me his address.

I pulled out my phone and entered Zhou Guo’s address into the map. The moment I saw the location, everything finally made sense.

When I had analyzed the case, I marked the spots where the three victims had died. I’d thought for sure the fourth would be in the area I predicted.

But the fourth wasn’t there after all.

If you trust a source too much, it’s as bad as having no information at all. If I had cross-checked the locations, I would have realized—they exactly traced out four stops along Line 1, from Yucai High School to Zhou Guo’s house, covering the places where all the victims died.

The realization hit me hard. My phone buzzed; Gu Chen and Xiao Liu had replied, but Guan Zengbin hadn’t. Maybe something had happened—maybe Zhou Guo had found Guan Zengbin and silenced him.

I called Guan Zengbin in a panic. No answer.

“Call Zhou Guo, hurry!” I urged Zhang Xue.

She saw the look on my face and didn’t hesitate. She called Zhou Guo—no answer.

“Wait at home. I’ll handle your father,” I told Zhang Xue and rushed out.

As I sprinted out, I sent a group message to Xiao Liu and Gu Chen: “Xiao Liu, call my contact. Gu Chen, get over there now. Guan Zengbin might be in danger. The address is 47 West Anning Street, single-story house. Zhou Guo lives there.”

Not only Li Taida or Zhao Erming had a chance to get their hands on potassium cyanide. Zhou Guo was actually the first to steal it. If he lied about how much he took, the others would never know how much there really was—only what Zhou Guo said.

And Zhou Guo once tutored biology at Gao Rui’s house and was friends with him. If Gao Rui wanted to confide in someone before he died, Zhou Guo would be the one—he’d never tell anyone else.

Li Taida and Zhao Erming were barely getting by in school. They probably never listened in chemistry class and might not even know what potassium cyanide is, or that it’s deadly. Maybe Zhou Guo, sounding casual, told Zhao Erming, who then told Li Taida.

But something doesn’t add up. Would Zhou Guo really let Li Taida poison his own father? Li Taida was his best friend—would he go that far?

I quickly dialed Li Xian. “Li Xian, do you remember me?”

There was a pause. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re my son’s teacher or something, right? Didn’t he get arrested? Tried to poison me, but luckily someone called me away that day. Saved my life in the nick of time.”

“Who called you away?” I asked urgently.

Li Xian sounded annoyed. “A friend. He used to be dirt poor, but for some reason hit the jackpot, won sixteen million in the lottery. No clue what strange luck he ran into.”

“So he—”

Before I could finish, Li Xian cut me off. “Enough, I’m hanging up. My son’s life is his own. That’s all.”

He hung up before I could say anything else. I couldn’t help cursing.

I got on the subway, feeling the train slice through the city. Zhang Xue’s house was close to Line 1 too, but even so, it’d take at least an hour to get there at top speed.

My phone vibrated—Gu Chen was calling. I answered to hear his labored breathing. “I’m at the address you gave me. When I walked in, both Guan Zengbin and that Zhou Guo kid were lying quietly on the bed. Neither of them’s moving a muscle…”