On the balcony of the apartment sat a pot of lily-of-the-valley. A few thin green stems held up tiny white flowers shaped like little lanterns. When the wind blew, the lantern blooms swayed gently, as if one could hear the crisp, pleasant “ding-ling,” “ding-ling” sound.
Who could have guessed that such pitifully lovely flowers were all poisonous, with a toxicity strong enough to kill?
Luo Sui used to love lily-of-the-valley very much, but at some point she began to avoid it, to loathe it. The pretty flowers that had once stood on the balcony somehow began to bear fruit. Then the blossoms withered and turned into bell-shaped things, and those strings of white flowers looked like the souls of the dead hanging from them—ghastly white, desolate white, like a summons to the soul calling Luo Sui’s gaze.
She threw that pot of lily-of-the-valley away.
She packed it into a bag with her own hands and threw it into the trash bin with her own hands. When the bag split as she tossed it out, the still-bright flowers spilled out, lying there like they had died with their eyes open, then entered Luo Sui’s dreams.
Reality seeped into the dream.
Once again jolted awake in the middle of the night, Luo Sui stared wide-eyed at the pitch-black ceiling, flickering with static.
As she stared, a deeper darkness emerged out of the blackness.
It was the flower’s shadow.
The shadow of the flower stood quietly on the ceiling.
Just like the person she had killed.
I did a bad thing. A very, very bad thing.
Something so bad that if anyone found out, she would never be forgiven.
She shivered under the blanket, closed her eyes, slowly curled into herself, and shrank inward, feeling the tears nearly overflowing beneath her shut eyelids… just like her heart, which was nearly swallowed by darkness.
Keeping a secret was like holding a bundle of thorns.
Perhaps the tormented Luo Sui couldn’t resist the urge to confess, or perhaps A’Kun saw something through her forced smile and tested, teased, and lured it out of her.
A’Kun learned her secret.
The eyes that had been peering at her from the darkness solidified into reality, settling into A’Kun’s gaze. The ghostly flower shadow also drifted down from the ceiling and silently came to rest beside A’Kun.
It smiled faintly, smiling with A’Kun as it watched her.
Luo Sui trembled uncontrollably.
The secret that would absolutely never be forgiven had been discovered. By A’Kun, by this man who had rescued her, cared for her, and in a very short time had become unexpectedly close to her—the only friend she had besides colleagues, the only person she could share part of her life with…
A’Kun knew it—
Knew it, knew it, knew it—
Knew it—
“Kinds of know—”
“Luo Sui,” A’Kun called her.
They were in the swimming pool of the hotel villa.
The villa was built on a hillside, remote and hard to reach. As far as the eye could see, besides the endless pool beneath them, there was only lush forest. They lay on two single inflatable loungers, floating over the pool and bathing in the sunlight.
The sunlight reflected on the water, shimmering and rippling below them. In weather like this—bright sun, quiet mountains and woods—one would normally feel comfortable and open. But A’Kun beside her looked listless, as if dizzy and faint.
Luo Sui knew why.
A’Kun had told her early on that he was afraid of water. The moment he touched water, he would feel dizzy and unable to move, even developing severe seasickness-like symptoms. He had gone to the hospital, but after a pile of professional jargon and a pile of medicine, nothing helped.
If he got seasick, why still go to the pool and lie on an inflatable mattress? Luo Sui had asked him.
Because human survival depends on water. A’Kun had answered her like that. Then he smiled and told her: I’m a grown man going out alone with you, so it’s only right to choose a place where I don’t have much fighting power, so you can feel at ease, right?
When he said that, Luo Sui had burst out laughing.
So funny, she had teased him.
Actually, A’Kun had never seemed threatening in Luo Sui’s eyes. From the moment he lifted the lid that covered her, pulled her out from where she had hidden crying inside, this man had become incredibly kind in her eyes. She couldn’t raise any guard against him.
…It should have been like that.
Luo Sui looked at A’Kun again. A cloud covered the sun, and the shadow it cast became a patch of gloom inside her heart.
But A’Kun knew her secret.
What would A’Kun do?
Would A’Kun keep her secret? Would he distance himself because of it? Would he expose it? Would he use it to blackmail her?
Questions came one after another through Luo Sui’s mind. She looked at it again.
The shadow of the flower.
It drifted over the water, climbed onto the inflatable lounger, and finally attached itself to A’Kun. A’Kun smiled at her again.
Luo Sui was horrified.
She had clearly killed it and thrown it away, yet it had begun to appear everywhere. As if once it had shed the form of life, it had become invincible.
“Luo Sui,” A’Kun called her. “You seem a little absent-minded.”
“I… I’m not. I’m fine.”
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“I don’t!” Luo Sui denied it.
“Is that so? But I have something to tell you,” A’Kun said.
“What…?”
“I saw it,” A’Kun said calmly.
Luo Sui looked at A’Kun in confusion.
He still wore a smile on his face. That smile—that terrifying smile—was not her illusion.
In a pitiful, compassionate tone, A’Kun said to her: “I saw everything you did. Luo Sui, I know all your sins. I know you’re afraid this thing will be discovered… but it was never a secret known only to you.”
No.
No, no, no, no, no—
An evil that would absolutely never be forgiven—an evil that would absolutely never be forgiven—
The woman who had crossed the boundary of sin raised her hand again. In it she held a small, silver, sharp knife. The knife had always been hidden on her body, just like the darkness cast by that cloud, never leaving her heart.
She lifted her hand and stabbed hard, piercing A’Kun’s inflatable lounger. With the air gone, it could no longer bear the weight of a human body, and A’Kun fell into the water without even putting up a decent struggle.
A’Kun had lightly revealed his weakness to her, and she used that weakness to murder him just as easily.
As long as A’Kun died…
This secret would once again be a secret. A secret known only to me.
The blue-green water separated the two of them between the surface and the depths. A string of bubbles, each representing the final echo of life, kept rising and bursting on the surface.
Luo Sui stared at the water for dozens of seconds, dazed and lost. She didn’t know what she was thinking. She only knew that three images kept repeating over and over in her mind: the shadow of the flower, her own crying self, and A’Kun opening the lid.
Finally, her hand slipped off the lounger and she, too, toppled into the water.
She saved A’Kun and performed CPR on him.
At last, she brought him back.
Coughing, A’Kun raised a hand. She waited for that wet hand to slap her face, to sweep away everything she had struggled so hard to obtain and fling her into the terrifying shadow of that flower… but instead the hand gently touched her face, the rough palm rubbing against her cheek.
Through tears, she looked up in shock and saw A’Kun’s gentle face.
A’Kun, who had narrowly escaped death, said: “Silly girl, I don’t blame you. I never blame you. No matter what you do, I won’t blame you.”
The flower’s shadow, which had been trying to strangle her with fear, dissolved together with that understanding gaze in A’Kun’s eyes.
She threw herself into A’Kun’s arms and cried her heart out.
The evidence was conclusive. All that remained was to arrest the suspect.
After Zhao Wu confirmed that the “Old Hu” in the hospital was not the real Old Hu, he immediately prepared to arrest Luo Sui for interrogation. But something went wrong with the arrest process.
They couldn’t find Luo Sui.
They first went to the home in Qin City registered under Luo Sui’s parents’ names. They knocked for a long time, but no one opened the door. Zhao Wu directly forced it open—and there was still no one inside.
It was a three-bedroom, one-living-room apartment. There were still plenty of clothes in the wardrobe. In the living room sat a red suitcase half-packed, a computer on the coffee table, and beside the computer, a brown leather notebook.
Zhao Wu quickly scanned the living room and went deeper inside.
The master bedroom looked like it was used by Luo Sui’s parents. The furniture and bedding were all in a more mature style, but it seemed no one had entered for a long time. Everything was covered with transparent plastic covers. When they lifted the covers and opened the cabinets, there was only a little clothing and accessories inside, with no other personal belongings left behind.
After checking the master bedroom, Ji Xun went to the south-facing room.
The layout of the apartment wasn’t particularly good. There were three rooms: the master bedroom and one side room faced south, while the other side room faced north. He chose the second south-facing room, thinking it should have been Luo Sui’s room. But when he opened the door, the room was completely empty, with no furniture at all.
Luo Sui didn’t live in this room?
Ji Xun froze, then turned to look at the third bedroom facing north. This time he found Luo Sui’s room. Besides the bed and wardrobe, there was a small vanity table next to the balcony. On it sat some branded perfumes and skincare and makeup products. Looking farther out, there were several empty flowerpots on the balcony—perhaps Luo Sui had once kept flowers there, but later gave up.
As usual, after Zhao Wu and the others had inspected it, Ji Xun opened the wardrobe, opened the drawers, and looked around a couple of times.
He didn’t touch much. After a brief look, he returned to the living room and stood by Huo Ran.
Huo Ran asked him, “Anything inside?”
Ji Xun: “Mm, nothing.”
Huo Ran understood immediately. “Mm.”
But Huo Team had understood, while someone else hadn’t. The deputy captain couldn’t help asking, “What do you mean, nothing? Are you two solving cases by riddles? One person says a riddle, and the other instantly knows the answer?”
Ji Xun smiled, raised his chin, and pointed at the hooks on the white wall. “He and I were talking about the photos. This is Luo Sui’s parents’ home. Why is there not a single photo of the parents and daughter in the whole house? No albums, and there are obvious marks on the wall where picture hooks used to hang…”
“I checked last night,” Zhao Wu said from the side. “Luo Sui’s parents were sent abroad on government assignment to Africa when they were young, and they were separated from their daughter for a long time. Maybe the daughter harbored resentment about being left behind, so she deliberately destroyed the photos in the house.”
“That explanation does make sense,” Ji Xun nodded.
“Alright, let’s leave the house like this for now and go to where she works to keep looking.”
The police filed out one after another. Ji Xun walked last. As he left, he turned back and looked at the living room; the three nails were still on the white wall, emitting a cold metallic chill.
