When it came to the level of bizarreness and mystery, no other cold case from ten years ago could compare to that particular one.
Su Xiaolan provided an objective evaluation: “Lately, there have indeed been a lot of news reports dragging that old case back into the spotlight to compare it with Shen Xinghe, but there’s still a massive difference between the two, isn’t there?”
They had all been following the recent news, so naturally, they hadn’t missed this trending topic. Ever since the Shen Xinghe case broke out, countless video content creators and journalists had been recycling this old material. The words “ten years ago” now felt exceptionally distant, carrying a dangerous and archaic allure.
Discussing cases was second nature to police officers.
“But that case really was quite bizarre,” Su Xiaolan continued. “What on earth did the killer mean in court when he said, ‘You can’t kill me’?”
Even though it was a case that had already concluded and the perpetrator had been executed, it still managed to spark endless public speculation.
“I watched that news report too, and for some reason, Bin-ge is highly focused on it,” Ji Mingrui said, tossing the car keys to Jiang Yu, who hadn’t been drinking. “A couple of times when I went to his office, he was looking into that case… Anyway, a lot of people support the theory that the killer didn’t actually die. They’ve analyzed all sorts of random details, claiming the Bureau just arrested a random scapegoat back then just to close the case as quickly as possible.”
“I don’t care all that much about the killer myself. What I think is most intriguing about this case is that its specific details have never been made public. You can’t find any information on the internet either. No one knows what the serial kidnapper actually did to those children after taking them, and even the exact number of survivors is classified.”
Ten years ago, did any children actually make it out alive from that mysterious case?
Chi Qing had originally intended to kick everyone out, though his reason for wanting them gone was slightly different from Xie Lin’s—he simply found having too many people around overwhelming.
Yet, caught completely off guard by this topic, his thoughts drifted far away. By the time he snapped out of it, the guests had already dispersed.
“What are you spacing out for? Just now, Officer Ji almost spilled beer on the carpet and you didn’t even notice,” Xie Lin said while clearing the dining table. After finishing, he snapped his fingers in front of Chi Qing’s face. “Earth to Chi Qing.”
Chi Qing: “Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
Xie Lin teased, “Oh? Thinking about which little lover of yours?”
“…”
This man was starting up again.
With a face like his, Xie Lin was actually ill-suited to say things that could only be uttered from the standpoint of a “victim.” After all, he looked much more like the one who would love someone and leave them: “Now that we’re together, you don’t cherish me anymore. You’re looking at me but thinking of someone else.”
Chi Qing: “…Act normal.”
Xie Lin finished clearing the table and put away the cutlery they had just used for the fruit. Turning the tip of a knife toward himself, he arched an eyebrow and let out: “You’re telling me to act normal? Do you think I’m making a scene out of nothing?”
Chi Qing was no match for his verbal sparring.
“Aside from you, I can’t even touch anyone,” Chi Qing raised his eyes to look at him and said. “What little lover could I possibly have?”
Xie Lin was only messing with him. Hearing this, he let out a low chuckle and said, “So you’re stuck making do with me for the rest of your life.”
After spraying the floor and the sofa with disinfectant all over again, Chi Qing went to take another shower.
Amidst the swirling, dense steam, he closed his eyes. Though everything was pitch black before him, the scene of the courtroom trial materialized once more. Amidst a chaotic din of voices, he heard that sentence again.
That nightmare-like sentence.
Chi Qing abruptly snapped his eyes open. Without even drying his hair, he walked out of the bathroom barefoot.
Before he could take more than a few steps, he was firmly pressed back by Xie Lin.
He heard a somewhat helpless inner voice:
[You didn’t dry it again.]
Chi Qing’s hair was soaking wet, completely veiling his eyes and leaving his vision momentarily dark as Xie Lin guided him onto the edge of the bed.
Although Xie Lin didn’t say a single word out loud, because Chi Qing had secretly pressed the knuckle of his pinky finger against the back of Xie Lin’s free hand, the voice belonging to Xie Lin in his ears hadn’t stopped for a second.
[Don’t you know it’s easy to get sick?]
[Are you trying to make me mad on purpose?]
[Or have you just figured out that I don’t have the heart to lose my temper with you?]
[…]
Xie Lin hadn’t noticed Chi Qing’s hand. He was still grumbling internally when he heard Chi Qing say, “Are you angry? I didn’t mean to. I just accidentally forgot just now.”
Xie Lin switched off the hair dryer and casually ruffled Chi Qing’s hair. “I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.”
“So, can you tell me now what you’ve been so distracted by ever since dinner… what exactly have you been thinking about?”
Chi Qing didn’t know how to put it into words.
Should he say that he was a survivor of that very cold case they were discussing at the dinner table? That because he was involved in that case, he unexpectedly gained the ability to read minds upon waking up in the hospital?
He didn’t know where to begin, but it seemed he had never given Xie Lin an explanation.
“I’m thinking about my secret,” Chi Qing said.
“I’ve never told anyone else. You’re the first. Do you want to hear it?”
The church had already been reduced to a charred, black ruin.
As night fell, there were still pedestrians passing by the vicinity, unable to resist stopping to look at the blackened structure melting into the darkness.
“To be burned to this extent…” a pedestrian lamented while taking a night stroll.
The speaker hadn’t expected his muttered words to receive a response, but someone behind him spoke up: “…What a pity.”
The pedestrian turned his head around.
He saw a row of benches lined up along the street’s green belt, their armrests designed with hollowed-out patterns for pedestrians to rest on when tired from walking in the nearby park.
The night was too dark, and that row of benches happened to be obscured by the shadows of the drooping foliage, making it almost impossible to perceive that someone was sitting there. It wasn’t until he spoke that the pedestrian clearly saw the man’s figure.
Devoid of any caution, the pedestrian said, “Yeah, it really is a pity.”
The two unexpectedly struck up a casual conversation.
“Do you come here often?” the pedestrian asked.
“Occasionally,” the man replied. “Depends on my mood.”
The pedestrian couldn’t quite fathom the meaning behind this “occasionally.”
“The sky has turned dark,” the man added.
The man’s venomous, snake-like eyes stared straight at the pedestrian, and he finally asked a very bizarre question: “Is your home far from here?”
For no apparent reason, a chill ran down the pedestrian’s spine. It felt as though he were being ensnared by something sinister. “If I’m heading back, it takes about thirty minutes… Why do you ask?”
The man smiled. His hands had been buried inside his pockets all along, and only now did he draw one out. The pedestrian caught a glimpse of a silver glint flashing in his grip: “That’s so far. Why don’t you just not go back at all?”
The clock hand pointed to 12 o’clock.
Xie Lin rested his chin on Chi Qing’s head. Chi Qing’s hair had been left messy by the hair dryer, and his pupils were darker than the night sky. At this moment, he was staring unblinkingly at the collar of Xie Lin’s shirt. Only after a long while did he open his mouth to speak: “In the past… I went through a certain case.”
Chi Qing added, “That was ten years ago.”
Xie Lin said, “Ten years ago, I also went through a case.”
Xie Lin didn’t find this surprising. For things like being involved in a case to happen to him and Chi Qing was practically a daily occurrence. Even now, they were constantly appearing in major cases through all sorts of entry points. Or rather, without having experienced such things, they wouldn’t have developed these kinds of personalities in the first place.
Xie Lin continued, “This is also my secret. I’ve never told anyone else about it. Do you want to hear it?”
As they spoke, they remained in an embrace, lying down together.
Tonight’s darkness was very similar to a certain night after a previous case was closed. In this dangerous and intensely intimate night, they were preparing to “exchange” one another in a different way.
At first, Xie Lin could still make a few joking remarks like, “You were kidnapped too?” and “What a coincidence, our case dates are exactly the same.” But the moment that familiar date slipped from Chi Qing’s lips, the hand resting on Chi Qing’s head froze.
At the exact moment his hand stilled, Chi Qing was also stunned.
The two spoke in perfect unison:
“Your house passcode is also that date.”
“No wonder that was your reaction the first time you heard the code.”
Neither Xie Lin nor Chi Qing was foolish. So many signs pointed to the most miraculous and unbelievable answer.
Ten years ago.
All the captured children were paired up in couples and locked inside different rooms. Those rooms had no windows, resembling concrete coffins. There was only a single door at the front, secured with a heavy iron chain. A food bowl would be placed by the door, along with another container meant for waste.
“That person” would carry a long iron chain every day, walking slowly from the far end of the corridor.
As he passed the rooms on either side, he would occasionally halt his steps and randomly push open a door to perform an inspection.
At the beginning, these children could still maintain their composure, but as the duration spent within the claustrophobic space dragged on, some children began to find it impossible to suppress their screams.
“Ah—” A scream, like a boiling kettle, pierced out from a narrow spout.
That demon-like man suddenly stopped in his tracks and asked, “Who’s shouting?”
The roommate of that child spoke in a trembling voice, “Don’t scream, don’t make a sound, don’t let him hear you, he’ll come over.”
Afterward, that “ah” dissolved into a heavily muffled sound, presumably because someone had covered their mouth. But even with the mouth covered, there was no way to completely mask that sharp cry from just now.
“Which child is being so disobedient?”
The footsteps that had originally been receding turned back.
The echoes along the long corridor sounded incredibly distinct—the sound of footsteps and the friction of the iron chain scraping against the concrete floor mingled together.
The footsteps abruptly stopped right in front of a certain room. The man suddenly pushed open that iron door, thrusting his horrifying face into the gap, and asked ominously, “Is it you guys?”
The corner Chi Qing was sitting in at the time happened to face the door directly. With his back pressed against the wall, his gaze looked toward the door—this was the safest position.
But precisely because of this, he was left with no way to avoid locking eyes with that face.
The arrangement of the features on that face was exceptionally grotesque—triangular eyes with far too much sclera showing, and a face marred with deep lines and ridges. Because it wasn’t convenient for him to go outside often, his hair was a tangled mess, and his beard hadn’t been shaved in a long time.
He flashed a sinister smile at Chi Qing: “Let me hear you make a sound.”
How could Chi Qing not be terrified back then? His fingernails dug deep into his palms, his face cold, his voice completely devoid of any inflection: “Ah.”
The man stared intently for a short while, then straightened his posture and shook his head: “Not you.”
Then, he continued walking forward.
Those bleak days that Chi Qing rarely ever allowed himself to recall—within the endless dark and the multiple rooms devoid of any light—it turned out that they had already crossed paths in the darkness, separated only by a concrete wall.
