The next morning, Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin arrived at Qi Yuan’s home. He rented a small, forty-square-meter apartment near the Capital University. He had received an excellent offer from an overseas university, had interned for a while, and was scheduled to officially leave the country after his thesis defense in April.
The small living room and balcony of the apartment were cluttered with various packing boxes.
Qi Yuan, standing in the middle, spoke to them with a hint of embarrassment: “I’ve been preparing to go abroad lately, so everything needs sorting. It’s a bit messy, please don’t mind it. Would you like something to drink? I can pour you a glass of water.”
“No need, please continue packing,” Ji Xun replied.
Perhaps a home belonging to a highly educated person is never short of books. Many of these had already been packed, but the ones frequently used on his desk remained.
Huo Ranyin briefly explained the reason for their visit and asked for his thoughts on Mo Nai.
Qi Yuan’s answer was unremarkable—he was somewhat surprised, said he wasn’t very familiar with Mo Nai, and that his sister’s death was a sudden incident he hadn’t quite figured out, and so on.
While Ji Xun’s gaze darted repeatedly toward the stacks of cardboard boxes, Huo Ranyin, very openly and matter-of-factly, casually searched the desk.
He pulled out a copy of Daddy-Long-Legs. This novel seemed out of place among the pile of large, specialized technical books.
“You read novels in your spare time?”
“Ah—wait…” Qi Yuan grew nervous, with a trace of shyness.
Huo Ranyin soon understood the reason for his reaction. Tucked inside the book was a photo of a short-haired girl smiling brightly, leaning against a cherry blossom tree.
Qi Yuan’s file indicated he wasn’t married, so this was likely his girlfriend or a secret crush.
Intruding on someone’s private romantic life, even for a police officer, felt somewhat tactless. Huo Ranyin was about to apologize and cover up the action, but as he took a second look at the girl, his eyes narrowed, and his expression turned serious.
Ji Xun wouldn’t miss such an obvious reaction, and he leaned in closer.
“Isn’t that Yu Yu?”
Yu Yu, Song Tingfeng’s other roommate, unlike Cheng Xiang who had a history as Mo Nai’s ex-girlfriend, had seemed quite insignificant throughout the entire case.
Yet, she knew Qi Yuan—this connection was truly unexpected.
Qi Yuan looked as confused as they did: “How do you know her name is Yu Yu? Does she have anything to do with my sister’s death? I only met A-Yu after my sister died.”
Ji Xun asked, “How did you and Yu Yu meet?”
Qi Yuan scratched his head: “On October 10th, 2007, my dad was dismissed from the construction site because of my sister’s case. He was preparing to pack up and return to our hometown. I also couldn’t keep freeloading on classes at Liucheng University. That day was my last time going to the study room to collect my things, and I felt really sad knowing I couldn’t come back. Sister A-Yu came over and comforted me. Afterward, she added my contact information. She tutored me for free in her spare time, saying she was preparing for the graduate entrance exam herself and reviewing the material would help solidify her knowledge. She even helped me pay for my university tuition, saying I could work part-time to pay her back once I started school.”
It sounded like a story of a kind person supporting a promising student.
However, Yu Yu had clearly been accepted for a postgraduate spot but lied about studying for the entrance exam. Interesting, Ji Xun thought. “She was so kind to you that you developed a secret crush, but you didn’t dare confess. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be secretly tucking a solo photo of her in a book; if you’d successfully courted her, you’d have stacks of couple photos.”
“Uh…”
Ji Xun continued the casual probing: “Your decision to go abroad is also to follow her, isn’t it? Yu Yu left the country quite a while ago.”
Qi Yuan said sheepishly, “I wouldn’t say I’m following her. Sister A-Yu helped a lot with this offer, too; she wrote many recommendation letters for me.”
Huo Ranyin interjected: “Have you heard about a female university student who jumped off a building at Liucheng University nine years ago?”
Qi Yuan shook his head: “I heard bits and pieces. I know Mo Nai was arrested because of it, but nothing else. My sister had just died then, and I wasn’t in a state to care about these things. I only heard about Mo Nai’s situation because he didn’t attend my sister’s funeral, and I heard it from others.”
Not knowing who had jumped meant he didn’t know Yu Yu was the deceased’s roommate, which seemed to align with the detail of him not knowing she had a guaranteed postgraduate spot.
Huo Ranyin: “Did you notify Mo Nai about the funeral?”
“Yes, my sister passed away on September 20th. On the 21st, I sent the funeral information to everyone who had contact with her. Mo Nai was quite high up on the list, so I remember him.”
The 21st. Mo Nai was arrested on the 22nd. This timing was also intriguing.
Ji Xun shifted his gaze away from Qi Yuan and back to the immense pile of cardboard boxes. A witness who had run out of questioning value was no match for a large stack of yet-to-be-searched evidence.
But the commotion of going through them would be considerable. Some of Qi Yuan’s boxes were stacked five or six layers high.
Ji Xun rubbed his head, turned his face, and bit his lip, giving Huo Ranyin a helpless, pitiable look.
Huo Ranyin sighed: “Your sister’s belongings are in these boxes, too, aren’t they?” This was stated as a certainty. Near the balcony, an unsealed box contained a pink plush toy, clearly not Qi Yuan’s style.
“Oh, right, I’ll help you find them.”
Soon, two small boxes that had been pressed deep underneath were pulled out by Qi Yuan. One was full of clothes, and the other contained handicrafts, diaries, and the like.
His goal achieved, Ji Xun felt satisfied. While Qi Yuan, with his back to them, was pulling things out, Ji Xun blew a kiss to Huo Ranyin. Then, his sharp eyes quickly spotted something distinct among the colorful, mostly cheap and rustic-looking clothes.
It was a light blue chiffon dress. A ribbon of the same color ran diagonally from the right shoulder, tied into a large bow at the left side of the waist. The design was delicate, the cut was fitted—it was an evening dress that immediately struck one as being quite expensive.
Ji Xun pulled the dress out.
“This dress is very beautiful,” Ji Xun casually praised. “Was it a gift from your mother for your sister’s 18th birthday?”
Qi Meng was exactly 18 the year she died.
Qi Yuan gave an awkward smile: “We actually celebrated birthdays according to the lunar calendar, so when my sister jumped, she hadn’t had her adult birthday yet, and thus there was no gift.”
A lot of time had passed. After his sister’s death, Qi Yuan had also experienced the successive loss of his parents. Talking about this past now, there was no obvious grief on his face; he spoke of it as an ordinary memory.
“Then this dress?”
“I don’t really know. I just saw this dress in my sister’s room. When I first found it, it was stuffed in a box under the bed. As far as I can recall, I never saw my sister wear this dress…” Qi Yuan wasn’t sure. Men typically didn’t pay close attention to women’s clothing; even his sister, whom he lived with every day, he couldn’t recall what she wore or didn’t wear. But he offered a suggestion.
“Our family couldn’t afford such an expensive piece back then. Maybe someone else gave it to her.”
Ji Xun made a sound of acknowledgment and didn’t press further.
Huo Ranyin, however, said, “If you don’t mind, could you temporarily hand this dress over to us for evidence registration?”
The high-speed train slowly started. The industrial, smog-filled city disappeared behind the train. Huo Ranyin closed his phone, which he hadn’t put down since leaving Qi Yuan’s house.
He summarized the information succinctly: “Yu Yu comes from an ordinary family. Her grades in school weren’t as good as Song Tingfeng’s. The counselor believed her chances of passing the graduate entrance exam were fifty-fifty.”
“But Yu Yu successfully secured a guaranteed postgraduate spot and later studied abroad,” Ji Xun continued. “For a girl from an ordinary family with ordinary grades, this path was unexpectedly smooth.”
They were in the business class carriage for the return journey.
Ji Xun had bought the tickets, choosing the window seat for himself. As he spoke, his head was turned towards the window, his gaze fixed on the outside. The morning light filled his eyes, coating the dark pupils and white sclera with a faint, golden film.
This film of light overlaid any human emotion, revealing only the ceaselessly retreating buildings and the endlessly approaching mountains and rivers.
“Have you figured it out?” Huo Ranyin asked.
“It’s more or less connecting now.”
“Tell me about it,” Huo Ranyin said. “It’s a good time, there’s no one else here.”
The carriage was indeed empty. Money afforded many things, such as privacy and comfort. Thus, everyone strove, like worker ants, busy and bustling for more money, for more enjoyment.
“When you received the news of Mo Nai’s prison break, he was already on the highway?” Ji Xun abruptly asked a seemingly irrelevant question.
Huo Ranyin frowned slightly, thinking for a moment: “Yes, that’s right. He abandoned the car on the Liukun section of the road.”
“Since the start of this case, we’ve been constantly running around, almost living a road movie. We might as well end it on the road, too. From a novel’s perspective, it brings things full circle,” Ji Xun said. “Where should I start…”
“Start with the dress that might have belonged to Cheng Xiang,” Huo Ranyin suggested.
Ji Xun smiled: “You’re always knowledgeable about clothes and accessories. It’s true, Cheng Xiang looks largely unchanged from her old photos, so her size would match that dress. And yes, the fingerprints the police took back then were on her wardrobe. Why would a r*pist take clothes? Based on Song’s testimony, it’s easy to misunderstand that the clothes were used to cover her eyes, but in reality…”
“The clothes are the reason Mo Nai showed up there,” Huo Ranyin said, pausing before adding, “That’s my guess for you, keep going.”
“You’re a bit cunning, making me state this rather cruel story even though you’ve guessed it too.” Ji Xun sighed, then simply leaned his body against Huo Ranyin’s shoulder. He made no further movements, lowered his eyelids, and began his lengthy discourse.
“The construction site was separated from the girls’ dormitory by just one wall. Nine years ago, there wasn’t even a wall, only a simple fence. On September 15th, Qi Meng was r*ped on the construction site. Her clothes were probably ruined. Mo Nai, who witnessed or participated in the act, thought of Cheng Xiang, who was roughly the same size as Qi Meng. The dormitory was close, and he was familiar with it, so he wanted to grab a piece of clothing from Cheng Xiang’s wardrobe to cover Qi Meng. He came with another person, or that person followed him. He took the clothes and left, being seen by a classmate, while the other person stayed behind and r*ped Song Tingfeng.
“Qi Meng was deaf and mute. It’s clear her parents and younger brother didn’t pay much attention to her either. She couldn’t tell her family about the r*pe. The immense pain bottled up inside her, and with nowhere to turn, she jumped to her death on September 20th.”
Ji Xun paused, his voice softening, as if afraid to disturb the person who had long since vanished:
“They say life has no worries except death. Yet, she died without a sound.”
He continued his statement:
“Mo Nai learned of her death on the 21st. Knowing that this series of events he participated in led to the girl’s death, he felt profound guilt. Therefore, when the police arrested him for another r*pe case, he didn’t resist at all. He knew he deserved the punishment.
“The story of that night is roughly like this. But if it were just that, it wouldn’t explain why Yu Yu contacted Qi Yuan. So, I have to make a bold conjecture: Yu Yu knew the truth of that night, knew that Qi Meng was also a victim, and out of compensation, she had been secretly funding Qi Yuan.
“But it was Song Tingfeng who was r*ped, Song Tingfeng who first thought of destroying the evidence, and Cheng Xiang who acted on it and made the false testimony. Why should Yu Yu feel such guilt? And how did she learn the truth?
“Cheng Xiang is still so adamant that Mo Nai is the r*pist, meaning Mo Nai didn’t speak the truth. So, the truth could only have been revealed by the real r*pist.
“But similarly, even if the r*pist bragged to Song Tingfeng, the victim, there’s no reason for him to tell Yu Yu, the bystander! I recall the evidence file we examined together. Song Tingfeng’s suicide note was very narrow, as if torn from a piece of homework. We all felt it was a bit too casual for a suicide note…”
This was the second sigh Ji Xun let out while narrating this deduction.
“But if it truly was torn from something, say, a complete suicide note that narrated the entire sequence of events, then it wouldn’t be casual at all.”
Huo Ranyin had an excellent memory. He quietly recited Song Tingfeng’s remaining last words: “I’m sorry, I can’t stand myself.”
“Yes, what she couldn’t stand could be a body that felt unclean after the r*pe, or it could be knowing the truth, wrongly sending Mo Nai to prison, and most importantly, forging evidence to convict him while exonerating someone else. That person likely also participated in r*ping Qi Meng, and it’s highly possible that if she hadn’t lied, Qi Meng’s death could have been fully investigated. Song Tingfeng couldn’t bear this truth. She returned from recovering at home; Mo Nai was already in jail, Qi Meng was dead, and she and her roommate had been promised guaranteed postgraduate spots by the university. At this point, the real r*pist runs over to her and brags about the truth… Song Tingfeng would have been completely unprepared when she was told all this and couldn’t secure evidence in time—like a recording or video. After all, she had already decided that Mo Nai, the murderer’s son, was the bad guy, so why would she guard against anyone else? In the end, it’s not strange that she was overcome by her own moral conscience and jumped to her death.
“As for Yu Yu, her reason for tearing up Song Tingfeng’s suicide note is so simple and direct it requires no deduction: The graduate entrance exam was a 50/50 chance for her, and the guaranteed postgraduate spot was extremely important. Life is hard. She wasn’t rich like Cheng Xiang, nor was she as academically gifted as Song Tingfeng. When she saw her roommate’s suicide note and learned the whole story, she tore off the latter half, concealing the truth because she didn’t want to lose the hard-won opportunity.
“In fact, Song Tingfeng and Qi Meng were both dead then, and the evidence was gone. Telling the truth would at most free Mo Nai from prison but still wouldn’t punish the real culprit. Yu Yu’s mindset was probably similar to a part of Cheng Xiang’s: Song Tingfeng died, so someone had to pay the price, right? Otherwise, would her death just be forgotten? Afterwards, her conscience couldn’t bear the tragedy of Qi Meng’s family, so she funded Qi Yuan, tutored him for free, and loaned him money for school.”
Huo Ranyin: “Qi Meng was always very kind to Mo Nai. Your deduction hasn’t explained why he would participate in r*ping Qi Meng for no reason.”
“The food stall owner was right; he was somewhat vain back then. Vanity makes people unrecognizable. He had just broken up with Cheng Xiang and was desperately trying to win her back. Those ‘friends’ who ‘helped’ him—by concealing his identity and lending him student ID cards—were spewing thoughtless, idiotic suggestions that could supposedly help him get Cheng Xiang back. Someone like Qi Meng, a girl he had previously ignored, could easily become the condition. Plus, Qi Meng was deaf and mute; she couldn’t speak clearly, so there was less worry about things going wrong—this condition sounds ridiculous, but the Mo Nai of that time had nothing, which made him even more desperate to hold onto Cheng Xiang, didn’t it?”
“You’ve placed the blame squarely on those three people.”
“I am being assertive, as all of this is only conjecture. After so many years, it would be difficult to extract any concrete physical evidence from that dress.”
“We can show it to Mo Nai.”
“Hmm… That’s true.”
“Mo Nai likely didn’t participate in the r*pe. He was mostly a bystander. But the bystander at that moment committed a sin as unforgivable as the r*pist.”
Ji Xun paused for a long time after saying this before continuing.
“He destroyed a girl who loved him. He personally pushed her into hell, he trampled on her love, and he took her life. The true killer of Qi Meng was Mo Nai. At the time of the r*pe, Mo Nai, as a bystander, was still in a fog. But after he learned Qi Meng had jumped, he finally understood. He is not unjustly serving these nine years in prison. Even with all the years he served, he can’t bring Qi Meng back to life, can’t atone for the sin he committed, and can’t bring the real r*pists to justice.”
A momentary greed brewed an unswallowable bitter fruit.
This truth of the past is now only known in the hearts of a few.
The pain of the past, the blood of the old days, eventually dissolves with the wind, vanishing into these mountains and ridges, vanishing into this city of steel.
