Ding Ju and Li Changsheng sat together, watching the scene inside through a one-way mirror. The surveillance and recording devices were turned off, so they didn’t know what Yu Xue and Zhao Chenghu were talking about. They only saw Yi Shi walk over silently, grab Zhao Chenghu by the hair, and hold a ballpoint pen, ready to stab down at any moment.
Ding Ju’s heart was pounding, and Li Changsheng, who had been sitting with his legs crossed, also dragged his chair forward. “What do you think this kid is planning to do?”
“Uh…he definitely won’t actually stab Zhao Chenghu in the eye,” Ding Ju replied.
“That’s for sure, and Zhao Chenghu isn’t afraid of dying; torture won’t work on him.”
Ding Ju asked with a tone of seeking guidance, “Then why do you think he’s trying to scare Zhao Chenghu like this?”
“Haven’t you already guessed it?” Li Changsheng curled his index finger and tapped the table. “He’s just trying to scare him.”
Yu Xue crossed his legs and leisurely flipped through some documents. “Dropped out of school at 12, went to juvenile detention at 15 for robbery, hey, got five years for intentional injury after you became an adult at 18. You behaved well in prison, were released at 22, went back in at 24 for **crime, and returned to society at 30. Your resume is quite impressive, huh? Is prison your home? Do you often come back to visit?”
Just as Zhao Chenghu was about to mouth “f*ck,” Yi Shi’s hand holding the ballpoint pen immediately slid down a centimeter. His expression remained unchanged, and his dark eyes showed no warning or threat, only indifference. It seemed as if stabbing through Zhao Chenghu’s eye was just another routine task for him.
Zhao Chenghu glared at him fiercely, swallowing the curse that was on the tip of his tongue.
Yu Xue turned another page, his tone relaxed and leisurely. If one only heard his voice, the scene in their mind would be of him lying on a recliner under the green shade of summer trees, fanning himself, and chatting with an old friend.
“Divorced family, mother remarried, father remarried, passing you around like a football; nobody wanted to take care of you, and your grandmother raised you. No wonder; the environment shapes a person. Your son doesn’t have these worries; anyway, you didn’t get a marriage certificate. Whoever his mom marries, it doesn’t matter.”
Hearing this damn cop mention his son, Zhao Chenghu wanted to curse again. Just as he opened his mouth, Yi Shi’s hand slid down five centimeters, the blue-ink-tipped ballpoint pen now right in front of his eye.
His hand was extremely steady, like that of a surgeon accustomed to holding a scalpel, and his arm was suspended in mid-air for several minutes without moving a fraction. He resembled a precise instrument, fully compliant with orders. Those eyes were scanners, detecting Zhao Chenghu’s mouth movements and immediately entering attack mode.
Combined with his stunningly beautiful face, staring at him for too long evoked a strange, demonic feeling. Zhao Chenghu’s arms gradually broke out in goosebumps. Yi Shi didn’t seem human; from his body, his eyes, and his expression, there was no warmth or emotion. This face looked more like a painting, and peeling off this mask would reveal dense chips and wires underneath.
He was unafraid of anything.
Li Changsheng poured himself a cup of hot water from the water dispenser and sat back down. Ding Ju was still puzzled. “Why does Captain Yu keep talking, and Zhao Chenghu hasn’t said a word? Isn’t he the type to curse like a machine gun?”
In the previous hour, Zhao Chenghu had been so aggressive that he cursed the ancestors of the two pre-trial officers to the eighteenth generation.
“He probably can’t speak,” Li Changsheng nodded, “Yi Shi’s ballpoint pen is right there. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, his eyeball will be gone.”
“Afraid?” Ding Ju was even more confused. “Didn’t you say torture doesn’t work on him?”
“Yeah, if it were real torture, Zhao Chenghu, being a tough guy, could endure it. At worst, he dies and drags a cop down with him, and he’d consider that a win.” Li Changsheng suddenly changed the topic, “Hey, have you ever seen a Japanese horror movie styled like a pseudo-documentary called ‘Death Portrait’?”
“死画像” (Pronounced “Shi Hua Xiang” in Mandarin Chinese) translates to “Death Portrait” or “Death Image” in English. It refers to a Japanese horror film released in 1988, known for its unique and unsettling portrayal of horror through a faux documentary style.
“Huh?” Ding Ju shook his head blankly and said, “No.”
“Then you should watch it. One of the stories, ‘Bangzi,’ has a three-minute-long blue screen buildup, showing a news segment. Each time the signal cuts out and refreshes, the girl’s expression in the news changes.”
“And then?”
“Ah, it’s hard to explain. You should just watch it on your phone now; we aren’t needed at the moment anyway.”
Ding Ju took out his phone, found the horror movie, and after watching “Bangzi,” he suddenly understood what Li Changsheng was trying to convey.
To be honest, the truly scary part was just that ghost face in the distorted signal, but what made people uncomfortable was the film’s atmosphere of terror. The static noise, the long blue screens, the rough, constantly shaking footage—all of it built tension, making the viewer hold their breath and stay alert, while the surrounding air gradually grew eerily chilly.
That period was the hardest to endure. Even after the ghost face flashed by, the long blue screen persisted, making it impossible to relax, always on guard for that terrifying news segment to reappear.
He looked up to see Zhao Chenghu’s eyes bulging, his triangular eyes wider than ever, focused on the ballpoint pen tip.
His chest heaved, his breathing visibly heavy and slow, and his hands clenched into fists, wary of the pen stabbing down.
Ding Ju’s eyes darted around. “So, if he just keeps quiet, wouldn’t that work?”
“With his fiery temper, explosive personality, have you ever heard him stay quiet after entering the interrogation room? Captain Yu must be saying something that’s making him suffocate with anger and frustration, splitting his attention with Yi Shi. His mind must be in chaos now.”
Zhao Chenghu was indeed thinking chaotically. Yu Xue was rambling, not discussing the case but harping on his life and family. Growing up without family warmth, he hated others bringing these up. He wanted to curse but couldn’t even open his mouth—as soon as his mouth moved, Yi Shi’s hand would move, inching closer, leaving little room for his eyeball.
A slow death by dull knife, his mental state remained highly strained. Many strange thoughts popped into his mind, and he even regretted agreeing to help Pang Daozi with his mother’s funeral in a fit of loyalty.
Pang Daozi still had four hostages and was planning to kidnap the children of wealthy people to demand getaway money. Once he got the money, he’d flee to Southeast Asia for a carefree life, while Zhao Chenghu would be tortured by these two damned cops!
And his son, whom he’d only seen once at birth, was almost ten now. He must look sturdy, right? That bitch was remarrying even though he wasn’t dead!
He should have strangled her back then and raised his son himself. After all, he had killed so many; one more wouldn’t matter…
“Zhao Chenghu!” Yu Xue suddenly stood up, slamming the folder on the table with a crisp “smack!” “Where is Pang Daozi?!”
Zhao Chenghu jumped, his heart pounding wildly, his mind blank, and he instinctively replied, “Cheng’an…”
Yi Shi’s hand quickly descended. Zhao Chenghu shuddered and hurriedly closed his eyes, his fists tightly clenched. His large body even trembled slightly, and his mind was filled with images of his eyes being pierced and bleeding.
A gust of wind brushed past his ear, and the ballpoint pen scratched his earlobe.
There was no expected pain, nothing happened. Zhao Chenghu slowly opened his eyes to see Yi Shi throwing the ballpoint pen away and calmly rolling down his sleeves.
Yu Xue immediately opened the door and called out, “Check where Cheng’an is, quickly!”
Li Changsheng jumped up, and Ding Ju opened the internal network. Moments later, he looked up and said, “It’s near Haijing! There’s a Cheng’an Mountain at the border with Dengchang!”
Zhao Chenghu stood there dumbfounded, his expression gradually becoming twisted with panic. What had he just said? Did he betray Pang Daozi?
“You damn cops, playing dirty tricks, making me betray my brother! If I ever get the chance, I’ll blow up the police station and make sure you all die horribly! Damn it…”
Yi Shi slowly picked up the pen that had fallen to the ground.
Zhao Chenghu glanced at it, his voice gradually lowering as he saw Yi Shi holding the ballpoint pen between his fingers, his eyes cold and his lips moving slightly.
Coward.
*
Zhao Chenghu was taken back, and Yu Xue had already communicated with the Haijing side. The hostages were most likely on Cheng’an Mountain, so they urgently set out to search. They would head over overnight.
It was already midnight when a van set off from Nanyi to Haijing. The driver was a team member who hadn’t been on duty tonight. The members of the criminal investigation team sat in their seats, the jolting of the van making them drowsy.
Yi Shi looked out the window as the streetlights flashed by. His pale, expressionless face was reflected in the glass like a traditional Japanese Noh mask.
A hand reached over, palm holding a candy.
“Eat it. You’ve been holding out with low blood sugar for so long, you must be exhausted,” Yu Xue said.
Yi Shi grabbed the candy, unwrapped the aluminum foil, and popped it into his mouth. After a while, he spoke, “Much better than before.”
Yu Xue smiled and said, “Don’t think I haven’t seen your medical report. You’re almost underweight. What do you eat every day?”
Yi Shi hesitated, unable to remember what he ate most often. He had little desire for food, just eating to fill his stomach without any particular likes or dislikes.
“Rice, eggs, meat, vegetables…” Yi Shi counted seriously, suddenly hearing Yu Xue burst into laughter and wave his hand, “Alright, alright, that’s too hard a question for you. I see you always eat in the cafeteria, never ordering takeout. Is the cafeteria food better than what Aunt Lin cooks?”
Yi Shi shook his head honestly. Aunt Lin was his foster mother. She had called him to come home for dinner last week, but since the explosion case, the team has been working overtime to catch the criminals. He hadn’t tasted Aunt Lin’s cooking for over half a month.
Yu Xue patted his shoulder twice and said, “It’s good to be dedicated, but you also need to consider your family’s feelings. Occasionally taking the initiative to call home isn’t a bad thing, right?”
Yi Shi nodded blankly. Yu Xue was a few years older than him but spoke like an elder, not only looking after him in the team but also frequently giving him life advice, as if worried he wouldn’t grow up.
The journey took nearly five hours. Almost everyone in the van had closed their eyes, cherishing the brief sleep to recharge. Yi Shi didn’t feel sleepy. He rested his head against the window, closing his eyes to rest.
A lot happened tonight. As he finally relaxed, the first thing that came to his mind was the man missing on the mountain.
Yi Shi turned his head and softly said, “Captain Yu, about the one on the mountain…”
His voice trailed off and gradually faded. Yu Xue, arms crossed, head leaning back against the seat, eyes closed, had even taken off his gold-rimmed glasses.
Yi Shi turned his head back to look out the window. The bright stars peeked out one by one, and the moonlight was clear and bright, with not a cloud in sight.
Finally, a good day had arrived.
