NB Chapter20

Zhang Xiaoyuan turned his head away, stubbornly looking out the window, leaving me with nothing but the sight of the soft, rounded back of his head.

Whenever he sat right under my nose, he became completely ill at ease, and I had no desire to press him for answers in public either. Children are thin-skinned; even a heart-to-heart behind closed doors might not yield an answer, let alone out here. I made a mental note of it and said nothing more.

No one else spoke, and the atmosphere in the car turned frostier than ice. Aside from Ah Hai, who drove with detached focus, and Zhang Yike, who remained fast asleep and utterly oblivious to the fact that she was about to attend a classmate’s funeral, the remaining two adults and one child were each lost in their own thoughts.

If a fake couple living in mutual defiance has to endure such miserable days, I can hardly imagine what a real marriage must be like.

When we reached our destination, the rain had stopped, and Keke finally woke up. Still drowsy and half-asleep, she was being carried by Ah Hai, who was wearing sunglasses. At first, she didn’t quite register where she was; her mouth turned down, and she looked ready to burst into loud tears. Ah Hai had no choice but to take off his sunglasses before holding her again. Only then did she finally calm down. Perhaps she had feasted in her dreams, for she leaned obediently against Ah Hai’s shoulder and began to hiccup softly.

Xiao Yuan was led by Ah Shan; dressed in a small suit and holding a bouquet of flowers, he looked quite presentable.

Zhang Mingsheng took out a spare wheelchair for me, personally lifted me out of the car, and helped me settle in it. The blanket still lay across my legs like a heavy yet warm mound of snow. I wore sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat with a strip of black netting draped down from it, obscuring my face.

Whene arrived at the cemetery, it was damp and silent. The grassy hills and lawns had not yet fully turned the golden yellow of autumn; in the distance, groves of green pines stood in silence, guarding the white and gray tombstones beneath the hills. Not far away, a sizable church stood prominently. As I got out of the car, I happened to see a fountain in the center of the cemetery; a plump angel stood in the water holding a harp, possessing quite the flair of Western European art.

Getting out is never easy; even the air felt fresher than it did at home. I took in the scenery while casting a surprised glance at Zhang Mingsheng.

What exactly did the Zhu family believe in? Why were there angels, and why had we ended up at a church?

Zhang Mingsheng smiled, a faint, carefully concealed mockery flickering in his eyes. This time, it wasn’t aimed at me. He seemed to carry a distinctly detached, spectator-like attitude toward people who wanted everything at once; even those who couldn’t bring themselves to remain faithful to a single deity.

Our family, along with Ah Hai, Ah Shan, and a few familiar-faced enforcers; all dressed in black and gray, walked silently toward the church. To be honest, if Zhang Mingsheng’s grandfather had died, our family might not have turned out this collectively.

In truth, Zhang Mingsheng rarely attended social functions or banquets. In his youth, he had a bad temper and cut ties with his family more than once. Later on, he gradually softened, eventually shaping himself into the image of a “prodigal son returned,” someone who appeared devoted to his family and had finally come back. His capabilities had already been proven at the branch office, and after he “married” me and Keke was born, his relationship with his grandfather also began to thaw. Riding on that wave of regained favor, Zhang Mingsheng advanced further; ironically becoming the figure in Hong Kong high society most often seen as possessing a kind of “humanitarian glow.”

Others, in turn, had no need to fear being “straightened out” by him, and could even gain a free connection to the Zhang family, so they naturally rushed to curry favor with him. For a time, he too became something of a highly sought-after figure.

However, Zhang Mingsheng displayed a great sense of propriety, mostly attending family dinners and rarely bringing me along. His stance was that he had a family, lived a quiet life in his own corner, and had no desire to mess around outside.

To this, my opinion was that I couldn’t wait for him to drop dead somewhere out there.

Although the Zhu family was wealthy, they had little real power. Logically, Zhang Mingsheng shouldn’t have needed to give them this much face. After all, when everyone is rich, money ceases to mean much.

Yet this time, he behaved entirely out of character; not only did he attend the funeral in person, but he also brought me and the children along with him. Such high regard made me wonder: was he trying to win over the Zhu family? Or was there someone among the deceased who was close to his heart?

After the Zhu family’s eldest grandson, Zhu Baojun, passed away, his mother also died of a heart attack brought on by excessive grief. The Zhu family were “new money,” often looked down upon due to the nature of the business that put food on their table and their uncouth way of handling matters. Yet their family bonds seemed more normal; they were deeper and stable. Perhaps my conjectures were slightly off, but at the very least, a childlike Zhu Baojun still had a mother who would be heartbroken over him.

Maternal love is the most precious thing in the world.

The hearts of the Zhang family were as cold as a cellar; that is what nurtured a monster like Zhang Mingsheng.

Thinking of this, I tilted my head slightly and glanced up at him. I didn’t think he would notice, but the moment I lifted my eyelids, I met his gaze head-on.

He smiled at me, asking with his eyes what was the matter.

I pulled my lips into a thin, wordless grimace and went back to staring ahead in boredom.

Could Zhang Mingsheng really have known Zhu Baojun’s mother? For a moment, my mind spun an elaborate emotional drama between a rebellious youth and a gentle older woman.

The memorial hall was crowded with mourners, everyone holding glasses and drifting silently, occasionally whispering to one another; most were relatives or business associates of the Zhu family. The moment we stepped through the doors, gazes swept over us like a silent, wind-blown rain. Unaccustomed to being watched, I gave a light cough, and Ah Hai immediately reached out to tug the brim of my hat lower.

The eldest son of the Zhu family was in his thirties. He was a sallow, gaunt man with narrow eyes and a flat bridge to his nose; the kind of person who would disappear at once in a crowd, utterly unremarkable and easily lost from sight. He had once come to our door to apologize for his reckless son’s behavior; Zhang Mingsheng hadn’t let him in, offering only a few pleasantries through the intercom at the gate.

At this very moment, he eagerly approached us again. I couldn’t clearly see his expression through my sunglasses and the veil, but from his incredibly unnatural pleasantries, I felt no trace of sadness; only a certain awkwardness and a sense of restless anticipation that seemed to require a great deal of resolve to muster.

Zhang Mingsheng said, “Our children were classmates after all, and they went through the same ordeal. We were just a little luckier. Out of a sense of indebtedness, we felt we should come and see Baojun and your wife off on their final journey.”

The Eldest Young Master Zhu gave a bitter smile. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Zhang. Ah Die was soft-hearted and fated for hardship. And Baojun… Baojun, he… Ai.”

As they spoke, a woman suddenly approached. She greeted Zhang Mingsheng with a bright, hearty laugh, but Ah Hai, who was standing beside me, took half a step back.

To some extent, Ah Hai acted like a sensitive alarm system.

I assumed this must be the person with whom Zhang Mingsheng shared some history with. While she greeted me, I stole a glance at her face through the gap beneath my sunglasses. She was in her thirties with a rounded nose and large eyes; she was beautiful, but her features were so pronounced that they had begun to look a bit aged.

Why would someone like this make Ah Hai nervous?

Just as I was wondering, Zhang Mingsheng ended the awkward exchange and pushed me further inside. As we passed the square funeral portraits displayed in the center, I cast another nonchalant glance.

Holy shit.

Now even I was terrified.

The woman I had just seen was an exact match for the woman in the funeral portrait.

Cold sweat instantly broke out across my back as I gripped the armrests of my chair tightly.

Zhang Mingsheng noticed my reaction. His gloved hand came over mine, gently easing my grip. He leaned in close to my ear and said flatly, “No need to be afraid. They’re just twins.”

Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

Why are there so many twins in Hong Kong? We seem to run into all of them.

I took the glass of wine Zhang Mingsheng handed me before carefully bringing it under the brim of my hat, tilted it, and took a small sip. Having quit smoking and drinking for so long, my tongue was no longer used to alcohol.

Just as my features were twisting into a grimace, a familiar and annoying voice rang out.

“Brother Mingsheng, Sister-in-law,” Zhan Weiqing said as he approached with an easy elegance with a wine glass resting in his hand. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

His voice was as gentle and bright as ever, but I sensed something was off; it sounded as if the words were being ground out through clenched teeth, forceful yet strained.

“Didn’t you know? Keke and that child were classmates. But you, what are you doing here?” Zhang Mingsheng showed no unusual emotion; he clinked glasses with Zhan Weiqing, producing a sharp ‘clank’ sound.

“I’m here representing the newspaper to offer my condolences.” Zhan Weiqing replied.

He said that, but it was difficult to tell whether he was representing the newspaper or the Zhan family.

This time, Zhan Weiqing didn’t linger for long. He left quickly, and I was also happy to be left in peace.

I, Ah Hai, and Zhang Mingsheng were chatting idly when Keke, who was once again drowsy, was taken into Ah Shan’s arms, while Zhang Xiaoyuan nibbled slowly on a piece of cake. Suddenly, the distant clatter of heavy leather shoes echoed through the hall, followed by a forceful announcement, “Police! From the Major Crimes Unit.”

I turned my head in disbelief.

The newcomer was none other than Li Yi. His hair was slicked back, his expression resolute and simmering with a hidden fury. He looked as though he had come directly from the station, he was wearing a formal stone-grey suit jacket, a white shirt, a black tie, and black trousers with his ID badge still swaying against his chest. Behind him trailed several colleagues from the Major Crimes Unit; I could even vaguely recall some of their names.

For instance, the short-haired policewoman to Li Yi’s left was Jiang Xiaoqiu. When she first joined the force, she worked under me. Back then, she still had a hint of baby fat, but that was long gone now; her chin had sharpened, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. She had since joined the Major Crimes Unit. It seemed she had fulfilled part of her dream.

For some reason, my heart felt exceptionally calm. When one is in a desperate situation, catching a glimpse of someone you once tried your best to help have a good future brings an inevitable sense of relief. I had helped her; this life hadn’t been lived in vain.

However, I didn’t understand why Li Yi and the others were here.

“Mr. Zhu, our investigation is not over yet. You cannot bury the victims.” Li Yi’s words were extremely firm.

“Officer Li,” the Eldest Young Master Zhu stepped forward. His tone was still polite, even bordering on mild. “The investigation has gone on for so long without results. It would be better to let my son follow his mother and find peace in the ground sooner rather than later.”

Although the Hong Kong police have lost much of their prestige over the years, families like the Zhang family and the Song family, as well as the major triads, still grant the station a modicum of face in public; to say nothing of the Zhu family. Moreover, Li Yi had been promoted to inspector at a young age, and his reputation for being unyielding and merciless preceded him wherever he went. Who would dare openly oppose him?

“How can their souls rest in peace if the culprit hasn’t been caught?” Li Yi said with categorical certainty.

By contrast, Madam Zhu’s sister was far less civil than the Eldest Young Master Zhu. she stormed over, shouting at Li Yi, “You talk about catching the criminal, so go and catch him! ‘Victims’? That’s my sister and brother-in-law’s child, my nephew! Besides posting reward notices everywhere to find witnesses and endlessly questioning the family, what else can you police actually do?!”

“Xiao Qing, stop it. Inspector Li, I have always respected you, but I ask that you respect my family as well!” The Eldest Young Master Zhu stood to the side, struggling to pull the woman back.

This woman named Xiao Qing had a hardened face; she already lacked the tranquil temperament of her sister, and now she possessed a certain ferocity. She lifted her chin, ignoring Eldest Young Master Zhu’s attempt to intervene, slapped away the hand reaching for her, and met Li Yi’s gaze without the slightest hint of fear.

Li Yi looked at her calmly from only inches away.

His breathing remained steady, and even his eyelashes didn’t falter, continuing their natural blink.

In this gap, I stole a glance at Zhang Mingsheng and saw a tiny curve tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was watching a show. Had he anticipated that Li Yi would come? Had he deliberately brought me to this funeral just so I could watch Li Yi being humiliated?

Madman. A total madman.

Perhaps it was Xiaoqing’s intense stare that worked, or perhaps he received a signal from Jiang Xiaoqiu’s soft cough, but after a dozen seconds, Li Yi finally averted his gaze.

He looked around the room, finally fixing his eyes on our family.

He began to walk toward us.

Zhang Mingsheng was clearly excited; he even let out a faint, soft whistle.

“Mr. Zhang, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Li Yi’s voice drew closer. He still chose to address Zhang Mingsheng first.

“And I didn’t expect Officer Li to make such a scene at someone’s funeral either.” Zhang Mingsheng replied, his tone light and breezy.

“The case is clearly not closed, yet the Zhu family refuses to cooperate no matter what.” Li Yi stated calmly.

Li Yi’s words carried a hidden meaning.

He was interrogating Zhang Mingsheng.

However, Zhang Mingsheng’s skin was exceptionally thick. He said, “Not everyone is as willing to cooperate with Officer Li as my wife and I are.”

“It’s a pity,” Zhang Mingsheng added immediately, not giving Li Yi a chance to respond. Then, he lowered his voice, speaking in a tone intended only for those of us standing there while emphasizing every word, “It’s a pity that Officer Li doesn’t cherish your opportunities. After half a day of questioning, all you ended up with was a portrait of my wife.”

Within my field of vision, I saw Li Yi’s left hand suddenly clenched into a fist, the veins on the back of his hand standing out sharply as his fingernails dug deep into his palm.

Only when he had calmed down and unclenched his fist did he speak, but this time, his words took me completely by surprise.

Li Yi said, “Mrs. Zhang, I’ve heard that many in the Yu family practice medicine and that even you spent a few years studying at medical school.”

I had no idea where he had picked up such a rumor. Zhang Mingsheng had fabricated several personas and backstories for me to throw people off the scent; it seemed Li Yi had bought into one of them.

I sighed inwardly but gave no verbal reply. Li Yi ah, Li Yi, what medical school? Just like you, I only ever attended the police academy.

“Medicine is meant to save lives and heal the sick; it requires a compassionate heart. Children have been disappearing all across Hong Kong, and your own child was once in danger too. Yet you just stand by and watch. Is it because your child survived that you can now attend the funerals of the dead with a clear conscience?” Li Yi’s voice grew louder, his tone increasingly severe.

Hearing this, a trace of doubt flickered through my mind. How could Li Yi lose his composure like this? His words were disjointed, lacking logic, and his behavior was far too domineering; like he was deliberately picking on the weaker side.

Zhang Mingsheng clearly sensed this as well. He said, “Officer Li, my wife is not in good health. If you have anger to vent, you should direct it at me.”

“I am speaking to Mrs. Zhang. Mrs. Zhang hasn’t answered yet Mr. Zhang speaks for her. Does that mean without a husband, Mrs. Zhang is incapable of responding to any question?” Li Yi’s gaze was like a blade, hacking at me with reckless abandon. I didn’t understand what he meant, why was he clinging to me so relentlessly?

” Mrs. Zhang never leaves the house without sunglasses and a sun hat; rarely shows your true face and seldom speaks as if Mr. Zhang were your official spokesperson,” Li Yi continued pressing. “Has Mrs. Zhang truly become content to be nothing more than Mr. Zhang’s accessory?”

An accessory. Mr. Zhang’s accessory.

Li Yi knew me better than anyone; he knew my temperament and my character.

How could I ever want to be an accessory? Was he questioning me, or was he questioning Yu Huaiqing?

I was becoming confused. My heart rate accelerated rapidly, and I could even hear my own shallow breathing.

This time, before Zhang Mingsheng could answer, and while I was still stunned, Li Yi’s hand suddenly reached toward me.

I instinctively jerked my head to the side and dodged.

He wanted to take off my hat. Li Yi wanted to rip off my hat.

The moment I dodged, a realization suddenly struck me:

Li Yi must have recognized me.