Chapter 22

While recalling Ye Hong, Zhou An choked up several times, unable to continue.

“What happened next?”

Meng Bai was desperate to know exactly what had transpired in those days.

“That night, I went to Ye Hong’s house.”

Ye Hong had so much to say that they talked late into the night. Zhou An wanted to get to the bottom of everything, so she simply headed over to Ye Hong’s place.

It was that very night that Zhou An learned about Ye Hong’s family situation.

Ye Hong had lost her father young. Her mother worked as a seamstress in the township, and the two of them scraped by on a pittance, their days pinched and lean.

That hardship had made Ye Hong all the more determined. She knew full well that hitting the books was the only path to a better life.

She was one of the school’s top students, on the recommendation list.

Zhang Gou had taken her aside early on and told her privately: study hard, and college wouldn’t be an issue.

Did she trust him? Of course—Uncle Zhang was so kind and approachable.

So one day, bypassing the principal entirely, Zhang Gou went straight to Ye Hong and asked her to meet him at the Project Department. Without a second thought, she went.

In the office, Zhang Gou said, “Honghong, let Uncle take you into the city to buy some pretty clothes.”

Ye Hong was grateful but turned him down. “New clothes aren’t as good as new books,” she said. “For someone like me, clothes just get rattier with every wear, but books? The more you chew on them, the tastier they get.”

“No problem at all, good girl,” Zhang Gou replied. “If it’s books you like, I’ll send you a whole crateful.”

What a wonderful man.

He brimmed with righteousness, praising her choice to study as the smartest decision, urging her to charge ahead while promising to smooth the path before her.

No one had ever backed Ye Hong like that. For a fleeting moment, she saw Zhang Gou as her deliverance from a cruel fate.

But it all ended that one time—

That time, the Project Department office held only Ye Hong and Zhang Gou.

On the long sofa, he sat close—too close—their legs nearly brushing. Yet he betrayed no oddity.

“Honghong, what’re you planning for your college entrance exam choices? Ever thought about H City? Uncle’s got friends there who could look out for you.”

Ye Hong stared at his leg. Respect kept darker thoughts at bay.

“H City? I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can get in.”

“You’ll get in! Of course you will!” Here, Zhang Gou reached over and patted the back of her hand. “Uncle Zhang believes in you.”

The unexpected touch jolted her. She drew back her leg on instinct and shot him a timid glance.

Revulsion flooded her. She shot to her feet. “Thank you, Uncle Zhang, but the exam’s months away. I haven’t decided yet—I’ll go now.”

“Hey? Go where? You just got here!” He lunged to grab her.

His grip was iron. She stumbled straight into his arms.

“What are you doing!” Ye Hong shoved him fiercely, face drained white with terror. She struggled to flee, but his strength overwhelmed her.

No more pretense.

He clamped her tight, murmuring in her ear: “Listen to Uncle. Be good, and I’ll fund any college you want.”

“I don’t want this!” Desperate, she thrashed to break free.

Zhang Gou pinned her wrist. Overpowered, escape was impossible.

Ye Hong didn’t understand—truly didn’t. Her innocence ran so deep that even a casual brush between man and woman struck her as unforgivable, let alone his manhandling.

“No college for you, then?” Zhang Gou’s face twisted ugly.

“Let me go—please, let me go.”

“I’m speaking at your school come term start, planning to praise you before everyone. Uncle likes that fire in you. Don’t spurn my kindness.”

Oh.

That was it.

Bright sun blazed that day. Outside the Project Department, the tower summit hummed; workers sweated atop steel girders.

Clang-clang-clang—the hammer striking rebar.

Scorched by the blaze, Ye Hong burst from the Project Department at last—disheveled, frantic. She yearned to retch, to scour her hands, her whole arm clean.

That gripped wrist felt filthy.

He’d aimed to grope elsewhere too, but she’d fled just in time.

~~~

“I’ll pause Ye Hong’s story there,” Zhou An said with a sigh. “Her jump later on—I still can’t make sense of it. But I have to know why.”

Meng Bai fell utterly silent.

This wasn’t just Ye Hong’s ordeal. It loomed as a peril for every girl.

She could picture it already: the classroom brimming with Ye Hong number two, three, four.

All merchandise, stamped with shelf lives, plucked at whim, stocked on random days. Their end? Devoured, or left to molder forever.

“How absurd.” Strength ebbed from Meng Bai’s limbs.

How dark was the world? Shrouded in fog, nothing stood clear.

Dear classmate Ye Hong.

Whatever drove you to that leap.

Meng Bai vowed: if time rewound to that day, she’d pedal her bicycle like the wind, race to school sooner, dash to the cafeteria rooftop, enfold classmate Ye Hong, and beg her not to.

But it was all too late.

“Do you know why I didn’t go home?” Zhou An glanced at Xu Qin as she spoke.

Xu Qin had stayed mute throughout.

“The next day, you reported me missing. Police came to the house; the whole town searched. After Ye Hong’s words, I trusted neither Zhou Qiang nor Zhang Caiyun anymore. And I knew exactly what’d happen if I resurfaced.”

Nothing, of course!

Police would chalk it up to typical teen rebellion—a sulky night out, safe return by morning.

Carpenter Zhou up to no good? Where was proof? Nowhere.

“They’d see me fine and dandy. Why suspect my parents of harm? Who’d credit a kid over grown-ups? I can hear Dad facing the police now.”

“I’ve been at Ye Hong’s place the whole time, right up until she met with her accident. I just wanted to stretch out the time I was missing, to see if the police would get involved. Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened yet.”

Meng Bai frowned. “Even if that was your plan, why didn’t you come to me?”

“I’ve come looking for you twice. That’s what I wanted to ask you—why weren’t you home for several nights in a row? Do you know how long I called for you outside your window? One night, I nearly got caught by your mom.”

Oh, right. She hadn’t been home those nights.

She had gone to find Miao Bai.

“Later, I got worried you’d fret over me. Ye Hong mentioned she’d seen you chatting with Zhou Chuxing at the school gates, so I thought of my brother and left him that note. Every time I slipped out, it was in a rush, and I had to dodge people, so I always snuck out and back in a hurry. Time was tight.”

Unfortunately, the morning after she left the note, Ye Hong had her accident.

Why she jumped was still a mystery.

But the whole picture was much clearer now.

So, timeline-wise, Zhou An hadn’t gone to Teacher Xu until after her classmate Ye Hong’s incident.

“Got it.” Meng Bai rubbed her temples. There were too many details, and her head was starting to ache from piecing it all together.

Still, Meng Bai sorted through it.

First off, Zhou An’s disappearance was something that shouldn’t have happened at all. But thanks to some opportunities and coincidences, it had become real.

It was all thanks to Xu Zhou—her tip had allowed Zhou An to escape the trap.

Like a butterfly effect: the moment the wings fluttered, it set off a chain reaction.

If Xu Zhou hadn’t warned her, Zhou An couldn’t have gotten away. If she hadn’t escaped, she wouldn’t have run into Ye Hong. And without Ye Hong, they wouldn’t have learned about Zhang Gou’s actions.

The trail ended with Zhang Gou.

Zhang Gou.

That so-called “philanthropist.” Did he have other accomplices? Had there been girls in his clutches before? Or who might he target next? These were questions that needed answers.

“So what do we do now?” Meng Bai asked.

“We should call the police, but we need evidence,” Zhou An said.

Teacher Xu—Xu Qin—chimed in. “I’ve consulted some friends in the city. Reporting it makes sense, but we don’t have any evidence on hand. For sexual assault, you’d need on-scene proof or physical evidence from the victim.”

“Which means, in our current situation, calling the police won’t punish Zhang Gou,” Zhou An concluded.

Xu Qin sighed. “For sexual harassment, he’d probably just get detained for half a month to a month.”

Zhang Gou would face no real punishment—or at best, a slap on the wrist.

“No way. Impossible.” Meng Bai’s brow furrowed as she turned to Zhou An. “Does that seem fair to you? Does it seem right?”

“It’s not fair, and it’s not right.” Zhou An jabbed her finger hard into the bedsheet. “Of course I want him rotting in prison for life.”

Xu Qin sighed again, finally voicing her true opinion. “If Zhou An goes home now, she’ll probably be safe. At this point, Zhang Gou’s unlikely to take risks with her. And with Ye Hong gone, the evidence is too thin.”

“Teacher Xu.” Meng Bai suddenly remembered something. “Do you recall what Zhang Gou said on the flag-raising platform? He said GM Engineering would sponsor us for college.”

Xu Qin nodded. “Yeah.”

“His intentions are obvious, aren’t they? I bet Zhang Gou will strike again.”

Xu Qin nodded. “Obviously. Of course he will.”

The words hung in the air, and the three of them fell silent. Some things went without saying.

They could call the police before he made his next move. With the authorities’ resources, he’d likely lay low for a while—but how long? If he wasn’t locked up for good, he’d be a ticking time bomb.

Getting him behind bars for real would be incredibly difficult. It wasn’t something Meng Bai and Zhou An could pull off alone, nor could Teacher Xu manage by herself.

There was one other approach that might work, but it carried huge risks.

The three women exchanged glances, the silence stretching until Meng Bai broke it. “Let’s think this through. Call the police or gather evidence? If it’s evidence we need, we’ll require bait. And if we need bait—”

Zhou An drew in a deep breath. “Then who can be the bait?”