Chapter 18: I Am the Greatest Culprit

Gan Ling said she needed to think of another way.

A normal person wouldn’t think of going out on the street to broadly snap photos of everyone for identification. Shooting would take until the year of the monkey and the horse, and the identifier’s energy is limited too. After going crazy for those few days, Gan Ling’s rationality had returned, and she temporarily shelved the plan.

Things stayed quiet for a few days.

I sat at home unboxing a package and took out the gift box for Zheng Ningning.

I didn’t really buy into the idea that burning things in one go for the dead would deliver them reliably like some logistics service for use in the afterlife, but people in Neng County generally believed in it. When someone died, they’d burn paper models of BMWs and villas, along with dollars and euros, heedless of hell’s inflation, torching away all the regrets of the deceased’s life. Amid the roaring flames, everyone shed hot tears in the haze and heat waves.

But I still burned stuff. Some things I couldn’t bear to burn, so I’d stick them on the tombstone like posting couplets for New Year, demanding an explanation from fate in the netherworld once a year. Other things I’d pack in a box and burn with a cheap one-yuan lighter.

This year, because of the pandemic, my package was delayed a bit, but luckily, nothing inside was damaged.

If Zheng Ningning were alive, she’d be fourteen this year. Pixar released Turning Red, about a girl’s puberty and menstruation story—my summary might not be accurate, but I felt it fit Zheng Ningning perfectly. The little girl hadn’t even reached that restless age before turning into a pile of dry bones. I wanted to introduce her to all the good animated films.

Inside the package was a red panda plush doll, with a red acrylic cord loop hanging from its butt.

Now the shoebox only had Elsa stickers and carrot stuff besides this doll. I’m childish like that. I racked my brains but had no idea what a pubescent girl would like, so I temporarily shelved it and started cutting gift wrapping paper.

During my puberty at Peng County Fifth Middle School, I was utterly unremarkable. I wasn’t overly restless either, just calm and composed. My mom had a plan for me, and I followed it step by step. Studying, with mediocre talent; body development unexceptional; a plain, average face somewhere between child and girl. Not even any tumultuous crushes. My desk mate was a little boy who hadn’t developed yet, with a peach-shaped tuft of hair on the front of his shaved head. I’d never read romance novels, never chased stars—just a total country bumpkin.

My greatest achievement in life was being the Chinese class rep, handing out study guides, collecting test papers and homework. The Chinese teacher praised me as a pure-hearted good kid, and I blushed all day. That night, I dreamed of the scent of her perfume.

Perfume? At fourteen, was that too early?

Lost in random thoughts, there was suddenly a thump-thump-thump at the door.

It was Gan Ling again—I knew from the rhythm.

Gan Ling hadn’t shown up for days, still in her usual getup: the cuffs of her black hoodie worn thin, that head of graying hair loosely pinned up in a small bun at the back of her head.

I suddenly thought Gan Ling would look good with dyed white hair—after all, she had that long, slender face.

Gan Ling got straight to the point: “I asked around. No change… The cop handling the case retired. Seems not from Neng County. Didn’t find where he lives. Court, prison—not easy to track. Now, photos it is.”

This time, Gan Ling pulled out her phone from her pants pocket, power bank in the other—looks like the plastic bag was retired.

I habitually stepped aside to close the door, tidying up the scissors, colored paper, and wrapping box onto the side table as she came in.

This time, Gan Ling actually sat down for once, sinking into the sofa. She even reached out to drag the box toward her, glanced at it, and let go. I’d thought she might snatch it; with a slight tug, when she pulled back, the box tipped and nearly spilled everything.

“I haven’t decided what else to add. These feel too plain—stickers, cards, dolls. Lacking something practical.” I rummaged through the box again, not hiding from Gan Ling, and tossed it onto the TV cabinet.

Gan Ling was Zheng Ningning’s mom, after all.

“What?” Gan Ling’s tone was flat, like she didn’t care what I said.

“Nothing.” I set the box aside, first grabbing the eye drops and placing them on the coffee table. Gan Ling glanced at the TV cabinet: “Maybe missing a Judy.”

“Huh?” I was prying my eyelids to drip the eye drops, unsure where Gan Ling got that from.

“In the box. You said it’s lacking.”

“It’s not a civil service exam, finding matches… Why add Judy?”

Finished with the other eye, I blinked a few times, leaned back on the sofa, and closed my eyes to rest.

“You look like a rabbit,” Gan Ling said.

I said if she was gonna look down on me, don’t use rabbit as a metaphor—I’m a kindergarten teacher, not an idiot.

“Toy box?” Gan Ling asked.

“What?” I’d already learned to take the phone from Gan Ling’s hand myself, smoothly opening the gallery and starting to flip through, counting aloud from my mouth.

“That thing, the Elsa stickers’…”

I suddenly stopped counting: “Gift box.”

“Oh.” Gan Ling didn’t pursue it, just lifted her chin signaling me to continue, still hugging her arms as she scrutinized my expression, watching if I could pick out the killer from this pile of photos.

I looked carefully. All the men in the photos were distinct, letting me infer Gan Ling had snuck shots from all sorts of absurd angles. If she got nabbed as a spy someday, no one would be surprised.

Flipping through, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure.

Gan Ling reacted faster than me. The moment I did, she snatched the phone, glaring at the guy on the screen.

The she-wolf abruptly stood to hunt, eyes shooting beams of light. I hurriedly shouted: “No, he’s not the killer. That’s my ex-boyfriend…”

Gan Ling froze, arrogantly lifting her chin, signaling me to go on.

“Really, didn’t you go through my phone? There’s a photo of us together.”

I pulled up the photo of me and Lu Jinshi at Plum Kindergarten. Gan Ling confirmed it, slightly raising her brows: “Doesn’t look like.”

“He… he’s got chipmunk cheeks now, and after two kids, he’s gotten a bit greasy. Look at the features—they’re the same.”

I couldn’t mistake Lu Jinshi. He was my first love; we nearly got married. Even after two kids and six years apart, I could spot him on social media—some belly fat starting but not obvious, face noticeably wider.

Poking the phone, letting Gan Ling compare the two screens’ Lu Jinshi for a bit, she finally slumped in confirmation: this guy was indeed my ex, Lu Jinshi. A prisoner couldn’t knock up his wife with a second kid.

Gan Ling sat back, tossed the phone to me, and like the little interlude never happened, signaled me to continue. Her expression unchanged.

But spotting Lu Jinshi, I couldn’t help recalling why we broke up.

Zheng Ningning’s death upended my life; everything fell into disorder. It was my fault. Lu Jinshi was a good guy.

After a pause, I kept flipping, continuing the count from before, finally reaching two hundred. Gan Ling took the phone to sort photos; I did my eye drops and closed my eyes.

“Tell me your info.”

Gan Ling hmmed: “Name’s Gan Ling, Dragon zodiac, thirty-three, from Neng County, one seventy-two, weight—”

“This info’s useless!” I sat up. Gan Ling’s graying hair made me hold back harsh words.

Only thirty-three.

Gan Ling leaned on the sofa, squinting: “You didn’t say what kind of info to give.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It does. Keep looking at photos.” Gan Ling’s tone was a bit commanding, but not obnoxious—maybe softer compared to her previous aggression. A rabid she-wolf talking instead of punching felt almost acceptable?

“Next time, something else.”

Gan Ling nodded faintly, opened her eyes, and pressed my head toward the phone screen, forcing me to continue.

I’m good-tempered by nature, so no rebellion. I shook off her arm and continued, counting out another two hundred. Gan Ling sorted photos: “Over seven years, I went lots of places—Beijing, Changsha, Shenzhen, Xi’an. Did cleaning, waitressed, street vending, small business, opened a shop and lost money, then e-commerce customer service, quit. Came back from Hebei—our warehouse was there.”

That was somewhat useful info.

Gan Ling’s eyes seemed to ask, “Enough?” I nodded—it qualified.

I spent a full four hours on photos, earning a few more tidbits: “I didn’t get along with Ningning’s grandma—just typical unpleasant mother-in-law thing.”

“Seven years ago, I left because washing pots and dishes every day annoyed me. Wanted some meaning in life, so I went.”

“Oh, why? Because I just… pretty irresponsible, no motherly sense of duty…”

I mulled over the bits I’d gotten for blinding myself through eight hundred photos. Gan Ling said it breezily; I couldn’t tell truth from lie. I suspected she thought I was easy to fool, tossing them out to mess with my judgment.

“Next question: How’d you decide to come back?” I made my demand. Gan Ling pointed at the phone. I crossed my arms in front of my face to signal refusal—if no explanation, I was done. My head was pounding.

Gan Ling toed me with her shoe tip, dirtying my sock in one go.

I immediately stood up. “I’m not an idiot. Don’t try to fool me here—I couldn’t care less about your reasons. If I don’t tell you, there’s nothing you can do to me!”

Gan Ling sat on the sofa with her arms crossed, seemingly finding me annoying as her eyes darkened and drooped. “Childish.”

“What!”

“Threatening me,” Gan Ling judged. “You blow up at the slightest thing. The next day when I came, didn’t you still obediently look at the photos? Now you’re yelling and screaming just because I stepped on you once.”

“This sock of mine… I just washed this sock!”

Gan Ling paused and glanced down. “As long as you look at the photos, I won’t make a move.”

“You, you for no reason at all… Even if you, you have your reasons, I… I have no reason to put up with you coming to my house and… stepping on me, always… always forcing me into this, I—” I was so furious I could die. My anger was directly proportional to my stammering, and in the end, I couldn’t even spit out a single coherent sentence. All I could do was yank Gan Ling to her feet. “Get out! I’m moving! I’m not living here anymore!”

“I’ll find you.”

“I’ll call the police!”

Gan Ling suddenly said, “I thought of something. I can go find your ex-boyfriend. You two have a photo together at Plum Kindergarten from back when you were together. Regarding the murderer, he must know something.”

I hadn’t expected this crazy woman to be so fixated on finding the murderer that she’d come up with yet another bizarre method right now.

I froze in place as Gan Ling turned to leave. I could only futilely grab her sleeve to stop her from going to Lu Jinshi.

With the photo, she had his location. If she kept watch, it wouldn’t be hard for her to track down Lu Jinshi’s place just like she’d tracked me.

Gan Ling whipped her head back around, her indifferent eyes fixed on me. By obstructing her quest for revenge, I’d become her enemy. The way she looked at me was like a predator eyeing its prey.

“Don’t disturb him… He’s got nothing to do with this. He doesn’t know anything. I never told him a thing. Please, don’t go find him—” I gripped Gan Ling tightly. Gan Ling said, “Then tell me the murderer’s information.”

“I can’t, Gan Ling. I can’t…” I used both hands to tug at Gan Ling’s sleeve.

But she seemed to know I definitely wouldn’t talk, so she wasn’t surprised. Her other hand grabbed my arm. I didn’t know what trick she used, but by the time I snapped out of it, Gan Ling was already at the door, and I was twisted against the back of it.

“I’ll tell you one more thing. I came back to Neng County to kill the murderer. If I can’t find the murderer, then I am the greatest murderer.”

Gan Ling whispered those words in my ear—the one sincere statement today that I actually believed.

She shoved me back into my own home. I stumbled and crashed against the sofa backrest. The door slammed shut.