There weren’t many people getting nucleic acid tests. After we finished, we detoured to the bike shelter, where that little electric scooter was domineeringly occupying a whole car parking space.
We had an early morning train the next day, so Gan Ling and I still needed to ride back to pack our things.
She hadn’t rented the place for long, and suddenly saying she wanted to move out made the landlord unhappy. But after a video call with Gan Ling, seeing the yard neatly tidied and the house clean, the landlord finally agreed and returned the deposit—just three hundred yuan. I helped her pack, but Gan Ling said there was no need.
She swiftly took down the photos from the photo wall, dismantled the frames with neat efficiency, extracted the pictures, and left almost everything else behind.
I was pretty good at decluttering, but Gan Ling took it to another level—ruthless.
I picked up the blanket, thinking it was a shame to toss it, but Gan Ling said no. I eyed the cups—they seemed fine too—but Gan Ling said no.
In the end, I couldn’t sway her. Gan Ling only took those few photos, some clothes, toiletries, and I finally got a good look at that twenty-yuan perfume. I’d thought the elegant floral script on it was some fancy English, but piecing it together, it was just pinyin.
I spritzed some on my wrist to try it—kinda nose-stinging. Gan Ling snatched the perfume, tossed it in the trash, and I watched in horror. Then she grabbed my arm and rubbed my wrist against the back of her neck.
She tilted her face, lifted her chin, and I caught that natural fragrance. I couldn’t help but want to fish it back out of the trash can—Gan Ling didn’t stop me in the end.
In the end, all her stuff fit on the electric scooter I was riding, and it wasn’t even as heavy as the gifts I bring Ningning Grandma every year on Zheng Ningning’s death anniversary. The little suitcase was strapped across the front, holding her clothes and documents. I clamped it with my feet while riding, then carefully placed it in my home. No matter what, I wanted to unzip it and stuff the contents into corners of my place.
But that suitcase was one Gan Ling was taking with her anyway—her truly important things fit in just one box, ready to go.
Suddenly, it hit me: if I really went out of town to make a living, would I keep the house in Neng County? Staying here was my safety net, but it wouldn’t fetch much if sold… But thinking of Zheng Chenggang left me at a loss. I gritted my teeth, about to decide, when Gan Ling said, “I thought of something—we should bring a parasol.”
That decision got swallowed back down.
That evening, Zhu Erting suddenly messaged me. She said she’d seen a drunk on the road who looked a bit like Zheng Chenggang.
I immediately crept out of bed on tiptoe, phone in hand, and slipped into the bathroom.
Jiang Huixiang: Show me.
Zhu Erting: [Picture]
I opened it and scrutinized—yeah, kinda similar, but not Zheng Chenggang. For one, he’s tall; this guy looked under 1.6 meters. The features didn’t match either, just the coat had that old-man vibe. She’d mistaken him.
Jiang Huixiang: Nah, it’s not.
Zhu Erting: You asleep? Want me to come over and tell you in person?
Jiang Huixiang: Huh?
It was 10 PM, and Gan Ling—who’d gone to bed early—was still lying there. Even though Zhu Erting lived across the street, it’d take her less than ten minutes to walk over, but still…
Jiang Huixiang: Can’t you say it on WeChat?
Zhu Erting: No, I’ve got something big to tell you.
Jiang Huixiang: What?
Zhu Erting: I’ve been keeping an eye out for you these past couple days, staring at this photo. Doesn’t Zheng Ningning look like her dad?
Jiang Huixiang: Yeah.
Zhu Erting: I think she looks like her mom, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I gotta show you—wait, I’m coming right over.
Don’t come! Zhu Erting stopped replying instantly. I clawed at my hair and dove back into the bedroom. A sudden friend visit—I had no clue what to do.
Gan Ling wasn’t asleep either. She lay tilted, motioning for me to get her water.
I said, “My friend just said she’s coming over.”
Gan Ling said, “Water.”
I poured a glass and brought it. Gan Ling studied my face but said nothing. She threw off the covers, kicked her slippers under the bed, glanced at me, opened the wardrobe, and crouched inside.
I let out an “ah,” but Gan Ling was already curled up, hugging her knees, tilting the cup on her lap to sip from the rim.
She looked up, half-smiling: “Close the door.”
I hadn’t meant for her to hide, but before I was ready, she’d done it herself—her head bumping my coats and tees. Seeing me frozen, she reached out, using her fingertips to yank the wardrobe door shut, sealing herself inside.
I knew she didn’t want to put me in a tough spot, but right then, I felt unbearably conflicted.
If it were up to me, I’d probably hide Gan Ling—like a wife frantically stashing her lover when the husband comes home. But before I could sort my thoughts, Gan Ling read my face and preempted, slipping into this absurd spot. It made me uncomfortable.
That shame and unease crawled over me like little bugs.
Was it guilt, fear of mockery? Scared to show my friends the real me? Or because Gan Ling and I were both women, bonded over Zheng Ningning’s ghost—something neither of us could let see the light?
All these thoughts swirled as WeChat pinged—Zhu Erting was downstairs.
I yanked open the wardrobe: “Come out.”
“Hm?”
“There’s nothing shameful… I’ll introduce you. She knows you; she just doesn’t know…”
“I don’t care,” Gan Ling clutched my tee, refusing to budge, chin raised in her usual cool defiance. “I just don’t wanna go out and meet your friend.”
“Why?”
“Embarrassed.”
Gan Ling saying she was “embarrassed” sounded like alien talk. I gawked, and she said it so matter-of-factly, handing me the cup while hugging her knees. Her arm snaked out to shut the door again. I forced her out—just as she perked her ears: “Someone’s knocking.”
Zhu Erting was at the door.
I shot up; Gan Ling slammed the wardrobe shut. I wanted to say more, but the knocking started.
The moment Zhu Erting entered, she beelined for the bedroom—like old times. She’d visit, find me incubating in bed like an invalid, plop by the bedside. It was seamless; I didn’t even get my arm up in time. Snapping back, she’d kicked off her shoes, cross-legged on my bed, phone out: “So, here’s the deal—I made a huge discovery. For sure. Look close at Zheng Ningning; she really takes after her mom. Don’t just sit there—c’mon, sit, anyway you’re not sleeping.”
If I were alone, Zhu Erting yapping cross-legged till morning would’ve been fine.
But now I felt like a guest in my own home, perched on the bed’s edge. One glance up, and there was the wardrobe—Gan Ling inside, who-knows-what expression as she listened.
I mumbled an “mm,” but Zhu Erting didn’t notice anything off. She opened WeChat, tapped a mini-program.
“I’ve been obsessing over this. No matter how ruthless Zheng Chenggang is, could he really hurt a face that looks just like his own?” At her words, I nearly blacked out.
Gan Ling and I still hadn’t voiced “the killer” out loud. Spelling out Zheng Chenggang? Zhu Erting was out to get me killed.
I cut in quick: “Cut the crap. You come over at night—what’s your boyfriend say?”
“Who cares—he can say whatever. Men are clothes, friends are kin; stripping off a shirt for a friend ain’t nothing.”
Zhu Erting, all righteous, shoved my head down to peer at the mini-program. Big pink title, like a beauty filter app: “AI Test: Do You Look More Like Dad or Mom?” in outlined round font.
Zhu Erting expertly uploaded a family trio from her album—she’d presliced that family photo. Progress bar zipped; then a popup ad: Follow XXX for results.
I said, “This is all scam stuff…”
Zhu Erting wagged a finger: “No, no, no—I’m prepared. I tested before. Join group, pay twenty bucks, get AI video results with voiceover.”
Huh?
Zhu Erting: “Full breakdown, even three courts five eyes. C’mon, I’ll reimburse the twenty.” She pinched thumb and middle finger, grinning smugly.
What the hell twenty yuan! I gritted my teeth, paid her. Transfer hit; she sent the video.
I tapped play—classic marketing BGM with eerie cackles.
Zheng Chenggang’s photo flashed, then Gan Ling’s; they merged in template effects.
A demonic voiceover as Zheng Ningning’s photo emerged. A bar graph popped below—two bars like vote counts climbing: “Dad,” “Mom.” Percentages rose: 20%, 30%…
Music cut sharp; results out.
“Did you know? Your similarity to Dad is 46%, to Mom 72%! Shocked? Follow XXXX and test again!”
That twenty-yuan flesh stung. I eyed Zhu Erting; she flicked back to her album: “See? Pretty accurate, right?”
“Just this?”
Amid my skepticism, Zhu Erting sent another picture. I dazedly took a look—it was Gan Ling’s face and Zheng Ningning’s face overlaid semi-transparently on each other.
“Actually, it’s not me talking nonsense. I was just looking at people and casually tested it. I originally thought it was pretty ridiculous too, but look closely. Take a good look—the kid really doesn’t look like the mom? Like these eyes, this nose. Kids are hard to tell with, but once grown up, it looks just like that! But at a rough glance, it still looks like the dad, which shows it’s biological.”
I had no mood to joke around with Zhu Erting and could only say it straight: “So what are you showing me this in the middle of the night for?”
“I’m thinking of a possibility. You say, that Zheng Chenggang killing his own daughter isn’t—”
She better not say any more. I immediately stood up. “Alright, alright, I get what you mean. Go on, go on, head back quick.”
Zhu Erting was suddenly pushed out by me and yelled that I was stingy. I’d reimbursed her twenty bucks and this was how I treated her. But if she stayed here, I was really afraid Gan Ling would suddenly crawl out from the cabinet, tear her face off, grab a knife from the kitchen, and fight desperately with Zheng Chenggang.
I believed she had heard it too. I was already scared three souls gone and seven po missing, desperately wanting to hurry back and comfort Gan Ling, so I had no choice but to wrong Zhu Erting. After pushing her out the door, she still thought it was because of those twenty bucks and huffed several times. “Hmph! I specially came over to share this big news with you. I had to compare them for you in person—it’s not clear enough on WeChat. Twenty bucks? Totally worth it. Really, if the murderer acted precisely because the kid looks like the mom, doesn’t that explain everything?”
“I don’t care about the bad guy’s motives. He did bad things, so he did them. Besides, anyone with eyes can see it looks like the dad—only you say it looks like the mom…”
“Because kids change as they grow! How are you acting like a dummy? Did you forget the TV dramas? The concubine cuckolds the old master, the kid’s face all wrinkly and nothing shows. She has to say, ‘Master, look how much this child resembles you.’ If the master doesn’t believe it himself, unless the kid really looks like someone else, with everyone saying it looks like the master, won’t the master end up thinking so too?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I still hadn’t quite followed, always feeling like Zhu Erting was implying something.
“Aiya, what I mean is, if everyone says the kid looks like Zheng Chenggang, he’ll definitely like the kid. But if one day he takes a close look and realizes it doesn’t actually look like him at all, won’t he get angry?”
“What you’re saying is pure speculation. I saw the kid too and thought she looked like her father… Alright, not talking anymore. Hurry back.”
I pushed Zhu Erting away. Her words were outrageous, but after all, Zheng Ningning and Zheng Chenggang really did look similar— that was undeniable.
But the more I thought back, the more I could see Gan Ling in Zheng Ningning. Before this, Gan Ling had always been blurry somehow, like Zheng Ningning only resembled Zheng Chenggang…
But right now, there was no time to worry about Zheng Ningning. Zheng Ningning’s mom had heard Zheng Chenggang’s name. She’d been pretending ignorance despite knowing better before, but now she couldn’t keep up the act for even a minute.
I double-locked the door, shut the windows tight, poured a cup of water, and walked back to the bedroom anxiously.
Gan Ling had already opened the cabinet door and crawled out, crouching down. She patted the nonexistent dust off herself, sat on the edge of the bed, took the cup, and showed no expression.
After thinking it over, I said, “Do you want more water? I’ll pour you another.”
Gan Ling’s eyes were gloomy as she stared off into space, lost in thought. She suddenly snapped back with a startled look, tilted her head and pursed her lips, eyed me with her gaze, then lifted her eyelids with a very faint smile and handed the cup back to me. “I want to see that video.”
“Ah? What video? Um… Let’s sleep. It’s already late, and tomorrow morning, we’ve still gotta… gotta catch the train…”
“That one about whether it’s like the dad or the mom. You spent twenty bucks on it—I’ll reimburse you.”
My attempt to play dumb failed. The phone felt like a red-hot branding iron scorching my palm, sizzling the skin and fusing it together so I couldn’t even rub the glass screen. Gan Ling just blinked quietly, waiting to see how I’d stall. Those eyes of hers were far too sharp—one look and it was clear she knew everything. I had no choice but to slowly click forward. Gan Ling received it and opened it to watch.
She watched it over and over, that bewitching BGM endlessly looping through the folds of my brain.
I didn’t dare interrupt. Staring at Gan Ling, she just silently watched the video for a long time before sending me a twenty-buck red envelope. She turned off the screen, supervised me as I accepted it, took my phone, rolled over to lift the quilt. “Lights off. Sleep.”
I was uneasy. After turning off the lights and leaning beside Gan Ling, my guilty conscience had my heart racing.
She simply kissed my forehead and didn’t say a word.
