Chapter 43: Sorry… Come Home With Me. Part 2

“My brother raped and murdered that woman—what of it? If she hadn’t struggled, he wouldn’t have killed her. Isn’t my brother pitiful too? He just liked her… It wasn’t intentional… She died, and he grieved…

“Isn’t that just what happens between men and women? Human nature… And every day, the world sees worse rapes and murders than his. Why fixate on my brother?

“He’s dead now… Only twenty-five, still a kid… You locked him up, his wife fled with the child, Mom fell ill and died! Family shattered! Nothing left! You’re vicious—so go pay with your lives.”

The man’s voice rasped, like bark ground by an old tree trunk.

He fell silent, squatting by the inverted window, waiting for them to die completely, cool through.

Time passed—who knew how long. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, butts piling at his feet.

His legs went numb from squatting. Assuming they were gone, he prepared to return to his truck when a sudden ringtone blared unexpectedly.

The man’s gaze was bloodshot, his expression sinister, and the muscles on his face twitched neurotically with the rhythm of the ringing phone.

He stared deathly at the blood-smeared woman inside the car.

Qin Qing’s fingers twitched. Her tightly shut eyes trembled beneath the lids. Driven by maternal instinct, she sensed that this call was from Xiang Yu.

Qin Qing’s internal organs had ruptured. She could even feel the blood rapidly filling her abdominal cavity, the swelling sensation. Blood flowed from everywhere—her organs inside, her skin outside. Her mouth filled with the metallic taste, surging out in gulps. Her eyes and nose bled too. The entire world drowned in crimson…

She knew she wouldn’t survive, but in her final moments, she just wanted to hear her daughter’s voice one more time…

To hear her Little Yu call her “Mommy” once more…

The phone was in her pocket, but the ringing seemed to come from a distant place, filling the entire car… filling her ears…

No one knew how Qin Qing mustered the strength to lift her hand to reach for the phone.

And that man? When Qin Yuan’s eyeballs rolled beneath her lids… he didn’t strike. When Qin Qing’s fingers trembled… he didn’t strike. Even when Qin Qing slipped her hand into her pocket and, with her last shred of will, pulled out the phone… he still didn’t strike.

He stared fixedly at Qin Qing, the blood vessels in his eyes bulging, swollen sacs forming on the whites like cysts, as if they might burst at any moment.

His hand held a cigarette, which he kept drawing into his lungs, inhaling deeply. The crackle of burning tobacco echoed loudly in the silent wilderness, amplified countless times.

Only when Qin Qing’s bloodied fingers were about to touch the answer button—

Did the man’s hand shoot out. He snatched the phone from her grasp, glanced at it… and then grinned twistedly—

“So you have family too…”

The man pinched the glowing cigarette butt between his fingers and crushed it out forcefully. He tossed it to the ground, then sucked a remnant of last night’s food from between his rotten, broken teeth with a tilt of his cheek.

His other hand delved into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a dagger with serrated edges on the back. He leisurely extended it through the car window, grabbed Qin Yuan by the collar, and dragged her body halfway out.

Through the slits of her half-congealed, blood-stuck eyelids, Qin Qing saw the man’s movements. The glint of that dagger was even more piercing than the headlights of the truck that had just crashed into them.

Please… let me hear my daughter’s voice one more time…

Qin Qing couldn’t make a sound. Her throat was choked full of blood.

The man showed no mercy. His knife rose and fell without a blink.

With a squelch—

The dagger plunged cruelly into Qin Qing’s neck.

At the half-angled thrust, arterial blood sprayed out in a violent arc.

The phone finally stopped ringing. Qin Qing was dead. The last sound etched in her mind was one she would never hear again—Xiang Yu’s call of “Mommy.”

And that man lit another cigarette, standing by to watch, smoking one after another.

—

The most terrifying thing wasn’t the sky falling—because if it fell, it fell on everyone.

The most terrifying thing was when only your sky collapsed.

Xiang Yu’s sky collapsed on her tenth birthday.

In one night, her parents were gone, their deaths gruesome.

No one dared tell Grandma, but they couldn’t hide it forever. Grandma suffered a sudden heart attack and was resuscitated three times that night. The doctor said her heart was shattered; she didn’t want to live.

In the end, Qin Yuan took Xiang Yu by the hand, and together they begged the elderly woman tearfully. They’d already lost two loved ones; they couldn’t lose another.

Only then did they pull her back from the jaws of death.

But a shattered heart could never mend.

Qin Yuan held Xiang Yu as she cried, her sobs lifeless.

Xiang Yu cried too. She couldn’t believe it—yesterday, Mom had stroked her head before bed, promising to celebrate her birthday today. That morning, Mom had kissed her cheek before leaving. How, after just one night, were they both gone?

Xiang Yu thought maybe it was a nightmare, and she’d wake up to everything normal.

But she couldn’t sleep, no matter how she tried…

She felt her own heart had shattered too. Her crying was silent… but Xiang Yu knew that sound was no different from death.

Fortunately, there was Zhao Yu. During that time, Zhao Yu not only helped handle Xiang Nian and Qin Qing’s affairs but came every day to be with them.

Xiang Yu was grateful to Zhao Yu—not just for her company in those near-breakdown moments, but for personally capturing the murderer.

Zhao Yu said the man hadn’t fled; he’d stayed at the scene. The case processed swiftly—filed and sentenced to death almost immediately.

Zhao Yu came every day during that period, never leaving their side.

But Zhao Yu and Qin Yuan always seemed to avoid Xiang Yu intentionally, though they tried to play it casual. Xiang Yu keenly noticed—they were hiding something from her.

Yet Xiang Yu never asked, because… she was hiding something from them too.

It was premeditated revenge murder. The killer was the family member of a criminal Qin Qing had helped arrest. Moreover, Xiang Yu knew the true cause of Qin Qing’s death—slashed throat.

She’d even seen the photo of the dagger plunged into Qin Qing’s neck.

Zhao Yu had brought those files at Qin Yuan’s request for her to see.

They’d locked them in a drawer. Xiang Yu stole the key when they weren’t looking, examined everything, then locked it back exactly as before.

Xiang Yu pretended nothing happened, grieving only what they thought she knew. She hid it perfectly; no one noticed.

Until the day the man was executed—

Xiang Yu overheard her aunt crying in her room, finally breaking down. She couldn’t hold back anymore. She curled up in the corner of the bed, burying her face in her knees. That night, Xiang Yu cried her most heartbroken sobs, impossible to stop.

Only then did Xiang Yu suddenly recall the wish she’d made on her sixth birthday. She finally understood Grandma’s tears, her aunt’s silence, her parents’ exchanged glance and lack of response.

So life’s answers had been written long ago.

—

There were no red lights, no traffic jams on the road, but Ren Sanliu in the driver’s seat was so anxious she felt on the verge of low blood sugar panic.

In the information Su Huang sent her, one crucial detail stood out.

Fang Jianke was originally Fang Qing. He’d risen by wiping out his original wife’s family, seizing her company, and using her infertility to blackmail her into tolerating his endless affairs until she went mad.

But in their circles, that was nothing. The real issue was Fang Jianke’s father.

Attached to Su Huang’s info was a link to a nineteen-year-old legal column article. Fang Jianke’s father, Fang Bing, was a murderer. His brother had been imprisoned for rape and murder, then died of a sudden illness in prison. Fang Bing blamed the police couple who’d arrested him, ramming them with a heavy mining truck—and slashing the female officer’s throat.

Su Huang, fearing text wouldn’t suffice, called her—

“You’re not from Jingbei, so you might not know. Nineteen years ago, the internet wasn’t that developed, and news didn’t spread easily. After killing them, Fang Bing didn’t run. Hours later, he called the police to turn himself in. So he had the mitigating factor of surrender. To be blunt… he nearly got life. And that bastard even hired a lawyer—fuck!”

Su Huang cursed, then continued—

“Luckily, it blew up big time. A criminal’s family publicly retaliating against police with such brutal methods—the media frenzy made public opinion unanimous for the death penalty. It played a huge role; the judicial process sped up, and he was executed soon after sentencing.”

“Afterward, Fang Qing changed his name to Fang Jianke.”

When the line went silent, Su Huang thought the call dropped and asked—

“Ren Sanliu, you listening?”

“I’m listening… you… you…” Ren Sanliu’s throat was dry and hoarse. She repeated twice before finishing, “Do you know the names of those two officers?”

“The names… the woman was surnamed Qin, the man Xiang. Their daughter was only ten when they died.”

It all matched.

Ren Sanliu felt her blood freezing. She’d done something unforgivable—defended the son of her parents’ killer right in front of Xiang Yu. And this could utterly destroy her.

After hanging up, she stared at the flashing traffic light, digging her nails into her finger to force calm. She had to find Xiang Yu first.