Yu Bai snapped out of her momentary daze, a desolate smile curving her lips. “It’s rare that you remember it so clearly—even I’ve nearly forgotten… the true meaning of the words ‘justice’.”
The dragon-slaying youth eventually becomes the evil dragon itself. Gaze into the abyss, and the abyss will gaze right back.
“Alright.” Yu Bai drew in a deep breath and glanced at the electronic clock hanging on the wall. “Now, let me tell you the next part of the story!”
She smoothed her furrowed brow. “This tale isn’t nearly as ancient as the last one. Starting from the end of April this year, a killer with extraordinary anti-detection skills emerged in Pingling City. He carried out precise murders without leaving a single trace—even orchestrating a flawless locked-room killing right under the noses of the police.
Bold and brazen, this murderer toyed with us completely, misleading us at every turn. He committed five cases, slaughtering six people without the slightest remorse. Perhaps he truly believed they all deserved to die.
But there was one exception: the little girl killed in the third murder. She was only four years old—the same age as Shao Yuan’s daughter when she died. She was Liang Jiaming’s daughter, Liang Xiaoxiao.
The killer murdered her with exceptional cruelty.
He sexually assaulted her, disfigured her face, severed her four limbs, and removed her ears, tongue, and eyes—a perfect replication of the gruesome state in which Shao Yuan’s daughter had died two years earlier. He executed it all with such meticulous care, as if performing some sacred rite of commemoration. His methods were escalating.
Yu Bai’s eyes turned pitch black. “Yet the very next case, the fourth, showed a sharp decrease in the victim’s premortem injuries—virtually no torture at all. Jiang Jiwen in the fifth case fared even better; the killer injected him with potassium chloride for a swift death. The intervals between crimes stretched out noticeably as well. None of this aligns with the pattern of a serial killer.
He was gradually losing the thrill of vengeance, the pleasure of torment. He no longer reveled in the killing or the suffering—he just wanted it over with, like a ritual he was compelled to complete. So what sparked this shift?”
Every officer in the room held their breath.
“That’s right—Liang Xiaoxiao. Guilt gnawed at him from within, tormenting him relentlessly. Under that crushing mental strain, he slipped for the first time.” Yu Bai paused for effect, then continued in a heavy voice. “Whether driven by remorse or some other impulse, the killer took the severed limbs and organs to the river channel where he’d dumped the body.
That lawless stretch in Guer District? No one dares wander the desolate riverbank alone at night.
It was the seventh day after Liang Xiaoxiao’s death—her ‘return night,’ as the old folk saying goes, when a soul comes back to the world of the living. He brought those grisly trophies to pay his respects, hoping her spirit could board the road to the Yellow Springs and reincarnate as human.
Perhaps Liang Xiaoxiao’s wronged soul truly returned that night, or maybe it was destiny at work. Either way, someone actually spotted him in that usually empty river channel—and snapped a photo.
But the folks in that neighborhood? Thieves, brawlers, all sorts of lowlifes cycling through the station every other day. They’ve got no love for the cops. Even if they saw something, who’d report it and invite the hassle? They might even get pinned as accomplices. So instead, they hawked the photo to underground informants.”
Across the interrogation table, Zhou Hui’s sharp ears caught the oddities in that account. Why take a photo in the first place? And why could he flip it so quickly to those informants?
Unless…
“He knows the killer?!”
The words burst from Zhou Hui’s lips.
Yu Bai blinked in surprise, then narrowed her eyes. A cryptic smile tugged at her mouth as she recalled the words she’d overheard at the bar in the dead of night.
…
A guy in a loud floral shirt—Yellow Hair—lounged on the sofa. “Sister Yu, I got the inside scoop on your River Channel Murder Case. Uncle Jiu says one of his delivery runners got hammered one night and staggered down to the riverbank to whoop it up. From way off, he spots this glow—like fire. With your big case all over the news, Little Sun nearly pissed himself in fright. But he creeps closer, hides in the bushes, and peeks.
“So guess what?”
Yu Bai arched an eyebrow, all ears.
Yellow Hair leaned in dramatically. “The punk actually recognized the guy—and knew right then this dirt would fetch top dollar on the street…”
…
“Exactly. The witness knew the killer.” Yu Bai’s gaze darkened to black. “And he was dead certain he could sell it because the killer’s identity would send those shadowy bosses into a frenzy—shelling out big for the intel. Because this killer? He’s a cop!”
!!!
“Moreover, he’s a police officer with a special identity.” Yu Bai’s gaze fixed on the one-way glass, her deep, dark eyes seeming to bore right through it. “He is…”
Bang—
“Don’t say it! Don’t say another word!” The door to the interrogation room burst open as someone slammed into it from outside.
Zhang Yunan’s voice chased after him from the observation room. “What the hell, Xu Zhixin? What are you doing?”
Zhou Hui and Han Wei both jolted in shock. It was the first time in City Bureau history that anyone had barged into an interrogation room and interrupted a session like this.
Zhou Hui frowned slightly. “Captain Xu, what is the meaning of this?”
Xu Zhixin completely ignored the two of them. His eyes locked straight onto Yu Bai, and he practically begged her. “Please, don’t say any more! Stop the investigation! The killer… it’s me.”
What?!
~~~
Half an hour later, Xu Zhixin sat in the City Bureau’s interrogation room. Handcuffs bound his wrists, his head hung low, and he said nothing.
Zhang Yunan stood at the end of the corridor, his voice booming over the phone so loudly that the entire building could hear it. He looked ready to explode.
“We checked everything, ran three rounds of alibis, and only then let him join the case. If Xu Zhixin is the killer, we’ll all be stripped of our badges from the Provincial Department right down to the City Bureau! … Director Zhou, hello? Hello? … Director Zhou…”
The group of officers in the office could feel Zhang Yunan’s fury even through the door. The heavy atmosphere instantly erupted into chaos.
Sun Ye’s jaw had practically hit the floor and still hadn’t recovered. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck—I racked my brain and never would’ve guessed the killer was Captain Xu!”
Another officer chimed in. “Who the hell could’ve seen that coming? Dismembering every victim into pieces and dumping the bodies in the river. It’s been almost a month, and he’s been working the case with us every day, cool as ice while analyzing the evidence. That’s not human—that’s a goddamn…”
The man trailed off midway, as if something had suddenly struck him. He choked on the rest of his words, let out a frustrated “Tch,” and fell silent.
Everyone knew what he was thinking about: Xu Zhixin’s motive for the murders.
The office went quiet for a moment. Half a minute later, the clamor started up again.
Zhou Hui leaned against her desk, hands tucked in her pockets, her long legs casually crossed. She frowned and stayed out of the discussion.
When she glanced up, she noticed Yu Bai leaning against the wall in the corner, her thin lips pressed tight in silence.
The rain had dimmed the office lights. Zhou Hui walked over and realized Yu Bai’s complexion looked off—pale and unhealthy. It made sense, though. She’d been up until the early hours last night, then downed drinks half the night. This morning, hungover and all, Zhou Hui had dragged her into yet another interrogation room.
For the first time, Zhou Hui felt like she’d been callous. Overcome with guilt, she grasped Yu Bai’s wrist to lead her into the office for some rest. But when her fingertips brushed that skin, she sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re burning up?”
She immediately pressed the back of her hand to Yu Bai’s forehead. It was scorching hot.
Zhou Hui bellowed across the office without hesitation. “Anyone got fever meds?”
“What?”
The chatter died down as all eyes turned toward her.
“Fever meds! Sun, you got any?” Zhou Hui jerked her chin at Sun Ye, who’d just been talking.
“Who keeps that stuff? Hey, anyone?” The others all shook their heads. Sun Ye threw up his hands toward Zhou Hui. “What’s wrong, Captain Zhou? You coming down with something? Your ironclad body’s got a fever? Mutated genes?”
“I’m pissed off. Fever pills’ll cool my temper.” Zhou Hui had no patience for his nonsense. “Come on, who has some?”
“Captain Zhou, I… I do.” Yang Pingfan rose timidly from behind his desk and pulled a bottle from his drawer.
Sun Ye darted over, snatched it, and checked the label. Sure enough, fever reducers. He let out an exaggerated holler. “Whoa! Flower, you even carry this? Tsk tsk, way beyond us mere mortals.”
He sauntered over and tossed the bottle to Zhou Hui with a sleazy grin. “Captain Zhou, take just a couple. That stuff… too much and it’ll dumb you down.”
“Shut your trap! Even if it dumbs me up, I won’t sink to your two-fifty IQ.” While Sun Ye pulled a long face, Zhou Hui called out to Yang Pingfan across the room. “Flower, thanks! I’ll get you a fresh bottle later.”
“Captain Zhou, you don’t have to… I have plenty more.”
Sun Ye shot him a look like he’d seen a ghost. Stockpiling fever pills in the office—were they his daily rations or what?
Too bad Zhou Hui didn’t hear. She’d already ushered Yu Bai into her office, pressed her down onto the sofa, tossed her a jacket, and finished the whole routine in under half a minute.
“Put this on. You didn’t even realize you were running a fever?”
Yu Bai’s head throbbed painfully. An outer jacket suddenly dropped over her head. She struggled for a good half minute before yanking it off, then pinched it disdainfully between two fingers and tossed it aside. “…How many days has it been since you washed this thing? At least half a month, right?”
“So damn picky,” Zhou Hui grumbled, but she still shrugged off her hoodie and handed it over. “Here. This is the only other one—fresh from the office this morning. Give me that one.”
The look of disgust on Yu Bai’s face eased slightly. Once she had it on, Zhou Hui had already slipped into the jacket Yu Bai had just maligned as unwashed for half a month. She fetched a cup of hot water from the dispenser and tipped a fever reducer into Yu Bai’s palm.
Yu Bai swallowed the pill languidly. Zhou Hui rubbed her nose, looking a touch sheepish as she finally spoke up. “Look, I’m sorry for dragging you down here out of the blue this morning. On behalf of the City Bureau, I apologize… and for last night too. My bad.”
Yu Bai had been simmering with frustration, and hearing Zhou Hui bring up last night set her off like a fuse. Fury blazed in her chest as she forced out a cold laugh. “You think one ‘sorry’ is gonna square away two messes? In your dreams?”
“…”
Zhou Hui knew she was still fuming. Anyone would’ve been pissed after being hauled into the station for no good reason first thing in the morning, and Yu Bai holding her tongue this long was already a miracle.
“So what do you want me to do? Flip the script and let you grill me instead?”
“Ha!” Yu Bai let out another icy laugh. “Even if you offered, I wouldn’t bite. Who the hell wants a look? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before at the hospital. Mark my words, Zhou Hui—you just wait. This isn’t over.”
The way she ground out the words made Zhou Hui’s lips twitch. “…”
For a moment, the office fell silent save for the rumble of thunder mingling with rain lashing the windows, punctuated only by their soft, steady breaths.
After a beat, Yu Bai massaged her temples. “When can I get out of here?”
“Get out?” Zhou Hui eyed her limp, fever-weakened frame with raised brows. “Where to? You’re burning up. Just chill for a bit and don’t go stirring up trouble. Nap here in the office. Later, I’ll run you to the hospital for an IV drip—no one’s home to look after you anyway.”
“To get the evidence! I still don’t have that witness photo.” Yu Bai sighed in exasperation, shaking her pounding head. “Xu Zhixin won’t cough up a single word beyond claiming he’s the killer. How the hell are we solving this case if we just sit on our hands? He says don’t investigate, and we drop it?”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than a sneeze hit her. She huddled deeper into the jacket.
Zhou Hui stepped closer, tugging the hood over her head and checking her forehead in one smooth motion. Yu Bai glared up at her, cheeks puffed out like an indignant koala.
Zhou Hui bit back a laugh—patients deserved kid gloves, after all—and schooled her expression into something serious. “You’re feverish, remember? I’ll handle the photo. Come on, hospital first for that IV.”
Yu Bai arched a brow, a sly smile curving her lips as a hint of color returned to her cheeks. “And how exactly are you gonna pull that off? That witness is one of Uncle Jiu’s guys. You show up? He might just lock you up for real today—let you sample what jail feels like for his son. You buying that?”
With a resigned sigh, Yu Bai pushed to her feet. “Fine, I’ll do it. I had morning tea lined up with him at the teahouse. If your crew hadn’t crashed my plans, I’d have the evidence in hand by now.”
She snatched up her phone, tapped away for a few minutes, then flashed a cheeky grin. “But you’re driving me. Fishery Port Restaurant—miles from here, and good luck hailing a cab in this downpour.” She jiggled the phone. “Room 207. Booked 208 next door for you too. I’ll record everything—you can listen in for whatever you need.”
By the time she’d finished, she was already at the door, crooking a finger at Zhou Hui. “Come on. Time for another story.”
~~~
