by Lei Mi
Despite his arm being in a splint, as soon as Erbao set eyes on the bag of snacks on the floor, he sat up and reached for it, babbling excitedly. Fang Mu did not want him to exert himself too much, so he picked up the bag, handed it to him, and allowed the boy to gorge himself to his heart's content while he gently wiped his cheeks with the towel.
Sister Zhao eyed the contents of the bag and looked up at Fang Mu reproachfully. "You shouldn't have bought so much."
"You two will be here for at least a few more days." Fang Mu dropped the hand towel into the plastic water basin. "You need to get your strength back up."
"Well, we'll see about that." She gave wan smile as she watched Erbao happily stuffing his face. "I have to go back first thing in the morning. There's just too much that needs doing; I can't leave it all for poor Old Zhou to take care of by himself."
"No, relax. You need to focus on resting up and getting better." Fang Mu finished wringing the hand towel out and draped it over the metal bed railing. "I'm heading over there tomorrow to give him a hand. Oh, by the way, since when did you move your room up to the second floor?"
Sister Zhao grimaced as she massaged her right arm. "With all the ruckus going on lately from those demolition hooligans, Old Zhou and I thought it best to split up and each start sleeping on a different floor so that one of us would always be close to the children. Have you found out who did it yet?"
"The local precinct is on the case." Fang Mu paused. "They suspect it might have had something to do with the demolition and relocation."
Sister Zhao looked suddenly ill at ease. As she looked up at Fang Mu, her bottom lip quavered, as if she were about to say something.
"What's wrong?"
"Fang Mu, Teacher Zhou did not want me to tell you this, but I thought you should know." Her lips tightened. "Someone was trying to kill him."
"Huh?"
Sister Zhao gave a detailed account of how the man had come into her room and attacked her that night. As he listened, the frown on Fang Mu's face deepened into a scowl. He was just thinking of making a call back to the task force when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was Teacher Zhou.
When he answered, however, there was only silence from the other end of the line. Fang Mu said "Hello?" a few times before he finally heard Teacher Zhou speak in an unusually husky voice.
"Little Fang, do me a favor and look after Angel Hall. Look after the children..."
Fang Mu's heart sank. "Teacher Zhou, where are you?"
"...It was I who sowed this evil seed, so I'm the one who must take care of it." No sooner had he said the words than the call suddenly ended.
Fang Mu hastily tried to call him back, but Teacher Zhou had apparently turned off his phone.
Noticing the pale pallor on Fang Mu's face, Sister Zhao asked anxiously, "Is Old Zhou all right?"
"I think he might be about to do something stupid," Fang Mu said as he stood and ran out the door.
He sprinted all the way to the parking lot. When he had started the jeep and was reversing out, he saw Sister Zhao appear in his rearview mirror, hobbling toward the vehicle and holding her bandaged arm painfully.
Fang Mu rolled down the window and shouted at her. "What are you doing? Go back inside!"
But Sister Zhao kept coming. She opened the passenger-side door, climbed into the seat, and screamed at him. "Go! Go! Hurry!"
Fang Mu did not bother arguing. He finished reversing out, put the jeep in drive, and gunned the engine, sending the vehicle nearly flying toward the exit.
Two intersections later, Fang Mu suddenly did a U-turn, put on his police lights, and accelerated back in the opposite direction. When she realized they were getting farther and farther away from Angel Hall, Sister Zhao looked at him and shouted. "What are you doing?!"
Fang Mu gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on the traffic ahead as his foot pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor.
He knew exactly where Teacher Zhou was.
Teacher Zhou pushed open the Institute's spotless glass doors and headed straight for the elevator. The security guard at the front desk was halfway to his feet to stop him when he realized the intruder was the same old man at whom Director Yang had pointed and said, "...you are to treat him with every bit of respect you show me, understood?" So the security guard stopped short, and raised his hand in an awkward salute. Teacher Zhou walked straight past without even looking at him and disappeared into one of the waiting elevators.
He walked the familiar corridors of the top floor and easily located the Director's office. As he pushed through the door, he saw Yang Jincheng lying back in his chair, a facial mask draped over his face, meditating with his eyes closed.
The whole way there, the hatred had been building inside of Teacher Zhou with every step. When he saw the cleansing mask on his former colleague's face, that loathing threatened to boil over.
How dare you sit there worrying so much about your complexion after mercilessly killing all those people?
Teacher Zhou strode up to the desk and fixed his eyes on the ghost-white face. "You wanted to kill me, right? Well, here I am."
Yang Jincheng gave no response. When Teacher Zhou leaned closer to listen, he could hear slight snoring sounds coming from his nose. He was asleep.
Teacher Zhou could not believe how easy this was. His jaw set, he walked around to the other side of the desk and pulled a length of steel wire from his coat pocket.
This man had once been his smartest, most outstanding student. But without the slightest hesitation, Teacher Zhou looped the wire around Yang Jincheng's neck and pulled back on it with all his might.
The sleeping man abruptly convulsed and began struggling to break free. Teacher Zhou pulled on the wire even harder, until Yang Jincheng's body gradually went limp.
Tears flooded Teacher Zhou's eyes. He leaned down and whispered into Yang Jincheng's ear. "Our little Skinner's Box is no more, and the same is true of Angel Hall. A scientist who believes he is God will end up creating nothing but hell…"
A soft cracking sound came from Yang Jincheng's throat, and he stopped breathing.
Teacher Zhou did not let go of the wire for a long time. When he finally did, he stood slowly and let out a long, deep sigh, a sound that was at once relief and despair.
Reaching down to smooth Yang Jincheng's disheveled hair, he stared for a while at the face that would never wake up again. With a trembling hand, he began to remove the white facial mask. He had just lifted a corner of it when the door was kicked open with a crash.
Fang Mu rushed in, his gun leveled straight at the old man's head. "Don't move!"
Teacher Zhou stepped over to the large French windows, undid the latch, and swung them open. "Stay where you are!" he hollered over his shoulder.
Fang Mu glanced at the lifeless body in the chair and the wire looped around his neck. A chill ran down his spine. "Is that…Yang Jincheng?"
Hands on the window frame, Teacher Zhou nodded solemnly.
A chaos of thoughts raced through Fang Mu's mind. He lowered his gun and was about to say something else when he heard a shrill scream come from behind him. Sister Zhao was standing in the doorway with her good hand over her mouth, staring in horror at Yang Jincheng's corpse. When she saw Teacher Zhou standing in the open French windows, she took a step in his direction.
"Stay back!" Teacher Zhou let go of the window frame with one of his hands and leaned halfway out of the window.
Fang Mu grabbed Sister Zhao around the middle to restrain her, then slowly holstered his gun. He held that hand up for Teacher Zhou to see, five fingers spread wide. "Teacher Zhou, please, don't get too excited now. How 'bout you just step away from the window? Things aren't as bad as you think they are; I can help you. Trust me."
Teacher Zhou smiled a sad smile. "I don't want to be helped."
A frigid gust of wind ripped past Teacher Zhou into the office, mussing his hair and causing his shabby old coat to billow open. Beneath the leaden sky
, he looked like a dilapidated toy about to be tossed into the garbage.
Fixing his eyes on the old man's hands, Fang Mu took a careful step forward. The expression on Teacher Zhou's face made him stop dead in his tracks.
"Teacher Zhou…" he entreated, "Please, don't do anything stupid."
"Stupid?" Teacher Zhou laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "The sins I have committed in my lifetime amount to far more than mere stupidity! You think Yang Jincheng's crimes were unforgivable? Well, in fact, I am no different from him..."
"But think of Angel Hall. Think of the children!"
"I don't deserve to return to Angel Hall, even if I could." Tears streaked down the old man's weathered face. "I am a monster; this whole time, I've been treating them as tools with which I might attain peace of mind. But in the end, all I've done is hurt them, and leave them homeless once again..."
"I know, I know!" Sister Zhao suddenly shrieked. "Teacher Zhou, I heard what you said to Fang Mu that day... I don't blame you; I know all you were doing was trying to atone for what you did... And I forgive you... Truly I do..."
Teacher Zhou blinked in shock. A second later, a subtle smile of gratitude floated across his face. "Thank you, Little Zhao. You have given me a ray of comfort to take with me."
"Teacher Zhou!" Fang Mu and Sister Zhao shouted simultaneously.
"Listen to me!" Teacher Zhou barked, his tone suddenly strict. "Little Zhao, Angel Hall is beyond saving now. If you can, take the children to a new home, a home where they have enough food to fill their bellies and clothes to keep warm. Make them stay in school, so that they have a chance to stand on their own two feet someday. Can you do that for me?"
Sister Zhao was now sobbing so hard she could not respond. She just stared at Teacher Zhou, struggling to blink her tears away.
"Can you do that for me?"
With much difficulty, she finally nodded her head.
"Good." Teacher Zhou turned to look at Fang Mu. "Look after Liao Yafan for me, and drop in on the other children now and then. I know I deserve the death penalty for what I have done, but there was no better way to handle it. From now on, the Indoctrination Field Scheme is finished forever…"
"Teacher Zhou!" Fang Mu blurted. "Step away from there this instant, or I'll...I'll... You won't necessarily get the death penalty!"
"Fang Mu, do you still not understand? It's not that I cannot bear to face the law and be punished for my crimes." He shook his head as he stared at Fang Mu. "It's that I cannot bear to face myself anymore."
He pointed at Yang Jincheng's corpse. "The truth is, both of us should die." A subtle smile appeared on Teacher Zhou's face as he looked first at Fang Mu, then at Sister Zhao. Then he let go of the window frame.
With a shout, Fang Mu darted forward to catch him, but he was too far away. By the time he reached the window, Teacher Zhou was already halfway down the height of the building, his arms outstretched, plummeting toward the earth.
Sister Zhao was screaming. Fang Mu pushed past her and raced into the hallway, shoving aside the employees who had come to see what all the commotion was about. He dashed into the stairwell and took them three steps at a time all the way down to the ground floor.
Don't be dead! Please, don't be dead!!
A small crowd had already gathered at the base of the building. Fang Mu pushed past and threw himself to the ground next to Teacher Zhou's body. The old man's face looked peaceful as a large pool of blood slowly spread from the back of his head, staining the snow crimson. His eyes were half shut and slight spasms rocked his body. Each twitch caused a blob of blood-specked saliva to ooze from the corners of his mouth.
"Call an ambulance!" Fang Mu's voice cracked as he screamed. "Help!"
A few of the onlookers fumbled for their cell phones. On hands and knees, Fang Mu leaned over Teacher Zhou's ever more colorless face, unable to complete a single sentence.
"Just... just hold...on... An ambulance will be..."
Out of the corner of his eye, Fang Mu saw Teacher Zhou's hand move. Hastily he grasped the icy cold fingers and stared intently into his eyes.
Teacher Zhou's mouth moved ever so slightly, but no words came out. A moment later Fang Mu felt the fingers trying to squeeze his hand.
The tears finally brimmed and streamed down Fang Mu's face.
"I know." He held Teacher Zhou's hand tightly in his. "I promise."
The strength in the icy fingers gradually left. The corners of Teacher Zhou's mouth twitched upward, and he slowly closed his eyes.
Not long after, the ambulance arrived. The EMTs confirmed that Teacher Zhou was dead, then loaded Sister Zhao, who had come downstairs and fainted, into the ambulance and began to give her first aid treatment.
Fang Mu took off his coat and draped it over Teacher Zhou's body, then got his cell phone out and called the task force's main line.
"This is Fang Mu. I'm at the Institute of Psychology. Zhou Zhenbang has strangled –"
"The Institute director's assistant, Chen Zhe," an icy voice said right behind him.
Heart pounding, Fang Mu whirled around and looked.
Standing there, dressed in a white lab coat and with both hands in his front pockets, was Yang Jincheng.
Yang Jincheng wore a wooden expression as he stared intently at Fang Mu, whose eyes were wide with shock. In a low voice he said, "Come with me."
CHAPTER
36
Dust to Dust
Yang Jincheng stood quietly in front of the desk, looking down at the wire around the corpse's neck. He sighed, pulled a thumb drive from his pocket, and connected it to one of the computer's USB ports. After clicking the mouse a few times, he turned the monitor so that Fang Mu could see.
"Have a look for yourself."
Two video windows were open on the screen. In the first one, the assistant, Chen Zhe, walked into the office, seemingly on the pretence of delivering a document of some kind. When he saw that Yang Jincheng was not there, he glanced around for a moment, then casually walked over and plopped himself down in the leather chair behind Yang Jincheng's desk. He swiveled around in it a few times, then picked up Yang Jincheng's teacup and took a sip.
In the other window, the video was of Teacher Zhou strangling Chen Zhe to death, from beginning to end.
Fang Mu watched in silence, then walked over and peeled off the facial mask from the dead man's face. Sure enough, there was Chen Zhe, the assistant who had always stood humbly and respectfully behind Director Yang, awaiting his instruction.
"That right there is Mr. Z, the man you have been looking for."
"Why should I believe you?" Fang Mu gazed into Yang Jincheng's eyes, noting the dark circles around them. "Can you prove it?"
Yang Jincheng chuckled. "You should know the answer to that question. But if you show Jiang Dexian and Qu Rui a photograph of Chen Zhe and look at the expressions on their faces, you will be able to discern whether I am telling you the truth or not—and more than anyone else I have ever met, I believe you have the ability to read people's faces."
"So why did Teacher Zhou kill Chen Zhe?"
Yang Jincheng pointed at the dead man. "If you search through his pockets, you are sure to find a SIM card. He called Professor Zhou and told him that I was Mr. Z, so that the old man would come and kill me."
"Then what?"
"Chen Zhe always coveted my position as director—as you can see from the other video. He even tried to act like me, down to the tiniest detail, such as putting on my facial masks and drinking from my teacup. But unfortunately for him, I happened to leave some flunitrazepam in there, so after the poor fellow took a sip this time, he fell straight into a deep sleep. And thus, was killed in my stead."
Fang Mu was appalled and suspicious. "You left a date-rape drug in your own teacup?"
"Yes. I suffer from terrible insomnia, you see, and the only way I can force myself to sleep is to drink this concoction. I had prepared the drink; I just hadn't found the time to drink it and take a nap, that's all." Yang Ji
ncheng shrugged. "Do you feel my explanation is tenable enough?"
Fang Mu's face was ashen. He leaned forward, pressing his face almost up to Yang Jincheng's. "How are you going to convince me that you didn't engineer all of this?"
Yang Jincheng gazed right back at him without flinching. "I have no plans to try to convince you of anything. But at the same time, you have no way of proving that I did engineer all of this, am I correct?"
Fang Mu continued to glare at him for a few seconds, and then said in a deliberate voice, "You knew Teacher Zhou wanted to kill you, so you thought of a way to trick Chen Zhe into taking a sip from your teacup. Once he had passed out, you draped the facial mask on him, and then you waited calmly for Teacher Zhou to come and strangle him to death. For you it was two birds with one stone—you got rid of Chen Zhe, while forcing Teacher Zhou to kill himself. Am I correct?"
A vague smile danced across Yang Jincheng's lips as his eyes narrowed at Fang Mu. But it was neither a confirmation nor a denial.
At the sound of police sirens outside, Yang Jincheng walked over to the big open French windows and looked down. He looked over his shoulder at Fang Mu. "Your colleagues are here. As soon as they walk into this office, I plan on shutting my mouth and remaining silent. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?"
Fang Mu glared at him wordlessly and ground his teeth.
I've failed. I've utterly, completely failed.
"I see." Yang Jincheng grinned. "Then I will leave you with a final word of advice. Do not bother conducting any sort of investigation into me. You yourself know that at best, it would be a waste of your time."
Fang Mu felt as if all of his blood were rising to his head. Abruptly, he reached down and undid the safety catch on his gun holster.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Yang Jincheng admonished, as if confronted with an ignorant, impulsive young child. "Our eyes are not the only ones recording what goes on in this room. Surely you wouldn't be that foolish."