by Mi Lei
The second time they had met, the two of them stuck in a traffic jam, each tentatively testing the other.
As Fang Mu looked up, his eyes met Han Weiming's. For a brief moment, they exchanged a meaningful look that said everything. Then, Han Weiming stood up.
"Testing will commence at two in the afternoon," he said as he looked down at his watch. "Hm, just a few hours now."
Without another glance, he left.
That afternoon, the examinee Fang Mu underwent a polygraph test. The result was a clear and definite negative; the examinee had not lied and was cleared of all charges. Fang Mu was no longer considered a suspect in the Lu Village ancestral hall shootings.
It was a busy winter.
The anonymous report rocked Changhong City to its core and its shock waves reverberated throughout the entire province. A large number of high-ranking officials were investigated and prosecuted on charges of providing cover to, conspiring with, and accepting bribes from organized crime figures. Some were sentenced to long prison terms.
The report contained a video recording of the events at the Bay City Hotel. Jin Yongyu provided the final pieces of the puzzle and it was finally established that Xing Zhisen had told the truth all along. Jin Yongyu's testimony also confirmed that Ding Shucheng had been working as an undercover operative at the time of his death. In the light of this new evidence, it became impossible to reach a final verdict on Xing Zhisen's alleged plan to commit a homicide and the matter was left unresolved.
It was soon decided that Xing Zhisen and Ding Shucheng would be fully rehabilitated. However, the request of the Municipal Bureau to posthumously award the two men with a First Class Merit Citation for their heroic sacrifice was denied.
Jin Yongyu faced charges of child-trafficking, homicide, and of running an organized crime ring. He was sentenced to death and scheduled for immediate execution. At the end of his rope, Jin Yongyu appealed the verdict. He also incriminated Xiao Wang, outing him as a mole working for Liang Sihai. Jin Yongyu was hoping that his testimony would be enough to warrant a stay of execution.
A follow-up investigation revealed that Xiao Wang had amassed personal wealth of more than a million yuan. This alone was highly suspicious. During the internal investigation at the Suijing City Bureau, several officers corroborated the accusations against Xiao Wang.
Unfortunately for Jin Yongyu, Xiao Wang was already dead and so the court refused to classify his testimony as meritorious service. Jin Yongyu's sentence was upheld on appeal.
Liang Sihai's death left a gaping vacuum in the middle of Changhong City's underworld. Under his son's leadership, the once so powerful organization entered a spiral of decay. Eventually, Liang Zehao himself suffered multiple stab wounds in a gang fight. He bled to death on the street. That was the final blow. Within weeks, the entire organization collapsed. In the wake of its fall, the police were able to find the four missing girls and their families.
During questioning, the four girls readily provided a full account of the events at the Juyuan Steel Mill. Zheng Lin, Young Hai, and Little Zhan could finally rest in peace.
Lu Village was changed for good. When the villagers' immense wealth and leisurely lifestyle vanished overnight, most left to seek their fortunes as migrant workers. Few who ventured into the colorful world beyond the mountain ever returned to their native soil. Lu Haiyan also left the village with her mother. They ended up supported by welfare on the outskirts of Changhong City.
After Xing Na was finally laid to rest, Yang Min, Xing Zhisen's widow, adopted Lu Lu. The young girl was enrolled in Changhong City's No. 2 Middle School. Her testimony, together with those of the other victims, provided the police with vital leads. Assisted by Interpol, the traffickers' victims were rescued one by one. Local Chinese embassies and consulates arranged their return home.
After the early winter cold snap, the weather in Changhong City turned unseasonable warm. Climatologists were unable to provide a satisfactory explanation for the phenomenon. They could, however, predict that a very early spring would follow.
Cloudy, with a fresh southeasterly breeze.
Even though he was sitting in his jeep, Fang Mu could feel the warm spring air outside as he drove. The moment he rolled down the window, he was hit by the heady aromas of the fresh soil. It left him feeling pleasurably lightheaded.
He could not have been more relaxed. He took the wheel with one hand and let the other dangle out the window. The wind rushed through his fingers, a pleasant cool in the midst of warm air.
Whom could he thank for all of this?
The jeep approached the city center. The joy slowly drained from Fang Mu's face and he drew his hand back inside. He straightened his shoulders and sat upright. He looked ready for a promotion ceremony; or maybe a funeral.
A new monument had been erected in the Changhong City's central square. The city's populace had been asked to suggest a name for the monument and Fang Mu had heard that the entire central square would be renamed Heroes Square.
It all meant little to him.
He parked the jeep, got out and crossed the road. It was a regular weekday, but the central square was still packed. Wherever he looked, he could see people eager to enjoy the warm air. Here and there, giggling children ran with their multicolored kites, sending them bobbing on the spring wind.
There they were.
A square concrete platform stood at the center of the square surrounded by pines and cypresses. In the middle, resting on a marble base, stood a 10-foot-wide, 15-foot-tall steel ingot. Unpolished and raw, it towered above the plaza with unyielding dignity.
From where Fang Mu's stood, the ingot looked like a bullet, ready to pierce the sky and strike the heavens.
He wandered around the monument. Then, he stopped. Standing by its side, Fang Mu read the three names engraved into the marble.
Zheng Lin. Feng Ruohai. Zhan Hong.
The world began to blur in front of his eyes. Suddenly, a tidal wave of sorrow crashed down and threatened to sweep him away. Before he could fall, Fang Mu turned and braced his back against the ingot. The steel felt rough and strong; just like their hands had been, holding him up.
A gust of wind silently swayed the pines. As it brushed past the ingot, the giant lump of metal, for some unfathomable reason, rang with a faint roar.
Tears fell freely as Fang Mu leaned closer. He placed his ear against the steel. The ingot was not cool as he had imagined. Its surface felt ready to scorch his skin. He listened. They were shouting:
"Police, drop your weapon!"
"It's through and through. I'll live."
"Young Hai, fire!"
"One, two..."
Fang Mu sat next to the ingot. Listening to the weeping of the wind and the faint cries, he slowly closed his eyes.
The next day, he returned to work. As he walked up to the entrance, Fang Mu realized that he had not been here in months. He wouldn't have been a surprised to find his office covered in a layer of dust. Instead, he was confronted by a spotless desk. There was nothing on it, nothing except a single piece of paper.
It was Bian Ping's handwriting. "At 3:40 this morning, Jin Yongyu was executed."
Fang Mu stared at the short line of characters for what felt like hours. Finally, he ripped the paper to shreds and threw it in the waste bin.
He'd just sat down at his desk when the Director of the Personnel Department entered his office.
"Young Fang, you picked the perfect time to join us again." He was holding a file in his hand. "Come."
As Fang Mu followed him out in the hallway, he almost bumped into a young colleague. The fresh-faced officer was running down the hall carrying an electric kettle.
"What's all this about?" Fang Mu asked as he followed the trail of spilt water with his eyes. "Something urgent?"
"As if!" The personnel director stared at the water stains with a frown. "We've been assigned a new batch of recruits. There're a good few female officers in the group. I bet you can guess why those
idiots are tripping over themselves!" The personnel director smiled at him. "By the way, they're having a little informal meeting in the main conference room today."
"Oh." Fang Mu stopped. "I can't come. There are still a few things I need to finish up."
"Come on." The personnel director pushed Fang Mu along. "The director wants you to meet the young recruits. You speak their language."
There was nothing Fang Mu could do and before long he was bustled into the conference room. A dozen or so young officers in brand new police uniforms and full of nervous tension were sitting inside. Fang Mu greeted them with a nod. He was just looking for a nice and quiet place to sit, when he froze.
There, among the recruits, was a familiar pair of eyes. She was looking right at him.
Fang Mu could hardly believe it, but already he was smiling.
"Is it really you?"
(END)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lei Mi, formerly known as Liu Peng, a teacher of criminal psychology at China Criminal Police University, is well versed in both criminal psychology and forensic science. His career has given him insight into all sorts of crime, perhaps more so than most people learn in a lifetime. Having become known across the internet for psychological thrillers such as his Criminal Minds series, he has attracted countless fans. His major works include The Seven Readers (published as a serial novel from July to September 2006 in Legends from Today and Ancient Times: End of the Month Stories, and won their prize for best suspense story of 2006), Profiler, Skinner's Box, Blade of Silence, and City Lights. Lei Mi currently teaches in Shenyang.