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墨書 Inktalez
Zhao Mingkun's motorcycle couldn't carry three people, but fortunately, Jiang Xiaochun had her own car. I initially thought about riding with Jiang Xiaochun, but after some consideration, I decided against it.
Zhao Mingkun seemed puzzled and asked me why. I replied, "Jiang Xiaochun won't run away. I can guess what she wants to do, but things have come to this point, and perhaps this is her best choice."
Upon hearing my words, Zhao Mingkun didn't say much; I think she understood Jiang Xiaochun's intentions.
Zhao Mingkun drove his motorcycle behind Jiang Xiaochun's car. She drove slowly, and the short half-hour journey felt like it lasted a century. We passed through a park that appeared to have been neglected for a long time. The weeds grew as high as a person's legs, and we followed the path up the mountain.
Jiang Xiaochun turned back to look at us and said calmly, "Up ahead is Lu Zhiqiu's grave. I want to talk to her alone. There's a cliff ahead; I won't run away."
I looked at Jiang Xiaochun and asked seriously, "Have you made your decision?"
In her eyes, I saw helplessness and sadness. She was silent for a moment, then simply nodded lightly. She walked away toward the distance, her lonely figure lingering in my heart. After a moment, Jiang Xiaochun suddenly turned back and said earnestly, "Thank you, really."
I waved my hand dismissively.
"Are you just going to let her go?" Zhao Mingkun asked. "You know what she's planning to do."
I shrugged and replied, "What else can I do?"
Then there was a long silence. As I finished my third cigarette, Zhao Mingkun suddenly spoke up: "I hope you can give me such an opportunity in the future—to allow me to maintain a shred of dignity. I'm actually most afraid of trouble. Just like Jiang Xiaochun; that would be enough."
I took a drag from my cigarette and looked at Zhao Mingkun. "Why do you feel that way? Why do you think there will be such an opportunity?"
"Women's intuition," Zhao Mingkun glanced at me.
Half an hour passed.
I checked my watch and said, "I just texted Gu Chen to call the police in an hour to come here and arrest someone. Considering the time, the police should arrive in about twenty minutes. Let's go check on Jiang Xiaochun."
Zhao Mingkun looked at me and said, "Haven't you already guessed the outcome? Why bother?"
Looking at Zhao Mingkun, I nodded and said, "You're right; let's not go. She doesn't want anyone else around anyway. This place looks like it's been abandoned for ages; hardly anyone would come here."
A scene flashed through my mind: Jiang Xiaochun sitting alone among the weeds next to a grave mound. She would sit there talking to Lu Zhiqiu. Suddenly, a line of poetry came to mind: 'A lonely grave stretches for miles with no one to share its sorrow.' But perhaps that's fine; using Zhao Mingkun's words, if those who die become stars and the more people who miss them make those stars shine brighter—though Lu Zhiqiu's and Jiang Xiaochun's stars may not shine brightly—they would still be there together.
If they became stars, perhaps they could be together forever.
We descended the mountain, and Zhao Mingkun rode the motorcycle, taking me back. As we moved further away, my gaze gradually caught sight of the scene on the hillside. I saw the grave mound and a weathered tombstone, though I could no longer make out what was written on it.
Beside this tombstone, a figure swayed as if on a swing, their body rocking gently in the wind. But upon closer inspection, one could see that this person's rope was tied around their neck. This person was none other than Jiang Xiaochun.
In fact, I had already understood what Jiang Xiaochun intended to do when I was at her home. I also knew why she chose to act this way. To be honest, Jiang Xiaochun was a person who indiscriminately killed innocents; among those twenty people, only one could be considered a murderer, or perhaps there was no murderer at all. Yet Jiang Xiaochun had killed them all without exception.
These people might have been selfish; they might have once wished for Lu Zhiqiu's demise. However, they did not deserve death. They had their own families, their own children, and perhaps their partners were waiting for them to return home. But they would never come back.
Were these people selfish? The answer is undoubtedly yes. Yet selfishness has always been a part of human nature; no one is entirely selfless. Thinking of one's own interests has never been a shameful thing. Yet humanity always tries to gloss over its selfishness, desperately denying this inherent trait.
In this world, there is not a single creature that is not selfish; ultimately, it boils down to two things: survival and living better. Everyone strives for these goals and calls it "ideal." Jiang Xiaochun was also selfish because death is the easiest way to avoid trouble.
Once dead, she would no longer have to face the accusations from the victims' families or witness their tear-streaked faces. She wouldn't have to confront Hu's Mother or her own family. By leaving all the mess of living to death to resolve, some would inevitably say—she's dead; what more do you want?
Suicide may be the most selfish act in this world.
The ride wasn't fast; the wind felt cool against my face and quite pleasant. No one could have imagined that seven years ago, this incident would end in such a way, claiming so many lives as sacrifices for Lu Zhiqiu.
Zhao Mingkun sighed and asked, "Is this case really over?"
I nodded and then shook my head. "So far, everyone Jiang Xiaochun suspected has been killed by her—none were spared. It's unfortunate that among so many people, none could completely clear their names; none were innocent."
Hearing my words, Zhao Mingkun laughed. "How can such matters ever be clear? As long as someone is suspected, anything can become a reason for her to kill. For example, I could be the murderer because I'm jealous of Lu Zhiqiu's beauty and want to kill her. If someone wants to kill, what reason wouldn't work?"
After hearing this, I suddenly found it quite reasonable. So was it that Jiang Xiaochun couldn't uncover the truth or that she was simply too exhausted to continue investigating? This was a question—a riddle we would never solve. Did Jiang Xiaochun care about avenging Lu Zhiqiu or about her own feelings for Lu Zhiqiu? Was it merely an outlet for her pent-up frustrations?
Seeing that I had no response, Zhao Mingkun continued, "Back then, I would have done the same. After killing innocent people, I would create a necessary reason for their deaths to comfort whatever little conscience remained within me. A person can deceive everyone else but finds it hardest to deceive themselves."
Zhao Mingkun adjusted his collar with one hand. "But that's all in the past now; Jiang Xiaochun is dead too—it's like putting an end to the events of seven years ago."
"Is it really over?" I shook my head.
Looking back, the hillside had become just a dot in my vision; nothing more could be seen. Soon enough, the police would discover Jiang Xiaochun's body; I wondered if they would be able to determine that she was indeed the murderer in this case. Regardless of how things turned out—whether she ended up in prison or not—Jiang Xiaochun's ultimate fate would still be death; it amounted to the same conclusion.
Upon reflection, why did Jiang Xiaochun choose Deng Xuemei as her scapegoat? Why did she direct the police's attention toward Deng Xuemei? Ultimately, Jiang Xiaochun still hoped that the police wouldn't find her; she once wished to survive; otherwise, she wouldn't have gone through such elaborate means to create a false impression.
So when we ruthlessly exposed Jiang Xiaochun's fabricated scene and realized that she was the killer all along, she understood that after killing so many people, death would inevitably be her outcome. Thus, Jiang Xiaochun didn't want to face a trial before her death or endure the condemnation from those innocent families; hence she chose suicide.
Thinking of this, I couldn't help but smile wryly. Could it be that the most selfless person is actually the most selfish one?
"Is it not over?" Zhao Mingkun asked, puzzled.
I nodded and said, "That's right, this matter isn't finished yet. We still don't know who killed Lu Zhiqiu, and we also don't know who placed the phone in front of Jiang Xiaochun's new home. I believe that unless we clarify these two issues, this case cannot be considered resolved."
"But do we have any clues?" Zhao Mingkun asked again. "Regarding what happened seven years ago, concerning the murderer, we've been investigating for so long and are still going in circles. We don't know who last saw Lu Zhiqiu or who, in a fit of rage, killed him with a readily available brick. After all, if it was a crime of passion, anyone could be the murderer because anyone could act impulsively."
"No!" I shook my head and said, "In fact, we've overlooked something very important. Why must the murderer be one of those twenty people, the interns?"
Zhao Mingkun seemed to realize something, his voice becoming urgent. "What do you mean?"
I nodded heavily and replied, "We've been ignoring a crucial point that Jiang Xiaochun has also overlooked. Just because the students and workers live in different areas doesn't mean there can't be conflicts between them; in reality, that's exactly where the conflict arose."
"Workers," Zhao Mingkun said. "That adds more possibilities..."
I shook my head. "But there aren't many workers who would clash with students."
"Are you referring to those few workers who were preparing to kill the dog?" Zhao Mingkun asked.
I closed my eyes and said, "Exactly. The murder weapon wasn't found at the scene; someone must have taken it away..."
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