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墨書 Inktalez
Zhang Jiawei's words made me feel as if I had stepped into a story by Jin Yong. According to Zhang Jiawei, the humiliation that comes from the mind is far more powerful than that which comes from the body. M, in essence, is entangled in this sense of shame and moral conflict to satisfy certain desires. Most of these individuals are under immense pressure in their daily lives, unable to release it for a long time, which ultimately leads them down this path.
During the time with the Beggar Gang, Zhang Jiawei would instruct Roland to provide services for those at the very bottom of society. Of course, Zhang Jiawei and Roland had certain principles: no one was allowed to touch or exploit Roland's body; she could only use her hands and mouth.
Otherwise, Roland would call the police and would never return. These beggars were not in a position to expect a normal sex life, so when a woman came to them willingly, they naturally did not refuse. They also adhered to their principles; during several occasions accompanied by Zhang Jiawei and a few times when Roland acted on her own, nothing beyond their agreed boundaries occurred.
As for the descendants of these men that Zhang Jiawei collected, he generally had a few commands: either to cover their bodies with these fluids, have Roland swallow them, or pour them into her own body. During this time, the beggars would utter some embarrassing and vulgar remarks, and the more they did so, the more excited Roland became.
The mission on Thursday was not much different from previous ones; the only distinction was that Zhang Jiawei suggested Roland spend a night with these beggars' descendants. However, just yesterday afternoon, Roland encountered Demon Boy Guo Guoqing while with these descendants.
When leaving the so-called Beggar Gang, it was unclear where Roland had gone next; without clarifying this point, it would be difficult to continue the investigation. Just as we were about to head to this address, Zhang Jiawei stopped us. She said, "This Beggar Gang is not somewhere you can just go; I have something to say about that."
We were puzzled and I asked, "Didn't you already give us the address?"
Zhang Jiawei shook her head and replied, "These beggars are usually scattered everywhere, living off begging. Most of them are men, and some engage in petty theft. If you approach them as police officers, I fear they will refuse to gather."
Upon hearing this, I realized Zhang Jiawei must have a plan. I continued along her line of thought: "So how can we meet these people?"
Zhang Jiawei sighed and said, "Once you arrive at this place, look for a small beggar on the overpass who is about seven years old. After finding him, tell him you are sent by Sister Zhang Jiawei and ask him to gather the others; he should comply."
As she spoke, Zhang Jiawei handed us a ring from her pinky finger. It was a peculiar yellow ring with intricate designs; I couldn't tell what material it was made of. Wearing it on her pinky suggested she wanted to remain single—she appeared to be an anti-marriage advocate.
"My relationship with Roland is complex; although most of the time I am her master and she is merely my slave, our feelings for each other... well, those who haven't truly experienced such emotions may find it hard to understand. I hope you find Killer soon; if you do locate him, please let me know."
In this world filled with countless emotions, there are many times we cannot empathize with others' feelings but can still understand them.
Following Zhang Jiawei's directions led us to a bustling urban area. Near an overpass, we spotted a seven or eight-year-old boy begging pitifully from passersby. The kind-hearted pedestrians couldn't bear to ignore him and often offered help.
"Brother, please give me some money! My mother at home needs medicine!" As I approached, the little boy stepped in front of me hesitantly reaching out his hand but afraid of dirtying my clothes. His pitiful face evoked sympathy.
If I hadn't learned about this boy's background from Zhang Jiawei, I might have thought something unexpected had happened in his family; if he were acting in a play, he could easily win an award for best actor. I didn't say much to him but simply took out Zhang Jiawei's pinky ring.
Upon seeing the ring, the boy looked puzzled and then stared at us curiously. "Isn't this Sister Zhang Jiawei's ring? How did it end up in your hands?"
Just as Zhang Jiawei had said, I nodded and replied to the boy: "This is indeed Sister Zhang Jiawei's ring. The reason it's with me is that Sister Zhang Jiawei asked us to investigate something. Now can you gather your people from the Beggar Gang? Sister Zhang Jiawei said that seeing this ring would prompt you all to comply."
The child nodded and then carefully examined the ring on my finger before saying to us, "Alright, I'll do it. You just wait here, and after I get things done, I'll come find you."
As he spoke, the child displayed a maturity and competence that belied his age. He quickly shoved his begging bowl into my arms and hurried away. We waited on the bridge for a long time, but there was still no sign of the child returning. Mary leaned closer to me and asked, "Do you think this kid is playing us? It's been an hour, and he hasn't come back."
I looked at the bowl in my hands and shook my head. "No way. This is his means of getting food; he wouldn't leave it behind."
Sure enough, before I finished speaking, the little beggar came running back. He waved at us from a distance, signaling for us to follow him. As we trailed behind him, we twisted through the bustling streets of the city, and soon the sounds of the urban crowd faded away. It was surprising to find such desolation and quiet just two streets away.
The little beggar pointed to a dilapidated building in the distance and said, "They are right there. You can go in now. Give me back my bowl; I need to continue begging."
I patted the boy on the head and pulled out fifty yuan to give him, but he insisted on refusing it. He said my money was different from that of passersby; he couldn't accept money from a friend. It seemed this little beggar had his own pride and principles. This was a good thing; it reminded me of a saying: a salted fish with dreams is no longer just a salted fish.
We entered the rundown building, and to our surprise, there were already about ten people waiting inside for us. They were all ragged, some with disabilities, while others were fully able-bodied. At the forefront sat an elderly man who appeared to be around sixty years old.
He was lounging on a tattered sofa facing the door, smoking a cigarette while holding a spittoon in one hand, looking quite eccentric. The other beggars stood beside him, some wielding sticks that made me momentarily think they were like ancient constables ready to shout orders.
The Old Beggar looked at me and asked, "Who are you? What brings you to my Beggar Gang?"
I was at a loss for words; I hadn't expected them to take themselves so seriously as if they were characters from a martial arts world. I had no choice but to be straightforward: "You all should know who Zhang Jiawei is; the little beggar must have told you about me. To be honest, I'm a private detective. Roland was murdered after serving you."
At this point, the faces of the beggars changed dramatically; they seemed resistant to such matters. However, it wouldn't do to act tough without taking responsibility. I continued, "We all know why Roland came here; let's not pretend otherwise. After she completed her task that day, did she mention where she was going?"
The leader of the beggars coughed twice and said, "Roland was also a remarkable woman in our Beggar Gang; she greatly enriched our lives here. Her tragic death cannot go unaddressed by us. Tell me, should we help?"
"Yes! We should help!" everyone shouted in unison.
"I won't dwell on what happened before," the Beggar Gang leader continued. "But does anyone know where Roland went after she left?"
I was utterly speechless; in this day and age, even beggars had their own corporate culture! What could I say? As long as they didn't break any laws, even if they referred to each other as 'Elder' or something similar, it wasn't something we could control. After pondering for a moment, I heard a beggar around forty years old say, "I walked part of the way with her."
We felt a surge of hope and quickly pressed for more details.
The beggar explained, "It was probably yesterday afternoon when she finished with us and was about to leave. I happened to be heading out for work too, so I walked part of the way with her. Along the way, she told me that she had met a new friend online that day—another S—and he claimed he was only fifteen."
The beggar blushed as he spoke, "I don't really understand what an S is, but Miss Roland said it's a master just like Zhang Jiawei. Roland mentioned that she has always been trained by women and is curious about what it feels like to be trained by a man, especially since this guy is younger than her and looks quite handsome in the photos."
"Fifteen? Handsome?" This sounded just like a description of Guo Guoqing. I quickly asked, "Did she show you a picture of this boy?"
The beggar shook his head and replied, "No, he didn't show me any pictures."
"Did she tell you anything else?" I continued to inquire.
The beggar shyly said, "I was worried that if she found a new S, she might not come back to us anymore. So I asked her where she was going and if she would still come back. Suddenly, she kissed me and said she would definitely come back. But now she can't continue walking with me; she has to go to the Prison Island Café to meet her new S."
"Prison Island Café?" I asked. "Are you sure?"
The beggar replied firmly, "Yes, I'm very sure—Prison Island Café!"
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