Song Xingzhi lebte während der Regierungszeit von Kaiser Huizong

Kapitel 20

“He had a special ability: if you talked to him a few times, you would be irresistibly drawn to him, then feel sorry for him, understand him, and think that many of his irrational actions were justifiable. He was a charming man, very deceptive.” Jian Qiming took a sip of strong tea and said in a hoarse voice, then changed the subject, “Of course, his charm had absolutely nothing to do with his murder.”

"Oh, how did you know?"

"He won over every woman there."

“But according to their testimonies, they all disliked him. How can that be explained?” Jian Qiming’s argument was novel, and Lin Zhongjie decided to listen attentively.

"Of course that's what they say. But think about it, Fang Qi, although she dislikes him, once lent him books and even taught him how to use a computer. Zeng Yushan, although she always mocks him when she sees him, gave Su Zhiwen medicine when he had a cold. Although she left it on the floor, it was obvious that she bought it on purpose, and the receipt is still there. Fang Rouzhi was always good to him, as was Fang Xiaoxi. Su Zhiwen sometimes gave Fang Xiaoxi pocket money. A child will follow whoever feeds her, so of course she likes her great-uncle. As for Zhang Yufen, although she looks down on Su Zhiwen on the surface, she has never refused any request he makes. She remembers every casual remark Su Zhiwen makes. Once, Su Zhiwen said that he missed his mother's baked rice cakes, and that very evening, she made him a plate of baked rice cakes."

"You seem to have gathered quite a bit of inside information." Lin Zhongjie was annoyed at his own slow realization.

“Officer Lin, I’ve been dealing with this family for over a decade, and I know everyone there.” Jian Qiming paused. “On the surface, no one likes Su Zhiwen, but what’s the real situation? I’ve never believed in words, only in actions. I think they simply couldn’t bear to kill him; they loved him. So, I believe the person who killed him was first and foremost a man, and secondly, an outsider.”

"You still insist that it was done by an outsider?"

“Of course. It couldn’t be someone from the family,” Jian Qiming said, then suddenly gave Lin Zhongjie a meaningful look. “Actually, there were two outsiders at the dinner table that day.”

"One is you, and the other is Xiang Bing."

"But Su Zhiwen's death note says 'not Xiang Bing,' and he wrote those words. The bloody fingerprints identified them as his. How do you explain that?" Lin Zhongjie took a big gulp of strong oolong tea and couldn't help but curse inwardly. The tea from that old man Jian's family is extraordinary. Being a lawyer is definitely more comfortable than being a policeman.

"It is very likely that someone wrote it with Su Zhiwen's handwriting."

"That's possible. He had a motive, the time to commit the crime, and the strength to attack the victim."

“Attacking the victim doesn’t require much strength; all you need to do is stand behind him. Besides, the killer didn’t fight him bare-handed; he used a vase as a weapon. Anyone in this house could easily smash the victim’s head open with that vase.” Lin Zhongjie put down his teacup and said seriously, “Furthermore, if those words were written by Xiang Bing himself, wouldn’t that seem like a blatant attempt to cover something up?”

"He has a very obvious gap in his record; for a period of time, he was missing, wasn't he?"

“That is…” Lin Zhongjie nodded. He was about to say that everyone in this family had a blank spot, but Jian Qiming interrupted him. Lawyer Jian always liked to talk at length about complicated cases, and this time was no exception.

"He probably took advantage of the phone call to see Su Zhiwen walking into the storage room through the side window of the house. There's a window there, I don't know if you've noticed it. Climbing in from there allows you to avoid the living room and study, and you can also hide behind the stairs, where you can see the storage room door. He climbed through the window into the hallway, followed Su Zhiwen to the storage room, smashed his head on the back with a vase, pushed him against a large box, wrote those four words with Su Zhiwen's finger, then used a rolling pin to lock the keyhole and stole the painting."

Is it that simple?

"What's the motive?" Lin Zhongjie asked.

"The motive was what Shen Biyun said to Zeng Yushan. I later asked Shen Biyun, and she admitted that she had said some impolite things after Xiang Bing left. Xiang Bing may have heard these words, so he became angry and sought revenge." Lawyer Jian stared intently at an ashtray in front of Lin Zhongjie, as if he could see Xiang Bing's mask being burned to ashes.

"The process," Lin Zhongjie urged patiently. He got angry every time he saw Jian Qiming's confident expression. Over the years, he had seen that expression on that wise, chubby face many times.

“There are two doors in the basement. Su Zhiwen opened the first door and went down the stairs, then opened the second door to enter the storage room. The follower must have entered the first door only after Su Zhiwen entered the second door. Otherwise, Su Zhiwen would have discovered him in the stairwell. The space is too cramped; any slight movement would be noticed. If he had been discovered so early, he wouldn't have had the chance to attack Su Zhiwen in the storage room. Right?”

"Go on."

"After Su Zhiwen entered the storage room, the stalker followed him in. At this point, Su Zhiwen noticed the stalker, but he didn't realize that the stalker would threaten his life. He wasn't the kind of man who would be aggressive, so he didn't yell or shout. He probably just told the stalker to leave. The stalker must have tried to distract Su Zhiwen. For example, he pointed to a certain place and said, 'Look, what's that!' Su Zhiwen turned his head, and the stalker happened to be holding up a vase."

“If Su Zhiwen’s relationship with the others wasn’t so strained, he probably wouldn’t be wary of them. On the contrary, since he’s not familiar with Xiang Bing, he should be more wary of Xiang Bing, who is a man.”

“I only said that Su Zhiwen settled things with them, not that he believed them.” Jian Qiming held a cigarette in his mouth, as if savoring the tobacco. “I’ve talked to Su Zhiwen once or twice. Once, I asked him why he got divorced. He sat there, talking like a melancholy prince. He said his mother wanted him to become a postdoctoral fellow, but because of a girl, he didn’t even want to take the postgraduate entrance exam. Later, they got married, but soon he realized that the marriage he sacrificed everything for was just a dream. He didn’t specify what it was, but he said that seeing a familiar person in a strange place is a terrible thing, especially if the person is a woman… He really loves to beat around the bush.”

What do you think he meant?

“I guess he caught his wife on a date with another man.” Jian Qiming looked away. “He then told me that he’s terrified of someone backing him, especially women, because so far, it’s always been women who have harmed him—that’s his exact words. So, what I’m trying to say is that while he’s very capable with women, he doesn’t trust them. His wariness of women far exceeds that of men. So when he suddenly saw Xiang Bing in the storage room, he wasn’t more concerned that Xiang Bing was going to attack him, but rather that Xiang Bing might have mistakenly entered the wrong door while looking for the restroom.”

"Okay, when did he steal the rolling pin?" Lin Zhongjie asked, feeling that Jian Qiming's analysis was far-fetched and untenable.

"He sneaked into the kitchen and stole it when he climbed in through the window."

“Zhang Yufen was in the kitchen during that time. Even when she wasn’t, she was constantly going in and out. If Xiang Bing had gone to the kitchen to steal something at that time, he would likely have been discovered by Zhang Yufen,” Lin Zhongjie said steadily while smoking. “Moreover, the rolling pin was missing before dinner. Before dinner, Shen Biyun hadn’t made a move against Xiang Bing. According to you, Xiang Bing had no motive to kill.”

“There were no noodles on the dinner table that day, so there was no need for a rolling pin. How can Zhang Yufen be so sure that the rolling pin was lost before dinner?” Jian Qiming asked.

“It’s because we couldn’t find the rolling pin that we couldn’t make any noodles,” Lin Zhongjie said. “Zhang Yufen was planning to make dumplings that day, but around four or five o’clock, she discovered that the rolling pin was missing. So unless Xiang Bing sneaked into the kitchen before dinner, he had no other chance to steal the rolling pin. But that raises another question.”

"What's the problem?"

"Xiang Bing has never been to the storeroom. How did he know there was a large iron box there, and how did he know a rolling pin could be inserted into the keyhole?" This question seemed to stump Jian Qiming. He stared at Lin Zhongjie for a moment, then smiled and asked:

"Okay, if it's not Xiang Bing, who do you think it is?"

Lin Zhongjie calmly looked at Jian Qiming and said:

“We have thoroughly investigated everything. No outsiders entered the Shen family villa that night. So the murderer must be one of these people. We didn’t find Xiang Bing’s fingerprints on the broken vase. Of course, fingerprints don’t prove everything. In my opinion, Xiang Bing is not completely ruled out. He is still one of the suspects, but he is currently the last suspect.”

"Just because of the deceased's comment 'not Xiang Bing'?" Jian Qiming asked, glancing at him sideways.

"After he was hit on the head, he woke up briefly and tried desperately to escape, but he failed. He wrote those words while he was conscious. My opinion is that before he died, he carefully considered who the murderer might be, and the only one he could rule out was Xiang Bing. He wanted to say that a woman in this family killed him, but he didn't know who it was."

Jian Qiming slowly exhaled a smoke ring, and asked with a half-smile, "Who is your prime suspect?"

"That's why I'm here today." Lin Zhongjie stared intently at his old friend and asked, "I want to know, who is the traitor within the Shen family?"

Jian Qiming frowned slightly but did not answer.

"Is it Zeng Yushan?" Lin Zhongjie asked immediately.

"Don't speak carelessly."

“Our people have been to the university she attended, where she was known for her generosity and passion for charity. We did some research and found that she donated a considerable amount of money during her university years. Guess how much?”

"How many?" Jian Qiming wasn't curious at all.

"Around 250,000. Just a college student. According to our investigation, Shen Biyun gave Zeng Yushan 1,500 yuan a month in pocket money during college, and no more than 2,000 yuan in New Year's money. But Zeng Yushan usually lived a lavish life and was very generous. She was a well-known philanthropist."

“That’s very generous indeed.” Jian Qiming laughed heartily.

Is this normal?

"You suspect that Zeng Yushan stole things from home?"

What do you think?

Jian Qiming smiled and turned to look at him, saying, "Do you think I'll answer that question?"

"You fat bastard!" Lin Zhongjie cursed inwardly.

"Do you know what made me so sure the killer was someone from this family?" he said, barely containing his anger.

"What?"

"It's your attitude! Your cowardly attitude! You're protecting this family. I know you've been hiding a lot. You know the truth, don't you?" Lin Zhongjie stared at Jian Qiming's face, wanting to punch him.

Jian Qiming sighed and patted Lin Zhongjie's shoulder with his thick hand.

"If I had known the truth, how could I have let Ling Ge move into the Shen family's house?"

“Yeah, you fatso, I’ve never understood why you agreed,” Lin Zhongjie said.

“Because I also want to know the truth.” Jian Qiming stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, pondered for a moment, and then said in a low voice, “Maybe you’re right, the murderer is someone from this family. If we can get rid of this parasite, I don’t think it might be a bad thing. At least for Shen Biyun, it’s a good thing to have one less bloodsucking parasite.”

"But perhaps the murderer was Shen Biyun herself?"

“If she were the murderer, she wouldn’t have let Ling Ge live in her house.” Jian Qiming smiled at him.

"Enough with the nonsense, has Zeng Yushan ever stolen anything?"

“I don’t know if Yushan has ever stolen anything, but,” Jian Qiming paused before saying, “once Shen Biyun discovered that a small porcelain vase from the Republic of China era was missing from the antique shelf in the living room, so she ordered Fang Rouzhi and Zhang Yufen to search her room.”

"Did you find it?"

"I don't know. It's their family matter, and I shouldn't ask too much." Jian Qiming's expression revealed an inquiring intent to learn more. "You must have asked Zeng Yushan herself, right? What did she say?"

"I'm sorry, I have nothing to say either," Lin Zhongjie replied coldly.

Jian Qiming laughed: "She must have said that all those donations were asked for by Shen Biyun. Because no matter how much they argue, they are still mother and daughter, and when it comes to the crucial moment, Shen Biyun will still help her."

That's how it happened. When the police asked about Zeng Yushan's large donations, Shen Biyun immediately said that she had given Zeng Yushan about 250,000 yuan for charity. "This child is very persistent. If you don't agree, she will keep bothering you," Shen Biyun said.

No matter how Shen Biyun tried to evade and cover it up, Lin Zhongjie still believed that Zeng Yushan was the family's thief. Once she stole, she would definitely do it again; some habits are hard to break. Therefore, she was the most likely person to break into the storage room and steal the paintings. The amount of donations Shen Biyun revealed showed that she was aware of Zeng Yushan's actions all along, perhaps just turning a blind eye. But since she didn't explicitly say that Zeng Yushan could freely take things out of the house to exchange for money and donate to charity, Zeng Yushan's theft of paintings still had to be done secretly. So, imagine what would happen if she happened to run into Su Zhiwen while stealing paintings from the storage room?

Zeng Yushan denied ever knowing Su Zhiwen, saying she utterly despised him. Given that Su Zhiwen, whom she had always "bullied" at home, might seize this opportunity to blackmail her with leverage. Would she kill him in a fit of rage? The problem is, the rolling pin was clearly not stolen on a whim; it was premeditated. Did Zeng Yushan already know Su Zhiwen would go to the storage room? Or was she taking the rolling pin simply to deal with anyone who might catch her stealing?

Lin Zhongjie felt that the last conjecture was the most likely. Zeng Yushan was clearly a very combative person. For her, the rolling pin might have just been a weapon for self-defense, which later became one of the murder weapons.

10. Little Duck Hostel

The waitress at the Little Duck Inn was a middle-aged woman nearing forty, with a thin, long face and a cold expression. She sat on a rattan chair next to the counter, listening intently to a serialized story being broadcast on the radio while mechanically and rhythmically cracking sunflower seeds with her head down. She only looked up abruptly when Jian Dongping's Nike sneakers appeared next to the sunflower seed shells scattered on the floor.

"Looking for a room?" she casually tossed out the question, as if spitting out a spittle, and quickly went behind the counter, sitting up straight. Now, she was separated from Jian Dongping by the counter.

Jian Dongping did not answer her question, but instead asked gently, "Excuse me, is this No. 186 Xiaoya Lane?"

She frowned, as if she felt mocked.

“No!” she replied curtly.

Jian Dongping felt that what she actually meant was, "If you're not staying here, then get out and stop wasting my time!"

"So, what does the sign at the door that says 'Please enter if you want to join the Eight Joys' mean?" He didn't care about her feelings and continued to ask gently.

"Exactly, eating, singing, foot baths, playing cards... you'll know once you check in, whether you're staying or not."

"I see." Jian Dongping nodded, took a photo out of his pocket and showed it to the waitress. "Look, isn't this your place?"

The photos Zhou Jin took included the "86" advertisement outside the Little Duck Hostel. After a night of research, Jian Dongping had roughly figured out the connection between all the photos. He specifically selected two hostels to confirm his conjecture. Comparing them to the serialized novel "My Absurd Journey" that Nancy had sent him, and recalling what she had discussed in online chats, it seemed that these two hostels held special significance for her.

The waitress glanced at the photo and said, "Who took this? It's from our place."

“It’s a friend of mine. He introduced you guys to me. Um, that’s Ba Le. Let me try it out.” Jian Dongping noticed that the waitress was reaching for the photo, so he quickly put it away. He didn’t want her to grab the photo with her hand that had just been holding sunflower seeds.

"Your buddy seems to be a thoughtful person. You'll find out once you settle in." The waitress's attitude changed 180 degrees. Her face softened and swelled like thawed pork. Jian Dongping looked at her for a while before realizing she was smiling.

Jian Dongping decided to add fuel to the fire of this ambiguous atmosphere. He rested his arm on the counter, looking troubled, and said, "To be honest, ma'am, I'm most afraid of being lonely when I'm out and about. I'd even be happy to have someone to chat with, as long as it's not too expensive..."

“The price is negotiable, young man. Don’t let our small size fool you, we’ve been open for 10 years. We have everything you could want, and our prices are always fair. Didn’t your friend recommend us? Hehe, your friend knows his stuff. I’ll give him a discount next time.” The waitress pulled out a thin, hard black notebook with a “whoosh.” “Register me first, and I’ll talk to you when we get to your room.”

Jian Dongping randomly registered a fake name in the register.

"Do you need my ID?" he asked.

The waitress waved her hand, as if she thought he was a nuisance.

"Go upstairs, room 203. I'll bring hot water in a bit." She pointed to the lit corridor opposite the counter.

Jian Dongping carried his sleeping bag and luggage upstairs down the corridor.

The room was a bit dirty, like most of the small hotels he had stayed in.

A few minutes later, the waitress brought hot water, and her attitude became much more amiable.

“There’s a 20-year-old who’s good at talking and working. Whether she’ll stay overnight or when she’s younger, you can tell her yourself,” she said.

“My friend mentioned someone named Yanzi, can we call her that?” Jian Dongping asked.

The waitress laughed: "Your friend really knows his stuff. I'll call her over right now. Yanzi is the prettiest girl here."

"Come on, Yanzi is the ugliest prostitute here. Do you think I don't know?" Jian Dongping thought to himself.