Unable to breathe

Chapter 11

He brought his skinny little tabby cat here to catch butterflies.

He would pull open the abdomen of the butterfly he caught without severing it, leaving its intestines still connected, and then release it so it could fly with its long abdomen trailing behind. He would also insert thin grass stalks into the butterflies' abdomens, letting them fly with the stalks; he would string two butterflies together by their tails, so they would fall down as soon as they took flight; he would string two, three, or four butterflies together by their tails with a long grass stalk, letting them fly in a chain; he would string a grass stalk vertically onto the abdomens of butterflies, then string another vertically onto their abdomens, letting them fly side by side; then string three together side by side and let them fly... In one afternoon, the mouse would create many, many butterflies that made him happy, watching them struggle until they died.

Watching them die, he forgot his fear and sorrow; watching them die, he forgot the bullying he had suffered at the hands of the doves; watching them die, he suddenly had many good ideas in his mind.

It was another arithmetic demonstration lesson. Teacher Hao was happily lecturing and asking questions, and the teachers from other schools were also listening with great interest. Just before the end of class, Teacher Hao wrote two homework problems on the blackboard and asked everyone to copy them down. When Bai Ge took her notebook and pen out of her desk, she screamed like a sow whose throat had been stabbed with a sharp knife, startling many students in the class who immediately stood up.

The white dove stood there, stretching out its right arm and stamping its feet, wanting to move its left hand but not daring to.

Teacher Hao rushed over to see what was happening and saw a huge iris butterfly crawling on her sleeve. However, this big butterfly only had a head and thin legs, and no body.

Teacher Hao was stunned and didn't know what to do. Then she saw several large butterflies crawling out of the table. They had large wings on their heads and feet, but no bodies.

The white dove turned pale and began to howl at the top of its lungs.

The whole class ran to see, and the teachers from other schools who were observing also came to see, and they were all dumbfounded.

In the end, it was her close friends who came over, picked up the bellyless butterfly, and threw it out the window.

Just as the class quieted down, the white dove started squawking like a pig being slaughtered again.

Teacher Hao got angry, walked up to her and said, "Are you crazy today? What do you want...?"

Before she could finish speaking, she couldn't continue, because she saw that the white dove's pencil case was full of the bellies of iris butterflies. Although those bellies had no heads or feet, they were still twisting and turning. Finally, their twisting made her heart and stomach twist along with them. She turned and ran out of the classroom, squatted at the door, and vomited loudly.

The boy, Mouse, sat motionless in his seat. He seemed oblivious to the screeching of the white doves, to Teacher Hao's vomiting, and to his classmates craning their necks to see the bodyless butterflies and their headless, legless bellies. His right elbow rested on the table, his right hand propping up his chin as he pondered: Why don't flowers bloom when it snows in winter? Why do people have to eat? Why are people always afraid? Why do Teacher Hao's eyes appear uneven when she's angry? Why is she, who's usually so fierce, afraid of butterfly bellies? Is there anything in this world she's afraid of? Why am I afraid of butterflies while she isn't? Why isn't she afraid of butterflies while I am?

If you believe you have no hope, even God can't save you. Only when you first have a strong will to live can you possibly overcome misfortune and suffering. And love is the most potent elixir of life we know of that can awaken the survival instinct.

On-site: He declared war on society in his mind.

June 29, 2003, was a Sunday. It was nearly 3 a.m. The city, which had been brightly lit and reveling all night, was exhausted and completely quiet. All the joy, happiness and love, all the troubles, misfortunes and disappointments had been buried in deep sleep. At this moment, a man called 110 in tears, saying that someone had been murdered in apartment 601, building 127, Yonghong Street, Gujing District.

The Municipal Public Security Bureau Command Center notified the Criminal Investigation Brigade of Gujing District that there was a murder case at Unit 601, Building 127, Yonghong Street. Since Captain Wang Liguo was on duty, he immediately led his team to the scene.

Wang Liguo later learned that when the police arrived, the door to room 601 was ajar, and it opened as soon as they pushed it open. Leaders from the Municipal Public Security Bureau, criminal investigation experts, and technicians had also arrived and were already investigating the scene. Photographers were taking pictures, and the fingerprint team was searching for fingerprints.

A pair of worn-out slippers sat outside the threshold. Wang Liguo glanced at them and immediately understood:

"So cunning!"

Sure enough, there was another mop stuck on the wall inside the doorway.

In the master bedroom, a woman lay face down on the double bed, her head facing east and feet facing west, clearly having been moved. Even more horrifying were the cans of peaches and apples beside her, their lids freshly opened, with two pairs of disposable chopsticks inserted inside; there was also a half-eaten plate of stir-fried tofu with green peppers, a salad of seaweed, a box of instant noodles, a bag of biscuits, half a bag of pickled vegetables in chili oil, two glasses, two beer bottles, half a roll of toilet paper, and a stack of CDs…

There were three other piles of playing cards. Closest to the victim were three bloodstained clubs, and opposite the three clubs were three bloodstained hearts. The remaining cards were placed in a separate pile.

Wang Liguo thought all of this was unnecessary! Why would anyone deliberately stage such a scene?

The technician pointed and reminded everyone that the victim's flesh-colored silk nightgown had been pulled up to her shoulders, revealing a large, clear, blood-stained character carved on her pale back. Everyone present stared in disbelief. None of them recognized the character; more accurately, none of them had ever seen it before. Many Chinese characters are familiar, even common ones, but you might not know how to pronounce or write them. The character on the victim's back was simple, so simple that it wouldn't seem unfamiliar to anyone, yet everyone who saw it shook their heads, saying they had never seen it before.

This character appears to be composed of three radicals, with a simple structure and few strokes.

Such unusual characters are not something anyone can write casually. If someone can write them, they must recognize them and know their meaning; they must be using them to express something. But to whom are they meant to express this meaning? To the victim, the victim's family, or the police?

Upon seeing this character, which looked remarkably like a Chinese character, Wang Liguo knew that he had finally met his match.

He later told me in an interview, "I couldn't guess what the word meant, but I could already sense the treachery and arrogance of my opponent."

After carefully examining the living room floor, he knew the murderer had left through the bedroom door.

Where did it come from?

Wang Liguo searched the living room, bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, storage room, and balcony thoroughly, but the murderer hadn't disturbed anything. There appeared to be incomplete footprints on the balcony windowsill, but they weren't clear under the flashlight beam, so he had to return during the day to investigate. However, a preliminary deduction was that the murderer entered through the balcony, which undoubtedly proved the case was more complex. The murderer was clearly no ordinary person; they possessed both intelligence and physical strength, which was troublesome! Why did they specifically choose the sixth floor?

Since the murderer had considered wearing the old slippers in the house and meticulously wiping away his footprints as he backed away, you couldn't expect to find any more valuable traces at the scene. However, Wang Liguo recalled a quote from Li Meijin, a professor of criminal psychology: "The absence of physical traces at a crime scene is itself a psychological trace." The murderer's actions left a psychological trace, indicating he was definitely not a first-time offender and that the crime was premeditated and planned. He even deduced from the strange character the murderer had written that the murderer couldn't be too young; and since he entered through the balcony, he couldn't be too old either.

Then it suddenly occurred to him: who discovered she had been murdered first? And who reported it?

The patrol officer from 110 told him:

"It was a man. He called the police from a public phone. He was crying so hard he couldn't speak. He hung up after giving his address. Was he afraid of being discovered by the murderer? I wonder if he's in any danger?"

Two detectives were left to guard the scene, while the others searched the corridor again and checked the nearest public phone booths, but found nothing unusual.

It wasn't until breakfast time that Wang Liguo knocked on the door of room 602.

The couple went to bed early last night and didn't hear any unusual noises. They recognized the victim in the bed as Lanzi, the 31-year-old single woman from apartment 601, whose parents lived in the new urban area.

The woman vomited and ran out. The man retreated to the living room and tearfully told Wang Liguo that Sister Lanzi got along well with them. She worked at a company and had divorced a few years ago and lived alone.

Two incomplete footprints were found on the balcony windowsill. The soles of the shoes had a wavy pattern, which, based on experience, resembled the sole pattern of low-top military-grade rubber shoes. Everyone deduced that the murderer entered the room through the balcony. Two more incomplete wavy footprints were also found on the awning of the fifth-floor balcony on the same side; the imprints were very faint.

There's a small aluminum window on the wall near the fifth-floor stair landing. Judging from the dust marks, both windows had been opened. There are scratch marks amidst the thick layer of dust on the windowsill, indicating the perpetrator clearly climbed through this window, went outside, stepped onto the awning of the fifth-floor balcony, and then grabbed the angle iron supporting the sixth-floor balcony to climb onto it. The perpetrator was very strong (especially in the arms) and daring; the entire climb was prone to failure, and a fall from the fifth floor would result in serious injury or death.

Based on this, experts determined whether he had worked as a scaffolder on a construction site or served in the military.

Wang Liguo examined the victim's left wrist repeatedly; there was a distinct light-colored mark there.

“The victim should also have had a watch. If she liked to take it off when she slept, it should have been placed on her bedside table, coffee table, or desk. I checked and there was none. I suspect the murderer may have stolen it.”

Through on-site simulation, technicians deduced that the perpetrator had stayed at the scene for at least two hours.

Wang Liguo wondered, why would the murderer stay for more than two hours? It's definitely not normal!

The landline phone in the living room rang.

The bureau chief asked Wang Liguo to answer the phone.

He picked up the receiver, and before he could speak, the other person asked urgently:

"Has he arrived yet, Lanzi?"