In the days following Zheng Jinmei's death, Zheng Xianwen was still in shock.
Coincidentally, the prison had invited an experienced policeman to give a lecture. Zheng Xianwen recognized him. The middle-aged man, sipping water as he spoke, shared his experiences and encouraged the inmates to accept reform and never give up hope, reminding them that life still held many possibilities.
Listening to the officer's steady and calm voice, Zheng Xianwen felt an inexplicable familiarity. He looked over with a steady gaze.
Noticing Zheng Xianwen's attention, the officer paused his lecture and asked, "Is something wrong?"
Zheng Xianwen shook his head slowly.
That night, he had a remarkably vivid dream, which was actually a clear recollection of past events. Revisiting these memories felt surreal, but he finally understood their deeper significance.
Half a month after Zheng Xianwen was imprisoned, Zheng Jinmei came to visit.
Separated by a glass window, Zheng Jinmei, after a long moment of contemplation, simply reminded him, "Make sure to eat well, okay?"
Zheng Xianwen's hair was cut very short, revealing a white scar on his forehead. He touched his stubbly head and nodded dismissively.
Leaning forward, Zheng Jinmei asked with concern, "Is anyone bullying you? Are they hitting you?"
Zheng Xianwen denied it, but Zheng Jinmei remained uneasy. She craned her neck, almost pressing her nose against the glass, trying to discern the truth from his subtle expressions.
"I heard that prisons are chaotic, with all sorts of gangs," Zheng Jinmei muttered, her lips quivering.
"Who told you that?" Zheng Xianwen couldn't hear her clearly but guessed what she was implying and frowned, "Stop believing those baseless rumors. Times have changed. Stay off the internet."
Zheng Xianwen glanced at the guard behind him and said, "There's surveillance everywhere now. Nothing serious can happen."
Zheng Jinmei nodded but seemed unconvinced. After a while, she asked again, "Do you all wear the same clothes? Aren't you cold in winter?"
Zheng Xianwen replied, "No."
"And is the food good?"
He rubbed his face and moved the microphone slightly away.
Knowing she had upset him again, Zheng Jinmei hesitated, then said weakly, "Please behave yourself."
Zheng Xianwen chuckled bitterly, "I have to behave wherever I go."
She wanted to retort that his disobedience was why he ended up here, but knowing he disliked being lectured and that it was pointless to say more, she changed the subject awkwardly, "I brought you some food, but they wouldn't allow it."
Zheng Xianwen, out of habit, snapped back, "Then why bother telling me?"
She turned her head to look at the other visitors, avoiding his eyes. She didn't like the piercing, tired look he gave her, and just sitting there was testing her emotional limits; she couldn't handle his negativity on top of it.
Since it all began, she had been enduring unexpected blows every day without a word of comfort.
Feeling tears welling up, Zheng Jinmei sniffed and said, "I should go now."
Watching her leave, Zheng Xianwen reached out to hold her but grabbed only air.
The image of her walking away played repeatedly in his mind, growing more vivid with each replay.
She probably still wore that old coat bought five or six years ago, the collar and cuffs worn out, its shape long gone, its color faded, a coat only she liked.
Zheng Xianwen called out, "Mom," wanting to tell her to buy herself some new clothes, but the scene had already shifted back in time.
In a small, dimly lit living room, the chaos of heavy footsteps was drowned out by harsh shouting and piercing cries.
Zheng Jinmei stood on the outskirts of the crowd, repeatedly shoved by several creditors, struggling to push forward each time, only to be pulled back by her collar.
The men dragging her were burly and rough, handling her with brute force. Pushed off balance, she twice hit the wall, her head spinning as she stumbled to get up and push through.
Seeing someone raise a knife to cut Zheng Xianwen's hand, she suddenly became agile, lunging forward and crying out, "Take me instead! Don't hurt him!"
Zheng Xianwen, beaten black and blue, managed a faint smile and tried to reason with his assailants, "Let's talk this out. No need for this. We live in a lawful society."
Zheng Jinmei clung to his head, sobbing uncontrollably, her tears falling onto his forehead. Her frail body trembled, terrified but refusing to let go.
Turning his head to avoid her tears, Zheng Xianwen, still dazed, said, "Business losses are normal. Give me another chance, and I'll make it up to you."
The farce ended only when the police arrived and knocked on the door.
Zheng Xianwen was carefully carried to the building's entrance by two officers, who waited for an ambulance. Zheng Jinmei stayed upstairs for a long time before shakily making her way down, nearly crawling to his side, gripping his hand tightly, terrified.
Zheng Xianwen glanced at her and squeezed her hand back, talking to the officer beside him.
The officer, annoyed, pointed at him, "Shut up. Look at what you've done to your mother!"
How could he have been so cold-hearted?
Each scene was harrowing, chilling.
Suddenly, he recalled an evening from first grade when Zheng Jinmei had to work late and couldn't pick him up.
With the school closed, he sat obediently under a streetlight, shaking his head at each passerby who asked if he needed help.
It was past eight when Zheng Jinmei finally arrived, looking haggard.
Dropping her bag, she was too guilty to speak.
"It's okay," Zheng Xianwen patted his chest, "I've grown up!"
Zheng Jinmei knelt before him, touching his face, "Have you, Xianwen?"
He nodded firmly, "Yes!"
"Don't need me to take care of you anymore?"
"Yes!" He clenched his fists, "I can take care of you!"
Zheng Jinmei's smile was radiant as she patted his head, "I’m so happy."
Then she hugged him and began to cry.
Zheng Xianwen's regret flowed like a spring finally finding an outlet.
If only he had always been that considerate.
Waking up, he found his face wet with tears. Wiping them away, he sat up in the silent room, waiting for the wave of sorrow to pass.
That night, he felt alive for the first time in a long while, only to quickly feel dead inside again.
His absurd, comical first half of life had finally ended.
He Chuan Zhou remained silent, waiting for him to speak again. When he didn't, He Chuan Zhou finally asked, "Do you think Han Songshan caused her death?"
Zheng Xianwen turned slowly, mechanically, and asked, "Isn't that obvious?"
He Chuan Zhou nodded faintly.
"At least he should bear some responsibility," Zheng Xianwen said, "He should be held accountable, at least partly."
Captain Zhang's voice broke the tense air with his deep, powerful tone.
"So, you decided to kill him?"
Zheng Xianwen replied, "I didn't intend to kill Han Songshan at first. I just thought he should pay a price."
Captain Zhang asked, "What were you planning to do then?"
"To truly hurt him, you need to attack his interests. His life revolves around money," Zheng Xianwen said emotionlessly. "After I was released, I didn't immediately seek him out. In his eyes, I'm a failure. Even if I did find him, he wouldn't take me seriously. At most, he'd put on an act of fatherly affection and spout his so-called wise insights. I couldn't stand his face. I had to wait for the right opportunity."
"Did you…" Brother Huang scratched his eyebrow, "Did you find it?"
It wasn't that he was deliberately mocking Zheng Xianwen, but most of what this man knew he had learned from Han Songshan. Not only had the old fox fooled him completely, but he hadn't even realized it at the time. His skills and strategies were nowhere near Han Songshan's level.
Zheng Xianwen laughed quietly, looking down, "After so many years by his side, even though he was full of lies, occasionally he'd let slip a few truths. Plus, he's so arrogant that he never hid his boasting from me."
"He despised Tao Xianyong while envying Guangyi's success. He often said that Tao Xianyong was essentially a morally corrupt person who loved to market himself as a philanthropist. He believed that his success was due to others' support, that his initial capital came from dubious means, and he was convinced that Tao's company wouldn't last long." Zheng Xianwen paused, then added mockingly, "See, it's the clash of the similar. They understand each other's baseness while being fully aware of their own shamelessness. They're cut from the same cloth."
Brother Huang quickly glanced at He Chuan Zhou, suspiciously asking, "Didn't Han Songshan and Tao Xianyong collaborate before? They didn't get along well?"
He Chuan Zhou tried to be objective, "Both were scheming for their own benefits. They had some shared interests, but not many. Being highly selfish, it's normal they fell out."
Zheng Xianwen, still looking down, lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and dark, "So, when I saw the news about Tao Xianyong's murder, I knew my chance had come."
Brother Huang was genuinely surprised, "So you had a hand in Guangyi's troubles too?"
Zheng Xianwen replied, "Would you keep tabs on someone you dislike? Especially if they’re more successful than you?"
"I wouldn't," Brother Huang tapped his pen on the table thoughtfully, "But I'm not a psycho. You can't judge others by your standards."
Zheng Xianwen shook his head, "Neither would he. He only knew about Tao Xianyong, not his family."