Outside, it wasn't dark yet, but inside, the room was already gloomy, with only the kitchen on the right
side getting some of the light that seeped in.
The bathroom was not far from the entrance, and the enclosed space, combined with the long-neglected
cleaning, caused an indescribable, stuffy smell to permeate the room.
After He Chuan Zhou entered, the cleaner turned on the wall light. However, the low-wattage bulb did little
to brighten the room, its pale-yellow light instead exposing the cluttered interior. Various mismatched
second-hand furniture pieces crowded into a space of less than ten square meters, creating an oppressive and
somber atmosphere.
He Chuan Zhou stood in the middle of the room, slowly looking around, without entering the cleaner's bedroom.
Retracting her gaze, she turned and asked, "You make four thousand yuan a month from Tao Xianyong; you must
have other jobs, right?"
The cleaner stood awkwardly behind her, lowering her head to tidy the clothes on the sofa.
She moved the piled-up clothes to a single wooden chair against the wall, freeing up half of the sofa.
However, the fabric surface revealed gray-black stains, dirty like relics from the last century.
She patted the sofa, removing some fine dust, and, feeling embarrassed, motioned for He Chuan Zhou to sit.
However, there was nowhere else suitable for a guest. Hesitating, she looked up and happened to meet He
Chuan Zhou’s eyes, exclaiming in surprise, "Ah?"
"Nothing," He Chuan Zhou lowered her tone, "I can sit anywhere. You don’t need to host me."
She pulled a plastic stool from the dining table and placed it opposite the sofa, indicating for the cleaner
to sit as well.
The cleaner moved two steps to the right, sitting against the sofa arm, slightly off-angle from He
Chuan Zhou, as if it provided a sense of security.
The cleaner kept her eyes lowered, while He Chuan Zhou observed her thoughtfully from the diagonal opposite,
her gaze landing lightly on the cleaner, causing her to feel uncomfortable and at a loss. He Chuan Zhou’s
silence only intensified the awkwardness.
The cleaner lifted her head, mustering the courage to ask, "Officer, how many more times will you come? I
really don’t know anything. It’s not that I don’t want to cooperate, but I get really scared when the police
keep coming to me!"
He Chuan Zhou asked a seemingly unrelated question, "How many people live in your home?"
"I…" The cleaner stammered, "My grandson comes for meals during holidays. My mother stays here when she
visits the city, but she’s been in the countryside recently."
"Oh." He Chuan Zhou’s gaze softened, and she even smiled a bit to calm the cleaner, "How much is your monthly
income?"
The cleaner opened her mouth, hesitating for a while before answering, "Before Mr. Tao’s incident, I earned
over ten thousand yuan a month. Sometimes, if I was busier, cleaning three or four houses a day, I made
more."
He Chuan Zhou nodded, "That income is actually quite good. Do you have any savings?"
The cleaner felt increasingly uneasy, frequently glancing at He Chuan Zhou.
She knew detectives wouldn’t casually chat about someone’s life without reason.
However, He Chuan Zhou’s demeanor and expressions were non-threatening, as if they were just friends having a
casual conversation, with no sign of aggression.
Despite He Chuan Zhou's overwhelming presence, her attempt to chat warmly exuded a unique female gentleness
and friendliness, effectively reducing the cleaner’s wariness.
After much hesitation, the cleaner finally looked straight at He Chuan Zhou, asking with a hint of
determination, "What do you really want to ask?"
He Chuan Zhou leaned forward, her voice gentle and slow, like a soft temptation, "I know Tao Xianyong helped
you a lot. People with a comfortable life might say life is a journey to enjoy and to learn to be content.
But for many, life is a race track. Living means pain and struggle. If you stop, you lose everything."
The cleaner shook her head, "You don’t need to tell me this. It won’t change my mind."
He Chuan Zhou leaned back, resting her right elbow on the dining table, sighing deeply, "I can look up your
information. But I don’t even need to check to know what kind of life you lead."
She recited the details of a deprived life, as if reading emotionless text, "As a child, your parents didn’t
support you. You didn’t receive much education, and you’re illiterate, so you feel anxious in unfamiliar
places. Shortly after becoming an adult, you married a man you barely knew through your parents'
arrangement, setting the course for your life. Each day consisted of eating, sleeping, working, surviving.
When your parents fell ill and your child grew independent, life only got worse..."
Her life was simple and monotonous, with most of its waves coming from mundane concerns, and her upbringing
left her unable to resist.
From birth, an unfree environment had determined much of her life.
The cleaner interrupted, "You guessed wrong."
He Chuan Zhou’s face showed a smile devoid of warmth, "I wasn’t finished."
She stood up, walking to the kitchen door with her back to the woman.
At dusk, the sun was setting, and the sky darkened abruptly.
Nightfall descended from above, casting dim light through the glass, drawing cold and lonely shadows on the
counter.
The air was heavy, making it hard to breathe.
"Even though you did the most, you received the least. And you didn’t even mind. Living in a daze all your
life, as long as you didn’t open your eyes, you muddled through. Serving your husband, caring for your
parents, raising your son. You treated them wholeheartedly, but when you got sick, no one was willing to
care for you."
Looking at the kitchen’s dishes, the greasy walls, and a few medicine boxes carelessly tossed on the sink,
He Chuan Zhou found fate to be quite ironic.
Neglected by fate, thrown away carelessly.
Whether the pain can be overcome or not.
Whether there’s a way out or not.
"You’re only in your fifties, not wanting to die is natural. You work while taking medicine. When you have
money, you go to the hospital; when you don’t, you lie at home. You call them, but no one wants to see you
because you spent the money on yourself. Your value in living has been depleted by yourself, so you don’t
deserve it."
He Chuan Zhou turned back, her face half in shadow, showing regret and sympathy. Her words were light but hit
like crashing waves.
"Right?"
The woman vaguely realized that she was as light as grass, easily overturned by the wind.
She lived like a blade of grass.
He Chuan Zhou’s soft voice easily evoked melancholy in the listener, "The traces of a single person’s life
compared to many people’s lives are obvious. Those clothes for the elderly and children on the sofa have
been there too long, covered in dust. The textbooks by the TV are from years ago. Putting extra bowls in the
kitchen and speaking louder won’t disguise the truth."
The cleaner was silent for a long time, wiping her face and murmuring to herself, "They will still come to
see me."
He Chuan Zhou’s words were relentless, "Rarely, and only with perfunctory concern."
The cleaner looked at her, sniffled, and pulled out a used pack of tissues from the pile of clutter, wiping
her face haphazardly.
She calmed her breathing, trying her best to control her emotions until she was left with only a facade of
calmness. She said to He Chuan Zhou, "I don’t want to talk to you about my hardships, and you’ve seen it for
yourself. If it weren’t for Mr. Tao helping me, I’d really be dead by now. He took me out to work and
introduced me to jobs. I used to work at his company as a cleaner. It was relatively easy daily, but the
salary was only a few thousand yuan at most. He said if I was willing to work hard, I could quit my job. He
would give me a minimum of four thousand a month, and I could find other jobs to at least double that. Mr.
Tao has always had a good reputation in our village. He’s willing to help his own people."
He Chuan Zhou half-squatted in front of her, watching her nervously twist the napkin in her hands, her tone
still gentle, "I know, people like Tao Xianyong, who are wealthy, won’t have much contact with you. He
treats you slightly better because he needs you to do things for him. Of course, this doesn’t mean he’s a
good person."
The woman’s eyes sparkled with tears, which made her previously dull gaze more lively. Her voice trembled
and was hoarse as she said, "Whether he’s a good person or not has nothing to do with me."
He Chuan Zhou asked, "What about you?"
The emotions the woman had just suppressed surged again instantly. For some reason, she felt an immense
sadness from these two words. Pointing at herself, she asked sharply, "What about me? I didn’t do anything
wrong!"
She took a deep breath and said, "Now everything I do is wrong."
He Chuan Zhou looked at her steadily, then took out her phone from her coat pocket, turned it off in front of
her, and placed it on the dining table.
The cleaner swallowed hard, staring at her actions blankly.
He Chuan Zhou said, "I told you, I’m here today as a private individual to chat with you. I won’t record what
you say or use it as testimony, but I hope you can tell me the truth."
The cleaner didn’t nod or shake her head, sitting there as if she had lost her soul.
He Chuan Zhou held her hand, and for a moment, the woman stiffened.
He Chuan Zhou gently guided her, "Every time Tao Xianyong left, you would go in to clean. You should know
what he did in that room."
The cleaner looked down at her, and after a long thought, she answered evasively, "His wife has always lived
in the countryside and hasn’t come to City A for many years."
He Chuan Zhou asked directly, "Have you seen that woman?"
The cleaner shook her head, "They only let me in to clean after they leave."
He Chuan Zhou: "Who has the key to that room? Does the security guard have one?"
The cleaner gradually calmed down, thought for a moment, and said, "No, only Mr. Tao and I have keys. He
might have given one to that girl. No one else should have one."
He Chuan Zhou tightened her grip on the cleaner's hand, asking word by word, "Was she there willingly?"
The woman licked her lips, feeling very dry, and answered evasively, "I don’t know."
He Chuan Zhou: "What do you know then?"
The cleaner said with difficulty, "A few times when I went in to clean, the bedroom was very messy. Once,
the security guard asked me to quietly bring in a bottle. When Mr. Tao died, he rushed into the room and the
first thing he looked for was that kind of bottle. I thought it was very strange. I asked, 'Is this for
taking drugs?' The security guard said no, it’s just a unique-tasting drink you can buy online. He said it
so calmly, I didn’t know. "I’m not really familiar with the security guard. I only know that his father and
Mr. Tao were best friends when they were kids, and now they follow Mr. Tao for a living."
"Okay."
He Chuan Zhou stood up, took her phone, and walked to the door. She was about to leave but then pulled her
hand back from the doorknob and confirmed once more, "You really haven’t seen that woman?"
The woman lowered her head, hunched her shoulders, and deeply stared at her hands, almost curling up into a
ball.
A bit of He Chuan Zhou’s warmth remained on the back of her hand.
After a while, her body began to tremble slightly. When she turned to look at He Chuan Zhou, tears streamed
down her face and fell on her hands.
"Once, I secretly watched her," the woman said, her lips pale, nostrils flaring, sobbing, "but I don’t want
to tell you."
He Chuan Zhou said, "She might not be the killer."
The woman laughed, her haggard face forming downward-sloping wrinkles that made her smile look bitter,
"Officer, when you lie, you’re not very professional."