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Zhou Tuoxing and Xiao Chen got off work early today and decided to visit the precinct to see the commotion. Before long, Wang Yifei, who had also heard the news, showed up. Meanwhile, Wang Gaozhan stayed home to prepare a late-night snack.
The lobby was packed with reporters armed with various tools, waiting for interviews. The three of them, not wanting to jostle forward and risk damaging the equipment, sat patiently on the steps, waiting.
Recently, Wang Yifei had shaved his head bald and now wore a wide-brimmed baseball cap. The cap often blocked his vision, so he had developed the habit of tilting his head back and looking at people through his nostrils, an action for which Wang Gaozhan had scolded him several times.
On his way over, Wang Yifei, having just seen the news, made a point of buying cake and barbecue. Now, he was holding a bag in each hand.
After some thought, he handed half of the food to Zhou Tuoxing and then smiled politely at Xiao Chen, asking, “And who’s this?”
“This is my friend and business partner,” Zhou Tuoxing introduced.
Xiao Chen shook hands with Wang Yifei, smiling as he said, “I’ve heard so much about you!”
Wang Yifei realized he was referring to his previous involvement in a kidnapping scheme and gave an embarrassed laugh.
Zhou Tuoxing glanced at Wang Yifei’s round, shiny head and asked, “Can I touch your head?”
Wang Yifei weakly resisted, “No way…”
A faint layer of stubble had already grown in, soft and fuzzy.
After hesitating, Wang Yifei finally took off his hat and allowed them to touch his head gently.
The group waited for about an hour before Tao Siyue and Jiang Zhaolin arrived. The two briefly appeared at the entrance, saw that there was still no result, and left in a hurry, worried that the reporters might start swarming. Before leaving, they nodded in greeting toward the group.
Wang Yifei busied himself with arranging flower petals and played a couple of games with Zhou Tuoxing and Xiao Chen. Suddenly, the reporters waiting behind them began to stir, all rushing toward the staircase. Questions burst out as everyone’s voices competed to be heard, the loudest ones dominating the noise.
Wang Yifei, unable to stay still, ran to the back of the crowd and tiptoed to look inside. He saw Brother Huang surrounded by reporters, raising a hand to decline the microphones being thrust at him. He motioned for the reporters to keep some distance so as not to disrupt the precinct’s normal operations.
One reporter asked urgently, “Has the police obtained evidence in Shen Wenzheng’s criminal case?”
Brother Huang replied, “No.”
The reporters were stunned. The forceful manner of the arrest hardly seemed like the police had nothing to go on.
Another reporter raised a microphone high and directed it toward Brother Huang from above. “Then when will the police release Shen Wenzheng?”
Brother Huang responded coldly, “We won’t.”
The reporters were dumbfounded.
Brother Huang maintained a stern expression and said seriously, “Shen Wenzheng is suspected of a particularly heinous criminal case. Please wait patiently for the official police report.”
Because he was standing far away and the noise was overwhelming, Wang Yifei couldn’t hear clearly. When Brother Huang finished the interview, Wang Yifei returned, looking utterly bewildered.
Zhou Tuoxing asked, “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that? What’s going on?”
“It sounds like murder!” Wang Yifei exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. “Shen Wenzheng is seriously dangerous!”
Zhou Tuoxing and Xiao Chen stood up immediately and went over to the reporters to ask about the latest developments.
With the investigation still ongoing, there was no time for anyone to eat.
He Chuan Zhou stepped out of the interrogation room and went to find Zhu’s mother, explaining the entire case to her in detail.
Zhu Shujun’s deep and primal desire for money mostly stemmed from the discrimination that her mother had faced in the rural village.
She often talked to Sun Yiyao about life in Yanmu Village.
She spoke of households where, when an elder developed dementia, the children, disgusted by their unkempt state, would banish them to a damp, five-square-meter basement, serving food to them as if feeding livestock.
She also spoke of how delicious the bamboo shoots from Yanmu Village were. When her father was alive, he was exceptionally skilled at harvesting them.
She said her mother was not particularly attractive but had given birth to her and doted on her immensely since childhood. Unlike many other men in the village, her father never cheated on her mother despite her inability to have more children.
However, many villagers disagreed with their way of life, often gossiping about their family in small groups. After her father’s death, their financial situation became dire.
Her mother was once hospitalized after eating expired food that someone gave her. The medical expenses for the emergency treatment consumed nearly two months’ worth of their household budget. Even in pain and drenched in sweat, her mother insisted on dragging herself out of the hospital to avoid further costs.
The villagers adhered rigidly to traditional rules, tying family ties and monetary interests together, with everything clearly priced and quantified. While there were occasional moments of kindness, most of Zhu Shujun’s memories of the village were bitter.
Zhu Shujun’s words were a mix of praise and critique. Regardless of the tone, they struck a nerve with Sun Yiyao.
Sun Yiyao had never had a father who cared for her or took her to harvest bamboo shoots. Her parents preferred sons, and she grew up in an even poorer and more dysfunctional family.
She had grown used to making a living in the adult entertainment industry. The high income gave her a sense of achievement, lifting her from a state of hopeless inferiority.
Yet this very life was dismissed and scorned by Zhu Shujun.
She resented Zhu Shujun’s disarming honesty. The other woman had never truly understood her.
Despite both being at the bottom of society, Zhu Shujun still harbored dreams of a better life, while Sun Yiyao was left scattered and broken, with nothing to her name. This contrast only made Sun Yiyao’s already miserable existence feel even more tragic.
But why? Why was someone so ignorant and foolish still luckier than her? Zhu Shujun had even been in a position to marry a wealthy man but had self-righteously refused his proposal.
When Zhu Shujun spoke to her about this, Sun Yiyao didn’t say a word. What she felt was overwhelming anger and a cold emptiness.
Later, when Shen Wenzheng committed murder, he offered to compensate her financial losses in exchange for her help disposing of the body.
Tempted by money and long-held resentment, she agreed.
Sun Yiyao admitted to herself that she was a deeply selfish person. She had seen and faced the harshness of this world, and Shen Wenzheng was no exception, he was not a good man.
She knew Shen Wenzheng wouldn’t even touch the body himself, that his sole reason for involving her was to handle the disposal. So, she prepared a backup plan and betrayed him at a critical moment.
So many things, so many conflicts, always came down to money in the end.
By the time He Chuan Zhou finished explaining the case, Zhu’s mother seemed to have cried herself dry. She sat quietly in her chair, unusually composed as she listened.
When He Chuan Zhou finished, adding nothing extra, Zhu’ s mother nodded and murmured to herself, “What do I need all that money for? I don’t need much. I’ve been living just fine…”
She reached for He Chuan Zhou’s hand, gently pressing it against her face, pretending it was her last moment of closeness with her daughter.
But He Chuan Zhou’s hands were always cold, offering no warmth to the desolate mother.
After a brief moment of solace, Zhu’ s mother finally pulled herself away from the tangled emotions of love and hate. She let go of the hand, stood up, and bowed deeply to He Chuan Zhou.
Still hunched over, one hand gripping the back of the chair for support, she asked, “When can I take my daughter home?”
He Chuan Zhou reassured her, “Soon.”
After working non-stop for several days, the excitement of closing the case gave way to exhaustion.
She forced herself to finish her remaining tasks, handed over the rest of the materials to her on-duty colleagues, gave a brief report to Director Feng, and removed her badge to head home for some rest.
Exiting from the side of the lobby, she ran straight into Zhou Tuoxing and the others, who had been waiting for her.
Wang Yifei immediately took out a small cake he had brought, tore off the packaging, and held it up to He Chuan Zhou’s mouth. “Sis, eat up! You must be starving, working overtime all the time, it’s all because of that troublemaker Shen Wenzheng!”
Zhou Tuoxing’s attempt to speak was cut off mid-thought, and he shot Wang Yifei a rather resentful look.
Oblivious, Wang Yifei continued to fuss over her. “My dad bought a ton of food. Come to my place for a late-night snack!”
He Chuan Zhou replied, “Let’s do it tomorrow. I’m a bit tired.”
“That works too! Tomorrow at noon then? Are you planning to sleep in the morning?” Wang Yifei stuck close to her, holding up his pinky to give her plenty of room to refuse. “Can you share a little about the case? Just a tiny bit, Sis? Can I know?”
Zhou Tuoxing couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Wang Yifei by the shoulder, yanking him backward.
Wang Yifei stumbled, spinning halfway around. Thinking Zhou Tuoxing was about to say something to him, he barely managed to get out a “Big bro—” before Zhou Tuoxing tugged him again, shoving him toward Xiao Chen.
Xiao Chen gave him a disdainful click of the tongue. “Tsk!”
Still confused, Wang Yifei glanced back, only to see Zhou Tuoxing reaching out to put an arm around someone else. Zhou Tuoxing lowered his head and asked with concern, “Does your head hurt?”
Wang Yifei: “…” Unbelievable.
At 6 a.m. the next morning, He Chuan Zhou woke up. She called Zhou Tuoxing and arranged to meet him at the city loop bus stop. Together, they boarded the bus.
Every time He Chuan Zhou visited the cemetery, the journey felt unbearably long.
In recent years, new bus routes had been added, some going directly to the mountain’s base. Yet, she still preferred to get off at an earlier stop, walking over a kilometer and climbing halfway up the mountain. To her, this was the only way to make the visit feel complete.
Her father He Xu had once told her that the long walk was for remembering the person you were going to see. By the time you reached the gravestone, you’d already said what needed to be said in your heart, sparing yourself from lingering too long at the site.
“What’s so special about a cold, lonely gravestone?” he’d said. “Most of life’s feelings happen on the journey there.”
In previous years, apart from the few times Zhou Tuoxing accompanied her, He Chuan Zhou had always made this long, windswept trek alone.
Since He Xu’s death, she visited twice a year.
Once in summer, once in winter.
One trip under the restless rustle of summer winds, the other in the chilling stillness of winter.
But no one had accompanied her in years.
This time, though, it felt like stepping back into a summer from over a decade ago, walking side by side with Zhou Tuoxing once more.
The small convenience store and flower shop along the way were still there. Zhou bought a bouquet of flowers and handed it to her, or so she thought, until he gently clasped her hand as she reached for it.
The early morning sun was warm and tender as they made their way up the winding path.
The wind stilled, the fog dispersed, and the mountains blended seamlessly into the horizon.
By the time they reached the gravestone, He Chuan Zhou’s mind had emptied itself, leaving only a cool clarity as fresh as the mountain air.
She placed the flowers down and lightly brushed the dust off the gravestone before turning to leave.
Halfway down the mountain, a flock of birds suddenly took flight, their wings stirring a gust that roared through the hills. Startled by the sound, He Chuan Zhou turned to look.
Amid the towering trees, sunlight pierced through the scattered gaps in the canopy, weaving a golden path in the air where motes of dust floated like radiant specks.
For a moment, she thought she saw He Xu standing in the light, a police jacket draped over his shoulders, waving at her.
Zhou Tuoxing quietly watched her profile and, after a pause, said softly, “Let’s go. Time to head home.”
He Chuan Zhou smiled. “Okay.”
Tnote: Thank you for reading Crossroads! I will add the extras after Christmas. If you like my translation, have a novel you want to translate and some coin in your pocket, you can visit my Kofi to commission a novel, have a nice day!