There was a laptop in Xie Xue's bedroom, and she was one of those eccentrics rarely seen in the modern world who didn't set a password on her device.
He Yu opened the laptop. His fingers flew across the keys, his almond eyes fixed on the screen. Line after line of code flashed in his dark gaze. A few minutes later, He Yu pressed the enter key with a long, slender finger. A passage of decrypted text popped up, reflected in his retinas.
"Looks like L isn't even a list of suspects anymore," He Yu said
quietly as he stared at the text in the dialog box. "As it turns out, the police already knew exactly who WZL was referring to."
Xie Qingcheng was striving to remain calm, but perhaps because he'd just been in the throes of such intense emotions, he was covered in sweat. His back tensed, and he stood straight as an arrow beside He Yu before bending down to look at the code on the laptop screen.
He Yu had intercepted three pieces of internal communications. The messages were partially coded, but since the two of them already understood some of what was going on, it was actually quite easy to guess their meaning.
"Wang Jiankang and Zhang Yong have been murdered."
"There's a mole, change the channel."
"Find the location of Lu Yuzhu's last signal. Hurry up."
Never mind Xie Qingcheng, even He Yu was dumbfounded. The last person was…Lu Yuzhu?
Lu Yuzhu was the most honest and straightforward person one could pick out of a crowd. She was a frank, chatty auntie in her forties who helped out in the school infirmary. He Yu and Xie Qingcheng had both gone to the university's infirmary before for one reason or another, and they had even spoken a few words with her.
How could it be her…?
At that very moment, next to one of Huzhou University's teaching buildings and close to where Zhang Yong had been murdered, Superintendent Zheng sat stiffly in the command vehicle. His panther-like eyes were thoroughly bloodshot, and all the policemen behind him were deathly silent.
They'd heard Zheng Jingfeng being berated over the phone by a man. The older officers knew who that man was, and even if the younger ones didn't, they could still get the gist of the conversation.
However, what had really rendered them mute were the two homicide cases that they had failed to prevent.
The flames were still raging; a group of police were in the middle of photographing, preserving, and collecting evidence from the crime scene.
Zheng Jingfeng opened the lid of his thermos and took a sip, forcing himself to calm down. "Are we still in contact with the informant who provided the intelligence report?"
His protege shook his head. "The informant hasn't shown themself since the guestbook was discovered and brought into the precinct. They said they were already in danger by then, and WZL was the last piece of information they could give us."
Zheng Jingfeng leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He heaved a deep sigh. Huzhou University's WZL were going to be murdered—this was what their informant had warned them about. While Jiang Lan Pei was the signal they had agreed upon.
But this mysterious organization was impenetrable. There were times when the higher-ups didn't even communicate with each other, and when they did, it was often through code. The informant didn't know what "WZL" meant when they relayed this message to the police either. They could only pass on this bit of classified information to their contact as is.
Zheng Jingfeng spent a long time using all sorts of investigative techniques and linking together all kinds of clues to finally crack the code:
WZL wasn't one person but rather three different individuals. This mysterious organization had used an intentionally misleading code.
As for the three people identified, they were Wang Jiankang, Zhang Yong, and Lu Yuzhu. All three were connected to the case and would be dealt with as part of the "cleanup" soon.
After cracking the code, the police had to protect the informant while simultaneously communicating with and protecting the three targets from the shadows. This was, in fact, a very difficult task. They couldn't tell the targets the truth, as that would alert the organization. They could only monitor them day and night, poised to act at the slightest sign of movement.
But even though the police were watching them around the clock, it was impossible to be on the targets' heels every single second. Besides, the informant only knew the approximate time they would be murdered, not exactly when the killings were slated to occur.
Wang Jiankang was a lecher who loved messing around behind his wife's back. Because of this hobby of his, he was already used to taking certain countersurveillance measures when engaging in his dalliances. He had been murdered in the school's hotel. On his way there, he'd gone to a dormitory building and swapped cars with a colleague. There had been a meeting at the university that day, so the teaching and administrative staff were all wearing the same uniform. After Wang Jiankang changed cars, the plainclothes policeman accidentally mistook his colleague for him. As a result, a little over an hour went by with no one watching him.
And an hour later, Wang Jiankang was throttled to death in the hotel. The murderer had subsequently put a pair of high heels on his corpse.
Zhang Yong was a cautious and cowardly person. Although he was greedy for money, he was afraid of repercussions. He might've also sensed that the organization's higher-ups didn't trust him anymore. The police had wanted to use him to get closer to the masterminds and promised to ensure his safety if he told them everything he knew.
But Zhang Yong was also wary, prone to overthinking, and suspicious toward anyone and everyone. When approached by a plainclothes officer, this singular moron immediately became convinced that the plainclothes officer was an impostor sent by the organization to test his loyalty.
Because he was dead set on protecting himself, he refused to say anything. In addition, to demonstrate his dedication, he even told his superior in the organization about what had happened that day.
After that, it became exceptionally difficult and dangerous to tail Zhang Yong. As the saying went, the mantis hunted the cicada unaware of the much-more-dangerous goldfinch behind it. While the police tracked Zhang Yong, members of the mysterious organization were likewise watching the police from better-hidden positions.
Therefore, the police's knowledge of Zhang Yong's whereabouts inevitably became less precise, in terms of both location and time. He had called the police several hours before he was run over, but after seeing the photo of Wang Jiankang's murder, he got worried that his phone's GPS would not only help the police find him but might also allow the organization to track his movements, so he threw his phone away.
Before he saw Jiang Liping, he'd still hoped that he might be lucky enough to escape disaster. As he hid in that deserted office, he'd thought that since there were no electronic devices on him that would allow him to be tracked, he might be safe.
But Zhang Yong hadn't anticipated that the organization had already planted a tracking device in the Buddhist amulet he wore around his neck…
The last living target was Lu Yuzhu.
Lu Yuzhu was the most intractable of the three.
Unlike the aforementioned greasy, lecherous men who murdered for money, she wasn't involved out of self-interest. Rather, due to her personal misfortunes, she held a deep grudge against law enforcement and society.
Lu Yuzhu's path into crime was highly unusual. Years ago, she had been the first female graduate student from her county. After finishing her studies, she returned home to give back to the place where she had grown up, becoming the secretary of her hometown's county party committee, then ascending to the highest political office of the county at a young age.
However, a few years later, an intern reporter came to the county from the provincial capital, hoping to make a blazing start to their career and brimming with simple ideas about justice. They had resolved to conduct a secret investigation of corrupt and illegal behavior in these villages, wishing wholeheartedly to break a viral news story.
Lu Yuzhu had a rather carefree personality to begin with. And since the county was a fairly remote locale, the anti-corruption workers found themselves inevitably at odds with the customs of the locals. While Lu Yuzhu's judgment was impeccable when it came to important decisions, there were times when she let a few small details slip. For instance, one of her relatives had accepted some monetary gifts from a government project. These gifts were small, more like a customary expression of goodwill among the villagers. At most, the present could have bought them a pig.
But that journalist brandished their pen and resolutely added a string of zeros to that sum of money.
How preposterous—how could such a little county have such a hugely corrupt official? Surely they ought to be suspended from their duties and thoroughly investigated?
If this story had been fact-checked in the first place, it would have been immediately apparent that this immoral journalist who brought eighteen generations of their ancestors to shame had written an outright lie. But Lu Yuzhu was unbelievably unlucky—the re-election for the county party committee secretary was coming up, and her opponent in the deadlocked race just so happened to have a relative who was best friends with the government worker heading this case.
The small village was remote, and its dealings were oftentimes shadier than what went on in big cities. After being framed several times, Lu Yuzhu ultimately found herself convicted on charges of accepting bribes.
Back then, she was still very young—her child had only been two years old, just barely able to mumble the word "Mom," when she was placed behind bars. By the time she got out, her husband had already found a new lover. Her daughter—looking fearfully at this unfamiliar, emotional woman before her from her stepmother's arms—no longer remembered her mother.
In the end, Lu Yuzhu lost all hope. She could only turn her back on her home and leave their little county.
The journalist thought that they had been disseminating justice by sensationalizing their report. The shady deals made in the lower-level departments of the county seat unbeknownst to the higher-ups, her husband's weakness and betrayal… All these events fell onto this woman as her burden to bear. A few sentences, a few sums of money, and the position of county party committee secretary were all it took to ruin the life of an ordinary person.
Because of her criminal record, it was impossible for Lu Yuzhu to find any good jobs after her release. She worked as a dishwasher, nursing assistant, housekeeper…but never for long. Once her employers learned of her past, they all ended up dismissing her, whether directly or discreetly.
When the hardest times hit, Lu Yuzhu turned to the world's oldest profession.
Among the various people who engaged her services, she saw individuals from many different occupations, including those who certainly shouldn't have been showing up somewhere like that.
In time, one of her clients noticed that she was very nimble and clever and didn't speak like an uneducated person, so out of curiosity, he asked her about her past. Lu Yuzhu initially hadn't planned on saying much, but everyone had their moments of weakness. That day, unable to restrain herself, she ended up telling her life story to this client under the dim lights of the private room. By the time she reached the end of her tale, she was sobbing too hard to speak.
The client thought for a while as he smoked a cigarette. Then he wrote down an address and told her that if she wanted to, she could go there and ask for his friend. That friend of his would arrange a stable and respectable job for her.
That was how Lu Yuzhu became a nursing assistant at Huzhou University's infirmary.
She had been working there for many years when, about two or three years ago, upper-level officials from the public security authorities came to investigate old miscarriages of justice. After looking into Lu Yuzhu's corruption and bribery case, they expunged her criminal record, detained and disciplined the journalist, and arrested the government employees who had been involved in the matter.
The young public prosecutor personally paid a visit to Lu Yuzhu to apologize and hand over her monetary compensation. A newly appointed staff member from the operations division of their county's public security authority was right behind him.
Lu Yuzhu had just finished retrieving medicine for a few students. Upon seeing the visitors, she smiled and said quite calmly, "The past is in the past. Keep the money for yourselves. I don't want it."
The prosecutor asked her why.
She looked at them coolly and said, "Do you think this money is enough to buy back somebody's life?"
Silence fell.
"My life has already been ruined, so what use is this to me? Can you let me go back to when I was twenty-five? Can you give me back my child, my husband, and my family?"
Neither the prosecutor nor the other staff member could answer Lu Yuzhu.
"Please leave."
But still, the prosecutor tried to convince her to accept the compensation.
"In that case," said Lu Yuzhu, "you should take this money and start a foundation or something to educate the media and ask them to be a little more cautious, a little fairer and more reserved, before they start writing about a person or issue. They're like locusts passing through a field—all too happy to brandish their pens and rake in the attention and money, but what do they leave behind for the people involved?"
She smiled—the erstwhile swiftest and most capable young female secretary in the county now had deep crow's feet.
"The answer is a lifetime of turmoil and suffering."
Someone like Lu Yuzhu would never rely on the police for help. If anything, she was innately predisposed to keep her distance from them—and on top of that, she supported and obeyed the organization unconditionally. So the question was, why would the organization want to "clean up" someone like her?
"Lu Yuzhu doesn't have any electronic communication devices on her person, but it's also possible that she's been using someone else's cell phone. We can't pin down her location." The police officer in charge of gathering intelligence was typing on a keyboard while relaying the situation to Superintendent Zheng. "Currently, there are 15,580 mobile phones receiving and transmitting signals in this area. It would be useless to locate every single one of their positions."
Another officer finished her phone call and approached the command vehicle. With a very solemn expression, she said to Superintendent Zheng, "Captain Zheng, we can't track her. Lu Yuzhu's ability to evade detection is the best we've encountered in the past few years. There's no doubt that she's been trained and was given a jamming device. Based on what we're seeing, only the very best fugitives could give her a run for her money."
Zheng Jingfeng said nothing in reply. His panther-like eyes were still staring fixedly at the spinning electronic children playing "drop the hanky" on the broadcasting tower.
That gaudy letter L looked like a curved hook that had been stained with blood.
L…
The old criminal investigator had been wondering this whole time, had they decoded the message incorrectly when it came to L? Perhaps it didn't stand for Lu Yuzhu. Why exactly would the superiors of such a devoted woman feel the need to murder her?
Out of these three people, she was the only one he felt uncertain about. Given the motives behind these murders, it didn't make any sense at all to kill Lu Yuzhu too.
However, no other targets had appeared.
Still, up until now, Zheng Jingfeng kept thinking… Could this letter L have some hidden meaning that they hadn't yet uncovered?