The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie

Chapter 126: Lesson 126: Luo Changde’s Memories of Fang Bao
 

In the afternoon, Luo Yinghe held a press conference where she tearfully apologized for the recent violent incident. Her studio also issued a statement, saying they would suspend all activities and actively cooperate with psychological treatment. Additionally, they established a charity foundation to aid mental health patients.

Then, massive amounts of internet trolls started pity-selling her story and building a positive image for her online. Of course, there was also a large group that wasn’t buying it.

The entertainment industry is just like this, get into a scandal and hide for a while. Once netizens almost forget, the tainted celebrity comes out to do charity work and wash their image clean for a comeback.

Luo Yinghe probably had to take this route too.

However, netizens were still quite happy, at least not having to see her plastic surgery-enhanced internet celebrity face for a while.

At six in the evening.

Xue Baoyi happily went to the hotel, where the hotel lobby manager, of course, recognized this god of wealth and bowed to welcome him in.

Xue Baoyi took off his tacky sunglasses, “Is the room ready?”

Secretary Xiao Zhuang, clutching a briefcase and following behind, had a face too round, chubby like a stump, with fair and tender skin, and a slicked back hairdo seeing even more ‘festive’: “Ready, boss.”

Half an hour ago, his boss specifically changed into a pink suit…

So tacky.

He usually dressed in a tough-guy style, always saying pink was for sissies, but today who knew what got into him, flamboyantly dressing in the very sissy pink.

Xue·Tacky·Baoyi, “Where are they?”

Xiao Zhuang replied, “All notified, they’re good friends from the Weaver circles, enough to make up two tables for mahjong.”

The Weavers referred to here were Fang Lixiang.

The boss today especially wore a saucy pink suit to play mahjong with the Weaver, and also called over six little flowers to add to the fun, Xiao Zhuang didn’t know which wire his boss crossed, nor did he dare to ask.

The cell phone ringtone sounded, it was Xue Baoyi’s.

He glanced at the number, it was a call from one of his fair-weather friends, inviting him, “Coming to play mahjong? We need one more.”

Xue Baoyi put his sunglasses back on his nose, striding with flair, “No.”

The fair-weather friend called out, “Come on, don’t be like that, it’s boring without you.”

Among Imperial City’s young masters, Second Young Master Xue was the most fun-loving, all the young lads liked to follow his lead. Normally he didn’t even have to call them; as soon as night fell, wherever the fun was, that’s where he’d be. But today, Second Young Master Xue seemed to have changed his nature, using an immensely disdainful tone to decline the invitation, “Why should I play mahjong with a bunch of crooked melons and cracked dates like you lads?”

Crooked melons and cracked dates…

Fair-weather friend fiercely retorted, “Fuck your mother!”

“Hmph~”

Xue Baoyi hung up directly and soon another call came in. He laughed upon seeing the number, and without rushing to answer, deliberately waited for ten to twenty seconds before putting it to his ear.

“Hello?” His tone was that of a bigwig.

On the other end, as always, meek, “Boss, it’s me.”

Xue Baoyi pretended to be confused, “Who are you?”

“It’s me, boss,” the other side introduced themselves, “Fang Lixiang.”

How could he not recognize her?

He could recite her phone number backward. But he thought about how this character had overly familiarly acknowledged a son in the game, and he simply had to dull her edge a bit.

His tone was that of a big boss, like a bandit king in a den of thieves, “What do you want?”

Fang Lixiang was very respectful, like a younger brother, “I’m afraid I can’t join you for mahjong?”

When Mr. Xue heard this, he was displeased, “Why not?”

She had to come!

He needed to clear his kidney’s name.

“It’s like this, boss,” the voice on the phone began to sound sorrowful, “You had arranged for me to come play mahjong at eight tonight, right? I went off early to keep our appointment, but I was so excited on the way downstairs that I couldn’t help but take a little hop.”

Sincere enough.

Xue Baoyi half-believed, “And then?”

There were sighs on the other end, “Then I broke my hand; I’m in the hospital getting a cast now.”

She was an acting queen on a typical day; Xue Baoyi didn’t believe her, “You’re trying to fool me, aren’t you?”

“Why would I dare!”

She was so wronged!

She said, “Wait for it, I’ll send you an MMS.”

Ding—

Xue Baoyi received an MMS, opened it to see that she really was wearing a cast, lying on a hospital bed, with two nurses by her side, her face pale and filled with pain.

Xue Baoyi paused in his step and didn’t move forward, “Really fell?”

“Yes, boss, my wrist is dislocated, and there’s a bit of a ligament strain. I can’t lift it now, can’t play mahjong anymore.” Perhaps she touched the injury, she inhaled sharply, bearing the pain while expressing her frustration and disappointment, “I’m truly sorry I can’t play mahjong with you.”

It sounded, a bit pitiable.

Xue Baoyi irritably ran his fingers through his hair, “Let’s do it next time.”

She was obedient and honest, “Okay boss, I hope you have fun.”

“Take care of yourself.” He of course wasn’t concerned about her, his bossy tone served up again, “Don’t delay filming!”

Fang Xiaodi promptly agreed, “Of course, of course.”

“Hang up.”

“Goodbye, boss.”

Xue Baoyi hung up the phone and turned around.

Xiao Zhuang quickly stopped in his tracks and turned to follow, “Not playing mahjong anymore?”

“Make a call to ask Fang Lixiang’s agent which hospital she’s in.” He was a bit anxious and walked quickly.

Xiao Zhuang didn’t know what had happened but hurried to call Fang Lixiang’s agent. Just as they got through—

“No need to call.”

That tone, it had a bit of grit to it.

Xue Baoyi stared at his own phone. On the WeChat page, a friend nicknamed ‘I’m Your Ancestor’ had sent him a message.

“Kiddo, hurry up, we’re flying to self-closure city.”

Xue Baoyi: “…”

Wasn’t his hand fractured?

A single cool character followed him through life: “Is your hand okay?”

A single cool character followed him through life: “You play games every day, doesn’t your hand hurt?”

Give her a chance to explain, better speak up well!

I’m Your Ancestor: “Hurts like a bird.” She was impatient over there, urging, “Hurry up and get on the game. Today I’ll definitely get you to the final circle!”

Xue Baoyi, suppressing the urge to punch someone, entered the game, and this round, they really made it to the final circle. Her skills were as good as ever, consistently landing headshots with every shot.

A fracture? A ligament injury?

Heh.

The next day, Xue Baoyi was on the headlines again, taking girls to a hotel, this time six of them. When these six girls were asked what they did at the hotel, they all unanimously answered—playing mahjong.

Oh!

The netizens finally understood and even made a heartwarming gesture—crowdfunding to buy Second Young Master Xue some health supplements for his kidneys.

Fang Lixiang also generously donated one yuan.

At seven in the evening.

The colleagues from the Criminal Investigation Team hadn’t left work yet.

Zhang Wen came back from outside: “Captain Cheng.”

Captain Cheng put down the lunchbox in his hand: “How’d it go?”

“Last Tuesday, there was indeed a cash withdrawal from Han Feng’s card, the amount just matches the cash found in Chen Li’s locker at the Zhu Feng Building, and, moreover, the nearby surveillance caught the two of them meeting.”

Vice Captain Xing looked at Captain Cheng: “Could it really have been Han Feng who did it?” He still felt Luo Changde couldn’t possibly be innocent.

Captain Cheng stood up to pour a glass of water, “Even if he did it, it was at the Luo Family’s instigation.”

The office landline phone rang.

Zhang Wen listened to the call and hung up before saying, “Captain Cheng, the blood found under Duan Xi’s fingernails has been tested.”

“Is it Chen Li’s?”

Zhang Wen nodded.

With both the blood traces and the murder weapon found, along with the cash for hiring a murderer, it was almost certain that Chen Li was the murderer of Duan Xi.

Once the forensic report came out, the Criminal Investigation Team brought in Han Feng for interrogation.

This was the third time.

This guy, whether he was a master of psychology or simply no longer cared for his life, confessed without reservation, calm and composed from start to finish.

“Go over the details of your crime again,” Captain Cheng demanded, looking into the suspect’s eyes.

Han Feng, wearing glasses, didn’t avoid the gaze for a moment, “On the night of December 3rd at nine o’clock, I lured Duan Xi to a guest rest room without surveillance under the pretext of official business, and I assaulted her.” He paused for two seconds and emotionlessly added, “With a pen.”

It matched the autopsy report for Duan Xi.

Captain Cheng tapped the table with his knuckles, “Be more specific.”

“I hit her, on the neck, face, thighs, oh, and her head was hit with an ashtray, but I didn’t r*pe her. She was disobedient and kept screaming, so I used the pen to stab her lower body.”

Han Feng’s confession was slow and measured, nearly identical to the first time he had given it.

“She said she was going to report me, so on the cruise ship I wanted to kill her, but she escaped. After the cruise ship wedding ended, I found Chen Li.”

Captain Cheng immediately asked, “Why Chen Li?”

“Chen Li was getting drugs from a friend of mine, she was heavily addicted but had no money. I promised her two million to kill Duan Xi for me.”

Captain Cheng didn’t speak, gesturing for him to continue.

“Not long after Duan Xi’s death, the police found her body. I was afraid of being exposed, so I planned to send Chen Li out of the country. But she got greedy and demanded another five million from me. I refused, only giving her two million, so she used the fruit knife that killed Duan Xi to threaten me.”

Captain Cheng interrupted, his gaze intense, “So you killed Chen Li too?”

Han Feng definitively said, “Yes.”

“Were there others present at Chen Li’s home at the time?”

“No.”

“You’re lying!” Captain Cheng threw the photo from the scene, stood up, and leaned forward on the table with both hands, his tone suddenly escalating and confrontational, “In Chen Li’s house, besides you, there is another person’s footprint. Speak! Who is your accomplice?”

Across from him, the suspect remained unflustered: “There is no accomplice.”

He responded with ease, showing none of the panic you’d expect from a person on trial, his argument and logic flawlessly woven.

“It might’ve been a friend or neighbor of Chen Li. They could have come in any time before or after I killed her.” He looked up, challenging Captain Cheng, “What does that prove?”

This guy must have rehearsed everything before turning himself in, not a trace was out of place.

Captain Cheng sat back down, suppressing the urge to beat the criminal senseless: “Then what evidence do you have to prove that you were the one who killed her?”

He stayed silent for a moment, then took off the watch on his right wrist and placed it on the table: “There should still be Chen Li’s blood on it. I got it on there when I killed her.”

“You got the victim’s blood on it and didn’t clean it, just so you could have it when you surrendered?”

He didn’t confirm or deny.

Captain Cheng picked up the watch, weighed it in his hand, and examined it for a moment: “This is Luo Changde’s watch.” That limited edition watch that was photographed on the cruise.

“He gave it to me last month.”

Captain Cheng glanced at his right hand: “Did you push Jiang Zhi into the sea?”

Without hesitation, he said: “Yes.”

“What was the motive?”

“He was on that level too. I suspected he saw something.”

“Suspected?” Captain Cheng ground his back teeth, “Just on suspicion, you decided to kill?”

Han Feng lifted his gaze, defiant: “Why not? Officer.”

Captain Cheng couldn’t hold back and threw a stack of files directly onto his head.

After leaving the interrogation room, Captain Cheng was still fuming.

Vice Captain Xing handed him a cup of coffee: “Was Han Feng’s testimony all lies?”

“Half-true, half-false.”

That was what he feared. If Han Feng was an accomplice, the half-true, half-false testimony would be hard to overturn.

Captain Cheng passed the evidence bag with the watch to Vice Captain Xing: “Take this watch to forensics for testing.”

Three days later, the results came back. The watch indeed still had traces of the victim Chen Li’s blood, and even Han Feng’s blood.

They had the murder weapon and the physical evidence.

The same day, Luo Changde’s lawyer requested his release. The police refused, citing Luo Changde as having given false testimony on behalf of Han Feng.

Luo Changde’s lawyer claimed Luo had not been wearing the watch on the cruise at the time and had given wrong timing, leading to the false testimony by mistake. He was prepared to take legal responsibility, and after a righteous proclamation, Luo Changde’s lawyer filed a request for bail, managing to get him out.

On Christmas Eve, Luo Changde was released.

Captain Cheng watched the beast leave the police station with a smile on his face and bit his teeth to hold himself back from chasing him down and beating him, looking to the people around him: “Just like that, we’re letting him go?”

Qiao Nanchu, arms crossed, resting one foot on the ground and the other on the chair, asked, “Otherwise?”

Captain Cheng was not satisfied: “The one who pushed Jiang Zhi into the sea and the murderer of Chen Li both wore watches on their left hand. But Han Feng is left-handed. He normally wears a watch on his right hand. That means it’s very possible that Han Feng only hired someone to commit the murders, and the real culprit behind both the sexual assault and murder of Duan Xi and the killing of Chen Li is Luo Changde.” The bloodstain found on Chen Li’s clothes from a watch reinforced this: its position and orientation clearly implied the killer wore it on the left hand.

Qiao Nanchu was unperturbed: “Personal habits can’t be used as evidence. He could just say his hand was hurting that day and he switched the watch to the other hand.”

That’s exactly what Han Feng had said! He didn’t even wait for the police to ask, he had plugged that hole in his own story.

Captain Cheng felt an urge to hit someone.

Qiao Nanchu unfolded his leg, began to flip through the files thrown on the table, and pushed them towards Captain Cheng: “Han Feng had gastric cancer surgery five years ago, and a month ago was diagnosed with a recurrence. His wife and child have already been sent out of the country by Luo Qinghe. It’s nearly impossible to get him to spill the beans on Luo Changde.”

Captain Cheng was in disbelief: “All this was manipulated by Luo Qinghe?”

“Yes.”

The thought was chilling—no wonder they say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Listening to all this, Captain Cheng felt an icy shiver down his spine: “So meticulously executed, this woman must’ve done such things more than once.”

Qiao Nanchu offered neither confirmation nor denial: “Each of her secretaries has never worked for more than a year. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

Qiao Nanchu stood up, patted Captain Cheng on the shoulder, and whispered in his ear: “Because they all ended up in prison.”

“…”

Captain Cheng felt a chill run down his spine.

Qiao Nanchu left the police station and made a phone call to Jiang Zhi: “Luo Changde has been acquitted.”

“Okay.”

He took out a cigarette, placed it in his mouth, and searched his pants pocket for a lighter. Lighting it up, he took a drag: “What do you plan to do?”

Jiang Zhi was in a car, and you could hear the sound of wind: “If honorable methods don’t work, then it’s time to take a different path.”

Qiao Nanchu smiled: “Like?”

Jiang Zhi coughed with playful weariness, her voice laden with lethargy as if it seeped into her very bones, lacking energy: “Like using some unorthodox methods.”

Qiao Nanchu jokingly scolded her for messing around.

“I’ve been messing around for more than just a day or two,” Jiang Zhi said, calling out to stop the car, then added, “No rush, the Luo family members have to be sent to prison one by one.”

That night, a crescent moon and a few scattered stars adorned the sky.

Across from the police station, a black Land Rover was parked. After Luo Changde bid farewell to his lawyer, he walked across to the Land Rover, checked the license plate, and asked the person in the driver’s seat, “Are you the driver called by Qinghe?”

The person bowed their head, a baseball cap hiding their face: “Mhm.”

Luo Changde then got into the car.

The Land Rover sped off, quickly getting onto the overpass.

In the back seat, Luo Changde closed his eyes for a brief rest. Around fifteen minutes later, he was awakened by the wind outside the window, yawned, and looked out.

The streetlamps glowed a dim yellow, and it was quiet outside.

Luo Changde suddenly sat up straight, “Where are we headed?” This wasn’t the way to the Luo Family’s home!

The person driving lifted their head, their face covered by a mask, and hit the gas, entering a tunnel. In the dull gloom, a chilling and cold voice came through, “The road to the Yellow Springs.”

It was a woman’s voice, low and cold, and sharp.

A chill ran down Luo Changde’s back as he lost color in shock, “Who are you?!”

The steering wheel was suddenly jerked, and the car turned into an underpass below a bridge. The person at the wheel turned around, wearing special glasses that made it impossible to discern the color of her eyes—just a dark mass.

The wind was loud, but her voice pierced through, “A professional errand runner, Z.”

Upon hearing this, Luo Changde’s complexion drastically changed.

The car stopped by the seaside, at the very stretch of sea where Jiang Zhi had fallen into the water.

Zhou Xufang unbuckled the seatbelt, turned around, “Have you heard of my name?” She had no intention of doing anything illegal or disorderly. It’s just that since Jiang Zhi had swallowed a few gulps of water here, she decided this fellow should drink some too.

Of course, she couldn’t expose herself.

So, she decided to deceive him, “Since you’ve heard of me, you should know I’m in the business of taking money to ward off disasters for others.”

Luo Changde, as soon as he heard this, immediately asked, “Who hired you?”

Who indeed?

She hadn’t thought that far ahead, “You guess?” Her forced smile made her seem like a female ghost.

Luo Changde, having heard of professional errand runners before, was terrified and spoke rashly in his panic, “Is it Luo Qinghe? Did she send you to kill and silence me?”

Murder and silence…

What apt words.

Zhou Xufang opened the car door, got out, walked to the back, and dragged Luo Changde out from the back seat.

The car was stopped close to a streetlamp, under bright light. Luo Changde, being lifted by one hand, was terrified, and when he struggled in panic, he looked up.

Only then did Zhou Xufang see his full face clearly. That face…

She was only startled for a moment before Luo Changde took his chance, stabbing the pen tip he had been gripping into her shoulder socket. The force left her hand, and he tumbled to the ground.

The pen had been plunged deep, blood seeping out and staining her clothes instantly, yet her eyebrow didn’t twitch as she pulled the pen from her shoulder and raised it to stab into Luo Changde’s back—

Suddenly, the headlights of a passing vehicle flashed—a glaringly bright light, like fire, like a raging inferno.

“Don’t scream.”

The man’s gruff voice was pressing.

“Don’t scream.”

“Don’t shout.”

“It’ll be over quickly.”

“You’ll soon be free.”

The firelight was too bright, blinding. She couldn’t see anything clearly, but faintly she saw a plump hand holding a hammer, striking repeatedly.

Bang, bang, bang…

Zhou Xufang’s hand holding the pen began to tremble. She staggered, the pen falling to the ground, blood still on her hand. She numbly lifted it up to her right chest.

It was a steel bar, a thick one being hammered under the hammer…

She could barely stand, staggering continuously. Behind her, Luo Changde got up from the ground, picked up a stone, and approached from behind, slowly lifting the rock—

Suddenly, his hand was grabbed.

He turned around, his eyes wide in shock, “Jiang, Jiang Zhi.”

Under the streetlamp, Jiang Zhi’s face was almost translucently white, yet his eyes were pitch black, matching the dense night behind him like an indissoluble spot of ink.

He seized the stone and without hesitation, smashed it onto Luo Changde’s forehead.

Luo Changde collapsed, blood pouring from his head.

Jiang Zhi dropped the stone and reached out to steady the staggering Zhou Xufang.

“Xufang.”

She turned to look at him, her pupils lifeless, about to fall backward.

“Xufang!”

She fell into his arms, her eyes vacant, as if unable to breathe, her mouth gaping, gasping, “There’s… a steel bar…”

Jiang Zhi saw the blood on her chest, and panic took over. He couldn’t hear clearly, so he removed her mask, “What’s wrong, Fang Bao?”

Her eyes were red, trembling in terror.

“Here,” she shook, taking Jiang Zhi’s hand and placing it over her chest, like a fish out of water, mouth agape, “here… a steel bar has been nailed…”

A hand was holding a hammer, driving the steel bar, bit by bit, into her chest.