SES Chapter 109 Part 1

Chapter 109

The bathroom in Zheng Shuiyu’s house was barely the size of a palm. Water was rationed so strictly it was as if they measured out a daily allowance—always just a weak trickle. Every shower left her feeling like parched ground after a brief drizzle: damp on the surface, but still dry and uncomfortable underneath.

That’s why this was probably the most satisfying shower she’d had in days—the water was plentiful, the temperature piping hot.

After drying off, she tore open a fresh pack of her underwear, then shook out Luo Ren’s clothes. They were neither new nor shabby, folded neatly, still carrying that clean-laundry scent.

She held them up against herself—way too big. The sleeves hung far past her arms. She pulled the shirt over her head anyway, and it felt like wearing a sack.

Lowering her head, she rolled up the sleeves and pant legs several times before stepping out the door.

She walked to the table and sat down. The chopsticks were right at hand. Mu Dai hesitated. After all, she was still a guest—she should wait for Luo Ren to say something before eating.

But instead, Luo Ren slid his laptop over to her and said, “Look at this first.”

Mu Dai lowered the screen a little.

Two open tabs. Two articles. Both about HIV—its mechanisms, symptoms, incubation period, transmission routes, and so on.

Her finger slid across the touchscreen, scrolling slowly down. Drops of water fell from her hair, landing near the glossy keys.

When she finished, she handed the computer back. Luo Ren set it aside and said, “I asked today. The central hospital can run an antibody test. If you’re worried, I can draw your blood and send it in. …Let’s eat first.”

Mu Dai ate in silence. Funny thing was, when she’d been starving, she couldn’t eat a thing. But once she put some food in her stomach, the hunger only grew.

Midway through, Luo Ren opened a bottle of liquor. Mu Dai grabbed a can of beer, downing half of it in one go.

They say long meals always hit a pause or two—what people call “eating fatigue.” You take a break, then go back for round two.

That half-can of beer marked the first pause. Mu Dai set it down, laid her chopsticks aside, and after a moment’s silence asked, “How’s everyone doing?”

“They’re fine.”

“And Phoenix Tower… is it open yet?”

“Yeah. The day it opened, it poured rain. Not a single customer showed up. Fatty Cao nearly cried.”

Mu Dai almost laughed. The smile barely formed before it slipped away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was crouched nearby, glaring at her, ready to scold: You still have the mood to laugh?

She asked again, “And Xiong Jian? Should be on the fourth piece by now, right? Any guidance from the Phoenix Luan Buckle?”

“No one’s paying attention to Xiong Jian,” Luo Ren said.

It was true. Everyone had let it slide, treating the whole matter as vague, baseless, irrelevant—neither urgent nor profitable, only dangerous and mysterious.

To do something, you need a motive or drive. They had neither. The fortune-teller’s metaphor fit perfectly: they were like mules tied to a millstone. Unless the whip cracked hard or they suffered a real loss, they just wouldn’t move. Yan Hongsha’s little “Phoenix Task Force,” born out of novelty and curiosity, had lost steam. Now, everyone was drifting back to their own business.

And besides, there were more pressing concerns now.

Finally, Luo Ren asked the real question: “Why did you run?”

Mu Dai said nothing. After a while, she picked up her beer and took another big gulp.

“My head just got hot. I saw the open window, thought I could escape, so I ran.”

“At first, you were very cooperative with the investigation,” Luo Ren said. “If you really wanted to run, it would’ve been easier back at the restaurant. No need to wait until you are at the police station.”

“Mu Dai, you were scared, weren’t you?”

She didn’t answer. After a while, she pushed her bowl away, leaned her arms on the table, lowered her head, and covered her face with both hands.

Luo Ren heard her sniffle. The tip of her nose was red, her teeth pressing lightly on her lip, but she wouldn’t uncover her face.

She wasn’t like before, when she’d cry whenever she felt like it.

Luo Ren pushed the tissue box toward her. “Don’t panic. Everything has a solution.”

Mu Dai didn’t look up. Still with her head bowed, she pulled out a tissue, wiped her face roughly, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the trash.

“There was an eyewitness. At first, I told them it was late at night, Ma Chao must’ve been mistaken. But later I found out, when they took the statements, a second witness saw me through the glass too—and said it was me.”

She reached for her beer again. The can was nearly empty, light in her hand. A shake brought only a hollow slosh. She set it back down.

There was still hard liquor, but Luo Ren wasn’t about to open it for her.

He asked again, “So what are you afraid of?”

Mu Dai kept her head down. “That night, I slept really well. Didn’t even dream. Slept so deeply that… even I can’t be sure.”

Luo Ren finished her thought: “You’re afraid that while you were asleep, in some unconscious state, you might’ve gotten up and gone out?”

“Because I have a record,” Mu Dai said. “Dr. He said I have a personality disorder. Sometimes I do things without even knowing it myself.”

“So, you’ve already sentenced yourself, haven’t you?”

Mu Dai neither admitted it nor denied it.

Her mind whispered: There are two witnesses.

One was Ma Chao, Zhang Tong’s thug of a classmate. The other was Song Tie, an employee at a hardware company. The two didn’t even know each other.

Two witnesses. Their testimonies matched. Both claimed they saw her that night, and both even described her clothing in detail.

Luo Ren chuckled. “Mu Dai, let me teach you a saying: ‘Don’t give up until you’ve reached the Yellow River. Don’t cry until you see the coffin.’”

Mu Dai looked up at him. “Meaning what?”

“Don’t go around thinking of yourself as guilty. Once you’ve made up your mind like that, you’ll overlook important details. I wasn’t there that night, so I can’t possibly know what really happened. That means it’s up to you to analyze it and remember.”