SES Chapter 113 Part 2

Wu Yuping lived in a two-story house at the edge of a rural market under Nantan’s jurisdiction. The first floor was a small general store, with an e-bike parked out front.

Luo Ren got out to take a look. The battery had been removed, and the body was covered in scrapes.

He exhaled, then signaled to the others in the car. Looked like they’d found their woman. No need to check the other addresses.

As planned, Luo Ren would talk while the others stayed in the car.

But Mu Dai wanted to go too. Luo Ren hesitated. “She knows your face.”

“I changed clothes. I’ve got a mask and a hat… I just want to hear what she has to say.”

Even if it was bad news, she needed to hear it with her own ears.

Luo Ren didn’t stop her.

Wu Yuping’s husband was manning the shop downstairs. His leg wasn’t good, so when they asked for her, he didn’t move, just shouted up the stairs until she came down.

Wu Yuping, forty-six, looked much older—worn out by years of hard labor and night shifts. She hurried down with an armful of clothes still in her hands. “You’re looking for me?”

Luo Ren pointed at the e-bike outside. “Did you crash that bike a few days ago?”

Her reaction was startlingly quick. “You’re here about the bridge case, aren’t you?”

In small Nantan, news traveled fast. By the next day, everyone had heard about the murder. Wu Yuping had told her husband right away: “I was on the bridge that night! Almost got into it with some careless idiot—it was a close call.”

She’d repeated the story to neighbors and coworkers, who even teased her: “You should go report it to the police!”

But Wu Yuping wasn’t stupid—why bring trouble on herself?

She squinted at Luo Ren. “You guys cops? Don’t look like it.”

“We’re… friends of the deceased,” Luo Ren said.

Her expression softened with sympathy. “Poor thing. I heard she was a student. And they say the killer’s already caught—big guy, huge, took three men to hold him down.”

Luo Ren almost laughed. Rumors spread with uncanny detail—people even reenacted the arrest.

“But then what do you need me for?” Wu Yuping asked, puzzled. She gestured for them to sit in the living room.

Luo Ren explained, “We just want to understand what happened that night. Did you almost run into someone on the bridge?”

“Sure did! She came rushing at me like she was late for her next life. Ran right into my handlebars! If I hadn’t braked hard, I’d have gone down for sure.”

“And yet,” Luo Ren said calmly, “you did fall when you got to the other side?”

“That’s because that brat scared me so bad my arms and legs went weak. I lost focus and went down again.”

Her face hardened, still angry at the memory.

“At the time,” Luo Ren pressed, “did you see a young woman on the bridge?”

Mu Dai held her breath. Her eyes fixed on Wu Yuping’s lips, as if time itself slowed.

“Yes, I saw her,” Wu Yuping said.

“I got up and was struggling with my bike—it was heavy as hell—and she just stood there watching, didn’t even come over to help.”

Heavy? Was a bike really heavier than her heart at this moment?

Mu Dai’s breathing quickened. The mask on her face felt like it was suffocating her.

Luo Ren reached out and held her hand, then turned back to Wu Yuping. “Do you remember her face?”

Wu Yuping frowned. “It was a bit far, but I think so. I have some impression.”

Luo Ren pulled three photos from his pocket and laid them out on the table. “Please take a look.”

One was of Mu Dai. The other two he had picked from the internet—girls with long hair, slender builds, delicate noses, big eyes, even similar smiles.

Truth was, Luo Ren had been biased—he’d deliberately chosen ones who resembled Mu Dai.

Back then, Pocket had smiled so brightly, carefree. Not like now—either not smiling at all, or smiling in a way that hurt to look at.

Wu Yuping picked one up. “This one.”

Mu Dai felt Luo Ren’s hand tighten around hers in that instant, as if he feared she couldn’t handle it.

She turned to him, gently pulled her hand free, and said, “I’ll wait outside.”

Her steps were shaky as she left. At the door, she saw Luo Ren’s car with the window down. Yan Hongsha was waving anxiously, mouthing, Well? What did you find out?

Mu Dai looked away. She didn’t get in. She just kept walking back the way they had come.

Yan Hongsha’s wave froze midair, her face shocked. Yi Wan San and Cao Yanhua drove up, watching Mu Dai’s retreating figure. They wanted to call out, but stayed silent.

Cao Yanhua muttered, “This is bad. Real bad…”

Luo Ren came out too, his face grim. He slid into the driver’s seat. “Where’s Mu Dai?”

No one dared answer. Yan Hongsha pointed to the road.

Luo Ren started the engine, turned around, and slowly drove after her.

The dirt road kicked up dust with every gust of wind. Rice fields stretched endlessly on both sides, rolling like waves with no shore in sight.

Mu Dai looked so thin. She must have lost weight the past days. Such a frail back, such narrow shoulders—one arm would be enough to hold her close.

She stopped when she heard the car behind her.

Luo Ren pulled up beside her, rolled the window down. Her face appeared in the frame, like an image slowly developing.

She said, “I’m not going back to the inn. Take me to the police station. They must be looking for me everywhere—why make them run in circles?”

“Ask Aunt Hong, get Dr. He to write me a certificate. I don’t want to be a killer. Maybe I really am sick.”

Luo Ren didn’t answer. He turned his head away, unable to look at her.

Cao Yanhua lowered his head too, sniffling, about to cry. Yi Wan San leaned back with a heavy sigh, staring blankly at the roof.

Only Yan Hongsha broke the silence. “Say something, will you?”

No one did. Instead, Mu Dai smiled faintly at her.

That smile pushed Yan Hongsha over the edge—her tears spilled instantly.

“I don’t agree!” she shouted, voice cracking.

She practically kicked the door open and ran to grab Mu Dai.

“Listen, Mu Dai. My grandpa always told me: when you’re really sad, depressed, disappointed, or furious—never make decisions. Not then. Don’t decide anything.”

“You’re too sad right now. You’re just thinking, forget it, whatever. But once you go in—whether it’s prison or a mental hospital—it’s for life. For life, do you hear me?”

She smacked the car. “Luo Ren, say something! Fatty, San San—what are you, all mute now? Say something!”

Silence. No support. Tears streamed down Yan Hongsha’s face. She shoved Mu Dai aside and did something no one expected—

She scrambled up onto Luo Ren’s hood, plopped her butt down, then flopped onto her back, limbs splayed out, head pressed against the windshield. Her long hair stuck messily to the glass—a ridiculous sight.

Mu Dai came over. “Hongsha, you really have no dignity…”

She froze mid-sentence. Both of them remembered that trip to Sizhai, when Yan Hongsha had carried a shovel on her shoulder, and Mu Dai had said the same thing.

Choking back sobs, Yan Hongsha muttered like she was fighting fate itself. “Don’t do this. My uncle’s dead. My grandpa’s dead. And now you’re talking about prison? Am I cursed, wiping you all out one by one?”

“I don’t believe it. You’ve never done a bad thing in your life, even with your illness. That night in the inn, we slept in the same bed—you stayed put all night, didn’t go anywhere. And then, out of all nights, that one night you just happened to go out to the bridge and push someone? And it just so happened he was taking a piss at the edge, and one shove sent him over? If he hadn’t been pissing, would you have picked him up and thrown him off yourself? No way. This is some kind of curse—some ghostly trick, right? It has to be!”

A spark went off in Luo Ren’s mind. His heart jolted.