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The Trajectory of Suicide
墨書 Inktalez
It’s best not to mix beer and liquor; it can really make you dizzy. This was Chu Yi's first reaction upon waking up.
Moonlight spilled through the open window, drunkenly crawling across the bed, collapsing into a sheet that would never wrinkle. Chu Yi turned over, lying on his back with his arms and legs spread wide in a star shape. Yan Hong was not beside him. This was his second reaction.
He pinched his nose hard, nearly suffocating himself. This was real. Yan Hong was gone! She was gone!! Back to single life! This was his third reaction. Although he knew it might only be temporary, like a firework display, an inexplicable sadness rose from the depths of his heart like a twin ghost.
He sat up.
On the bedside table, there was a brand new maple wood frame, the price tag still attached in the corner, with a photo eagerly placed inside. In the moonlight, the three faces and two monkey faces in the photo radiated excitement at different levels. A man and a woman flanked a six-year-old girl, Miao Miao, whose head was topped by two monkey heads peeking curiously at the camera. The woman was Yan Hong, wearing a white sleeveless dress, her figure delicate. The man was obviously Chu Yi, dressed in an ordinary T-shirt, looking unnaturally excited.
Chu Yi turned on the lamp and gazed at himself in the photo. Why did he look so awkward?
Miao Miao was the neighbor's daughter, entrusted to them for a day. Yan Hong had whimsically suggested, “Aside from watching one movie and having a few dinners together, we’ve only met in the morgue; let’s take Miao Miao to the zoo today.” Chu Yi had no objections; after seeing so many bloody crime scenes, going to the zoo felt like returning to nature. Watching animals express their instincts was far easier than facing various bizarre and vicious criminals.
But things started going wrong from there. Along the way, everyone assumed they were a family—even Miao Miao, who, free from her parents’ constraints and having too much fun, called them “Daddy” and “Mommy.”
Standing in front of Monkey Mountain, a tourist suggested, “Come on, let me take a family photo.” Yan Hong eagerly handed over the camera while saying “Thank you,” gazing at Chu Yi with affectionate eyes. He shivered at that moment. A man walking toward marriage felt like heading toward slow suicide—this phrase came from his subordinate Liu Chang; while exaggerated, it held some truth. He didn’t love Yan Hong any less; he just wasn’t ready for marriage or children.
Thus, he looked very unnatural in the photo—like someone being forced into something against his will. Consequently, Yan Hong began to sulk with him. That evening, she coldly remarked, “Even monkeys have families and children. You’re worse than a monkey.”
He lifted the frame closer to examine it as if he could see the person behind the camera through the monkeys' eyes. The monkeys’ pupils were large and bright—brighter than his own. Was he really worse than a monkey?
Suddenly, the phone rang sharply, startling Chu Yi as he tossed the frame onto the bed and reached for the receiver. His hand froze just above it.
The ringtone echoed loudly in the night, rippling through the silence like a disturbance. The microphone jumped with each ring, impatiently vibrating. Could it be Yan Hong calling again? What did she want this time? Their recent phone negotiations had started off peacefully, but before long, they devolved into heated arguments. The fights led nowhere, and both their phone bills skyrocketed. While they clashed, the Telecommunications Bureau reaped the benefits.
If it was her again, it was best not to answer right now. Chu Yi knew all too well that Yan Hong, a forensic doctor, often worked night shifts. After dark, she was at her most alert and combative—like a predator waiting to pounce. He had just wrapped up an investigation into a homicide and felt utterly drained yet unable to sleep. Having managed only four hours of rest thanks to alcohol, he was like prey on the chopping block; facing her now would likely overwhelm him.
So, he quietly withdrew his hand from the phone, as if any sudden movement would alert the person on the other end. If there were any case updates, his phone would ring. Yan Hong would never call his mobile because she knew he would refuse to answer if she did.
Tomorrow, he decided, he would replace his landline with one that had caller ID.
Ding ding ding… ding ding ding… The phone rang again. This time it was his mobile. Chu Yi picked it up and saw it was his subordinate Liu Chang calling. He answered, and Liu Chang's voice came through—calm yet stern: “Homicide at 17 Yongdao Old Street. Old Chu, you need to move fast.” Before Chu Yi could respond, the call ended abruptly.
It seemed the reporters had already sniffed out the body like hyenas and were rushing to the scene.
Liu Chang—oh Liu Chang, you can never keep anything under wraps. Chu Yi thought as he got dressed. As the Captain of the Criminal Investigation Division, he knew that if Liu Chang spoke to him in such a tone, it meant reporters were already nearby. The more outrageous his tone, the more journalists were present. With reporters around, Liu Chang’s blood pressure would rise and his hormones would spike, often leading him to act unusually—like daring to call his superior “Old Chu” and even ordering him to “move fast.”
Chu Yi couldn’t help but smile wryly as he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.
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