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墨書 Inktalez
Chu Yi instructed the officers to take Liu Qi and two other reporters who had been at the scene back to the police station, assigning them to three separate rooms for questioning. He directed Xiao Sun to bring Liu Qi to the last room. That room had no windows, was damp and dark, resembling a prison cell. Upon entering, one would immediately feel an oppressive atmosphere.
Although Liu Qi was an old acquaintance, she had made a mistake, and there could be no leniency.
Chu Yi sat across from Liu Qi and lit a cigarette. Liu Qi was also a heavy smoker, often going through three packs a day while working late nights. Normally, Chu Yi would offer her a cigarette, but today he smoked one himself. Liu Qi understood that Chu Yi was angry.
Suddenly, Chu Yi pushed the cigarette pack and lighter toward her and asked, "Want to smoke?" Liu Qi forced a bitter smile, realizing that if he didn't offer her a cigarette, it was just mild irritation. However, if he was angry yet still offered her one, it meant a serious confrontation was coming.
"Captain Chu, if you're angry, just let it out," Liu Qi said cautiously, not daring to reach for the cigarette.
"Why did you move the body?" Chu Yi asked. He had already determined Jiang Weiting's cause of death before entering the suite. Yan Hong's favorite author was the famous Taiwanese writer San Mao, who had committed suicide in the bathroom using pantyhose. However, when he entered the bedroom and saw the torn pantyhose hanging from the beam, he found Jiang Weiting's body lying on the floor.
"We were only thinking of saving Jiang Weiting at that moment. We cut the pantyhose and brought her down. It was a natural reaction. We've already explained this to the officers present at the time," she replied.
"Who are you? Who used the knife? Describe what happened in detail," Chu Yi demanded, tilting his chin and exhaling a smoke ring into the air that encircled Liu Qi's face. Her eyes were bloodshot, dark bags hanging beneath them; her mascara had begun to run, smudging her eye makeup.
Liu Qi looked back at Chu Yi through the smoke ring. He appeared equally exhausted; they were evenly matched in fatigue. This Captain Chu was revered in the police force as a "Saint." His demeanor often gave off an impression of being laid-back or even indifferent, but his observations were sharp and detailed, with an uncanny intuition. Many bizarre cases unraveled effortlessly under his scrutiny. Liu Qi thought that a true "Saint" must be like him—existing in nothingness while reaching clarity in ambiguity. In martial arts novels, it is often said that the sharpest weapon is one that does not need to be wielded; formlessness triumphs over form. Chu Yi solved cases with such ease, navigating between "evidence" and "suspicion," his insights always flickering on the edge of the tangible and intangible. This character would make for great material if explored further. Liu Qi resolved to find a way to attach herself to this case and to Chu Yi for an exciting report. After a moment's thought, she said:
"Besides me, there are Shang Tianzhi and Xu Changhai; they are from other units."
For reporters, chasing news is akin to scrambling for food during a famine; how could others agree to let these three enter first? It seemed illogical. Chu Yi asked, "Why were only you three allowed inside? Wouldn't others have tried to break in?"
"They wanted to break in badly; they just didn't have the chance. You know Jiang Weiting is a well-known figure; exclusive reports about her are rare, so no one wanted to miss this opportunity. We drew lots to decide who would go in first—luck was on our side."
"Uh-huh," Chu Yi grunted, imagining how excited they must have been when entering the room. "What happened next?"
"Things took a turn for the worse after that. We shouted from outside first, but with the lights on in the main room and no one coming out, we decided to enter together so that no one would see more than anyone else. However, when we pulled back the curtain of the suite door, we saw a pair of feet hanging in mid-air, wearing light green embroidered slippers. I shouted for help. Shang Tianzhi and Xu Changhai—being men—reacted faster than I did; they rushed in to grab Jiang Weiting while I fetched a knife and climbed onto a stool to cut the pantyhose. But it was already too late." A deep sorrow laced Liu Qi's words as she spoke.
"Where did you find the knife?"
"I carry it with me for self-defense." Liu Qi often went out at night and had learned some self-defense techniques, so he liked to keep a small knife, which he usually ended up using for peeling fruit.
"Was the stool always there?"
"Yes. But at first, it was overturned on the ground. I suspect Jiang Weiting stepped on it when she hanged herself."
"And then? Did you touch anything else?"
"No. I called the police right away. After that, I only took some photos."
"Really, you didn't move anything?" Chu Yi asked with exaggerated skepticism.
Liu Qi's face flushed with anger. "I didn't move anything!"
"Then what about Jiang Weiting's watch?" Chu Yi noticed that there was a ring of skin on Jiang Weiting's left wrist that was lighter than her arm. It seemed she had worn a watch or some jewelry there.
"Jiang Weiting never wore a watch," Liu Qi said sarcastically.
"Maybe it was a bracelet or a bangle."
Liu Qi thought for a moment, then took out a magazine from his bag and flipped to a page. "This is from this year's literary awards ceremony. Look, there's a group photo here. This," Liu Qi pointed to a woman in a qipao, "is Jiang Weiting."
Chu Yi took the magazine and examined the photo closely. In the picture, Jiang Weiting looked somewhat pale, her eyes dark and bright. On her left hand, she wore a silver bracelet inlaid with jade.
"I've seen her a few times, and she always wore that bracelet no matter what she was dressed in," Liu Qi said.
Chu Yi didn't respond immediately; after a pause, he said, "Didn't you find some photos? Let me see them."
Liu Qi pulled out a digital camera from his bag and handed it to Chu Yi. Chu Yi turned on the camera and quickly flipped through the photos. The timestamps showed it was just past 3:08 AM. The photos were detailed and matched what he had seen inside the house.
"These photos are temporarily part of the police case files," Chu Yi said.
"No way," Liu Qi reached for the camera, but Chu Yi kicked the table and slid back with the chair. Liu Qi missed her grab and became furious. "This is my exclusive news; you can't do this!"
"I'll return them to you once we have some leads on the case," Chu Yi replied with a smile.
"That will be too late." Liu Qi was anxious. "How about this? I'll give you another piece of information in exchange for the photos."
"This isn't a marketplace; we don't negotiate here," Chu Yi's smile faded, replaced by a serious expression like hidden reefs.
"Shang Tianzhi has a phone case hanging from his belt."
"I knew journalists like you couldn't be trusted," Chu Yi exclaimed, jumping up while still holding Liu Qi's camera, and rushed out of the interrogation room. "Keep an eye on her," he instructed Xiao Sun, who was eavesdropping at the door.
In the adjacent interrogation room sat a man with long hair and a beard—Shang Tianzhi. Yan Hong had once asked Chu Yi why journalists liked to grow long hair and beards. Chu Yi jokingly replied, "It's like makeup. If you've done something bad, no one can tell what you look like."
As soon as Chu Yi entered the room, he spotted the phone case at Shang Tianzhi's waist. He walked over, yanked it off, startling the officers present. Chu Yi opened the case and pulled out a pinhole camera.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Shang Tianzhi had been secretly filming, with the lens aimed directly at Jiang Weiting, providing the police with valuable evidence of what had transpired. The entire process matched Liu Qi's account perfectly. After reviewing the footage, Chu Yi rubbed his sore neck and returned to the dimly lit interrogation room with Liu Qi's camera, only to find her sprawled on the table asleep. He called out to her twice without response and then said, "Do you still want your photos?"
Those words seemed like a spell; Liu Qi shot upright.
"I'll give you back your photos," Chu Yi pushed the camera toward her. Liu Qi skeptically took it and inspected it closely—every single photo was there. She looked at Chu Yi in confusion. He smiled back at her, resembling a cunning old eagle in her eyes. Chu Yi nodded and said, "The information you provided was very valuable and cleared all three of you. So, these photos are yours again. Also, I have a little bonus."
"A bonus? Aren't we in a police station?" Liu Qi could hardly believe her ears.
"I'll let you go first. In two hours, I'll release the other two," Chu Yi said. "This way, you can publish your news with photos first and seize the initiative—does that count as a bonus?"
Upon hearing this, Liu Qi laughed, grabbed her bag, and rushed out the door. It seemed that Chu Yi was indeed keeping an eye on her column. Her column was titled "Seizing the Initiative."
Liu Qi rushed past Xiao Sun like a whirlwind, stepping on Xiao Sun's foot. He winced in pain, grimacing.
"I'm sorry," Liu Qi's voice faded down the corridor. Xiao Sun hopped on one foot, his expression resembling that of a monkey scratching an itch, and looked at Chu Yi in surprise. "Captain Chu, are you really giving that photo back to her?"
"Yes. She provided the information, so we made a trade."
"But you never make trades!"
Chu Yi glanced at Xiao Sun, who looked as tired as he felt after a sleepless night. "Think about it. Why did the deceased Jiang Weiting call the reporter in advance?"
"To have them witness her death."
"Why just the reporter?"
"To spread the word."
"Exactly. If I don't return the photo to Liu Qi, Jiang Weiting's purpose won't be fulfilled. Jiang Weiting committed suicide. She wanted everyone to know she had taken her own life. She was a low-profile person, so why would she want to publicize her death?" Xiao Sun began to see the point.
"Right. What we need to investigate now is that 'why.' Now go get some sleep."
Xiao Sun turned around, seemingly enlightened, and left. Chu Yi stood up abruptly, eagerly rushing to the water cooler and gulping down three large cups of water. The alcohol had left him parched.
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