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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 4: Hints and Implications
"What's going on?" That question hit me like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up a storm in my mind.
It's over!
Those two words flashed in my brain like an alarm. He must have seen it! The name of Li Guifen, along with that glaring parenthesis—(Zhou Dahai's wife)! With his sharp mind, he couldn't possibly miss what I was suspecting!
My heart raced, my hands and feet turned cold, and I could even feel the sweat lingering on the mouse beneath my fingertips. My mind went blank, as if it had crashed, leaving me utterly clueless on how to respond. Should I close the screen immediately? Pretend to be oblivious? Or should I just take the plunge and confront him?
No, that's not an option! Confrontation would be suicide!
In that split second, my survival instinct overpowered my fear. I had to play dumb; I had to bluff my way through!
I forced myself to squeeze out a smile that was more painful than crying, my fingers instinctively clicking randomly on the mouse as if switching pages. Then I turned around, my voice trembling uncontrollably, "Fang... Teacher Fang, what brings you here? I... I was just browsing, trying to learn about our County Bureau's previous cases..."
My gaze wandered aimlessly; I couldn't bear to meet his penetrating eyes.
Fang Huai'an strolled over with his hands behind his back, his steps light like a cat's but carrying an invisible weight. He stood beside me, not looking directly at the computer screen but gazing out the window as if merely passing by to enjoy the scenery.
"It's good for young people to be eager to learn," he said lightly, his tone revealing no hint of emotion. "However, there’s limited knowledge to gain from these dusty files in the archives. The real experience lies on the dissection table, in the field, and in dealing with people."
What did he mean by that? Was it just a casual remark or a hint that digging into old cases was pointless—or worse, that I shouldn't be doing it at all?
My heart raced anxiously as if it were carrying a rabbit inside. I could only force myself to respond, "Yes, yes, Teacher Fang, you're right. I just... recently arrived and wanted to understand the situation better."
"Understanding the situation is important," Fang Huai'an finally shifted his gaze back to me, his eyes landing on my face with what seemed like a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. "However, Xiao Qin, sometimes knowing too much can lead you down a rabbit hole."
Here it comes again! Another variation of "seeing too clearly isn't necessarily a good thing"! He was definitely warning me!
A cold sweat broke out on my back in an instant. I felt like a child stripped of clothes and thrown into the snow, with all my thoughts and intentions laid bare before him.
“Teacher Fang is just giving you some guidance,” I lowered my head, feigning humility while my mind raced with countermeasures. What did he really want? Was he planning to crush me outright, or was there something else in store?
“It’s not really guidance,” Fang Huai'an waved his hand dismissively and walked over to the empty chair beside me, sitting down leisurely. My tension escalated—was he planning to stay? Did he want to have a “deep conversation” with me?
He crossed his legs, tapping his fingers lightly on his knee, producing a rhythmic sound that felt like he was calculating some kind of beat, or perhaps drumming on my nerves.
“Xiao Qin, you’ve worked in the provincial department, so you’ve seen a lot and your professional skills must be commendable,” he shifted his tone to flatter me. “However, big cities have their own rules, and we in this small place have our own… well, social nuances.”
Here it comes! The show is about to begin! He was going to start “teaching” me!
I held my breath, not daring to make a sound, listening like a primary school student.
“You see, as forensic doctors, we emphasize being practical and respecting science; that’s all correct,” Fang Huai'an’s voice was calm, as if we were chatting casually. “But sometimes, being too serious can complicate simple matters or even… lead to well-intentioned mistakes.”
I scoffed inwardly at his notion of “well-intentioned mistakes.” To trivialize matters of life and death so lightly!
“Take accidental deaths as an example,” he smoothly transitioned the topic to this sensitive subject, causing my heart to leap into my throat. “When someone is old or ill and passes away unexpectedly, it’s understandable that the family feels distressed. But sometimes they might think irrationally—wondering if someone harmed their loved one. In such cases, if we provide a clear and definitive autopsy report telling them it was indeed an accident and not to overthink it, wouldn’t that help the living find relief sooner and allow the deceased to rest in peace?”
“But…” I couldn’t help but want to argue back. What if it wasn’t an accident at all?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Fang Huai'an seemed to see right through me, raising his hand to interrupt. “You’re wondering what if it’s not an accident? What if there are hidden circumstances?”
He paused for a moment, leaning slightly forward and lowering his voice. His expression became complex, as if sharing a secret: “Xiao Qin, think about it. Even if there are other factors involved—like the elderly person had an argument that triggered a health crisis or family members didn’t provide adequate care and failed to notice… Bringing these issues to light would only cause more pain for the family, lead to conflicts among relatives and neighbors. What good would that do? They might not even get insurance compensation! Does it help solve cases or maintain stability?”
I was stunned by his twisted reasoning. He managed to present the cover-up of the truth so eloquently that it even carried a hint of “humanistic concern”! He was conflating concepts! Could triggering a health crisis be equated with direct harm? Could negligence be equated with deliberate delay?!
“Teacher Fang, but our duty is…” I tried to argue, clinging to my meager professional integrity.
“Our duty is to determine the cause of death, that’s true,” Fang Huai'an interrupted me again, his tone growing more authoritative and undeniably firm. “But how we ‘determine’ and how we ‘present’ it involves a great deal of knowledge. Sometimes, a ‘clean’ report is more beneficial to all parties than one filled with doubts that leads to endless disputes. What do we call this? We call it pragmatically… solving problems.”
“Solving problems…” I mulled over those four words, feeling a wave of nausea. Was his notion of “solving problems” simply about eliminating the problems themselves?
“Of course,” Fang Huai'an shifted his tone again, softening it slightly and even adding a hint of earnestness. “I’m not saying we should falsify information or distort the truth. On major issues, we must uphold our principles. But for some… marginal, ambiguous matters, or let’s say, issues that won’t bring the sky crashing down if we overlook them, can we perhaps… handle them flexibly?”
He looked at me, his gaze carrying an implicit message of “you know what I mean.”
I understood. I completely understood.
This was his “Old Rules”! Without touching on major moral issues, he intended to use his expertise and authority to make “minor adjustments” to autopsy reports, covering up some “unnecessary” troubles or “helping” those who had “needs.” For instance, helping families quickly obtain insurance payouts, assisting certain individuals in clearing their names, or even… making some “accidents” appear more like accidents.
And in his view, the deaths of Zhou Dahai and his wife might fall into that category of “marginal,” “ambiguous,” or “issues that won’t bring the sky crashing down”?
A wave of absurdity and helplessness washed over me. I felt as though the professional beliefs and ethics I had steadfastly upheld were being crushed under his system of “human relations” and “flexible handling.”
“Teacher Fang…” My voice was dry, my throat tight. “I… I just arrived; there’s so much I don’t understand.”
I chose to retreat. What else could I do? Continue to argue? Question him? I had no doubt that if I uttered one more inappropriate word, he would immediately discard this façade of being patient and understanding.
“Ha ha, if you don’t understand, just take your time to learn,” Fang Huai'an seemed pleased with my sense of timing; his smile became much more genuine. “Although Luoshui County is small, the human relationships are complex. Sometimes, helping others is also helping yourself. More friends mean more paths.”
He stood up and patted my shoulder; the pressure was neither too light nor too heavy but felt like a cold snake coiling around me.
“Alright then, I won’t disturb your studies any longer.” He turned toward the door. “By the way, regarding Zhou Dahai’s case, the family has raised no further objections; I’ve signed off on the report. Please file it as soon as possible. Don’t dwell on things that have already been closed; young people should look forward.”
This was his final warning, telling me not to touch the case of Zhou Dahai again, nor the case of Li Guifen.
I stiffly nodded, watching his figure disappear at the door.
It wasn't until the door to the archive room closed again that I felt utterly drained, collapsing into my chair as cold sweat trickled down my forehead.
This conversation contained no accusations, no threats, yet it terrified me more than any harsh reprimand could. Fang Huai'an was like an experienced old hunter, leisurely toying with me, the prey caught in his trap. He clearly laid out the rules of the game and then seemingly generously let me off the hook.
But did he really let me go?
I suddenly lifted my head, staring at the computer screen that was still lit up. In my panic earlier, I had clicked randomly, and the page had jumped to the main interface of the archive system.
However, my gaze was drawn to an inconspicuous icon in the taskbar at the bottom right corner of the screen.
It was a small eye-shaped icon, with a nearly illegible label underneath: Remote Monitoring Program running.
I had definitely not noticed this icon before! Was it there when Fang Huai'an entered, or had it been silently activated during the time he sat down?!
My blood ran cold in an instant.
He wasn’t warning me; he was monitoring me! He wanted to know just how much I had grasped!
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