Netherworld Investigator

Chapter 312

Zhang Jiulin and I rushed towards the young man at the same time. He bit his finger and smeared a drop of blood on the Heartbroken Xun while I checked the man’s pulse. Wang Yuanchao shot through his right shoulder so the young man was only unconscious.

The young man was the murderer we were looking for–Long Buhui. "Call an ambulance,” I instructed Xiaotao.

"Who said you could give that command earlier?!" shouted Zhang Jiulin as he grabbed my shirt.

"I was afraid you’d get hurt," I answered.

“Well thank you then,” Zhang Jiulin helplessly sighed and loosened his hold on my shirt.

The Heartbroken Xun had been successfully subdued. I explained everything to Director-General Cheng, taking quite some time to reason with him before he agreed to hand over the Heartbroken Xun to Zhang Jiulin.

Exhausted, I couldn’t wait to change out of these robes. Xiaotao hugged my arm, unlocked her cell phone and said, "Smile!"

After our selfie, Xiaotao insisted she would treasure the photo, though we soon discovered my face looked blurry in it. Strangely, there was a middle-aged man’s face hidden at the top of the photo, his features greatly resembling mine.

It was a long time afterwards before I knew that the man in the picture matched the face of my forefather, Deputy Minister of Justice Song Ci.

Long Buhui was sent to the hospital for emergency surgery. Early the next morning, Zhang Jiulin left for home. Xiaotao and I gave him a lift to the train station. When we parted, he invited me to visit Wuhan if the opportunity arose.

Now that the case was closed, the thing I wanted to do most was to have a romantic date with Xiaotao. Unfortunately, our circumstances didn’t allow that. Xiaotao still had much to deal with, including the memorial service for the officers lost in the line of duty and reports to write.

There was no mention of Zhang Jiulin in the case files due to the abnormality of the whole incident. I endeavored to rationalize these events and make them sound as scientific as possible.

Three days later, Xiaotao informed me that Long Buhui had regained consciousness, though his body was greatly weakened. The interrogation had to be conducted in the hospital.

When we arrived in his ward, Long Buhui was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Xiaotao exchanged a knowing look with the officers on duty, indicating for them to leave. We shut the door and moved the chairs beside Long Buhui’s bed.

"Let’s talk,” I began. “How did you obtain the Heartbroken Xun and why did you target those officers?"

Long Buhui maintained his silence for a few seconds before he asked, "Will I end up like my brother?"

"No,” I refuted. “You killed so many innocents. You’ll be sentenced the death penalty!"

"Who can prove that I killed those people?” he sneered. “I merely played a musical instrument and then they committed suicide. How can you prove that their deaths were related to me?"

He was a smart man indeed. In truth, before we headed to the hospital, the judicial department and the public security bureau had studied the case all night. On what charges would Long Buhui be prosecuted? In the end, they reached the consensus to prosecute Long Buhui for intentional homicide. The Heartbroken Xun was a tool, no different from a knife and a gun. As the perpetrator, Long Buhui must assume legal responsibility.

"The law is more versatile than you imagine,” I said. “You can’t get away with it. Since you don’t think playing a musical instrument is committing murder, I can play it for you!"

Long Buhui’s disquietude proved he was afraid of death. He struggled so hard he almost knocked over the infusion stand. We had a hard time stabilizing him before he said, "You’re an officer. How can you do such a thing?"

"Sorry to disappoint you,” I chuckled. “I’m not actually one! I’m just a criminal consultant."

"So you’re here to question me?" The veil of relief that swept across his face betrayed his emotions.

"I just want to know why a promising young man such as yourself degenerated into a murderer."

“Promising young man?” he mocked. “My life was ruined the day you framed my brother."

He finally lowered his guard and began to tell his story. When he was eight years old, the brother he lived with was arrested. After that, the infamy of being related to a criminal overshadowed his life, plunging him into endless suffering from ostracism, discrimination and bullying. Everyone around him, classmate or teacher, both intentionally and unwittingly drew a clear line with him.

He could put up with the discrimination but the obstacles that faced his everyday life proved too much to bear. Gaining admission into high school and finding a job became a million times harder than before.

Despite his admission to a prestigious high school based on his excellent results alone, they eventually turned him down after investigating his life and discovering that he had a convict for a brother. In the end, he was forced to attend the worst school. Companies refused to hire him upon graduation, leaving him with no other options besides menial jobs no one wanted.

From an early age, he was inferior to everyone else, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break this curse. But he loved and adored his brother very much so he didn’t hate him at all.

He assumed his plight was caused by the police, certain that they framed his Long Bangguo and indirectly ruined his own life because they were jealous of his brother’s abilities.

Ever since then, he was bent on revenge and paid close attention to these officers who were once his brother’s colleagues. Watching them rise through the ranks after being commended for their and meritorious service ignited the flames of hatred and resentment in his heart. But how could he confront an entire public security bureau when he himself was weak and powerless?

Later on, a mysterious man found him and handed him something, explaining that his brother died in prison because the police were afraid he would shed light on the truth upon release from incarceration. Convinced they had orchestrated the murder, Long Buhui was filled with rage.

The mysterious man claimed the xun could help him wreak vengeance which he so desperately desired. As long as the melody was played, those officers would receive due retribution.

The powerless were always vulnerable to such miraculous possibilities. Predictably so, he quickly accepted the man’s ridiculous claims and unleashed his revenge as soon as his brother’s sentence reached full term.

The more lives he took, the fiercer the flames of revenge burned. His vengeful obsession eventually ate away at him, weakening his body close to the point of collapse. Fueled by willpower and subsisting on drugs, he continued to use the Heartbroken Xun. He felt as if he could hear the voice of his older brother’s spirit that resided in the xun, filling his heart with an indescribable sense of contentment and joy.

Unfortunately, he was only short of one life before he fell into our hands.

When he finished narrating, Xiaotao sighed, "There’s no conspiracy theory. Your brother killed on impulse. No one framed him or wanted to silence him."

"You’re lying,” snapped Long Buhui. “It’s clear the police killed him! My brother is such a great man. What’s wrong with killing criminals?"

Xiaotao wanted to continue reasoning with him but I stopped her and shook my head, "Forget it!"

After leaving the ward, Xiaotao lamented, "His motive for revenge was completely instigated by others."

"But he’s willing to believe that,” I said. “Rome wasn’t built in one day. Long Buhui has been the subject of discrimination since he was a child. His mind and heart has long been distorted. In fact, he’s the product of enmities stacked on each other."

Back then, the triad boss retaliated against the police and killed the girl Long Bangguo loved. Blinded by hatred, he shot and killed the man but his imprisonment condemned Long Buhui to a life of misery. With the deaths of these officers today, their families would bear the pain of losing them and in turn, breeding new hatred again...

This was all a butterfly effect. The wings of the butterfly fluttered in areas we hadn’t noticed. By the time it turned into a hurricane, it was already too late. Perhaps at some point, I myself might have planted the seeds of hatred!

Only by taking a God’s-Eye view of the situation could we judge clearly. Destiny played tricks on all of us. Choosing to fight crime undoubtedly meant standing at the forefront of hatred. We never knew when the tide would turn and snuff out our feeble lives.

However, the one principle that motivated us on this dangerous path was–no regrets in the battle for justice!

A month later, the case was tried by the Supreme People’s Court of the People’s Republic of China.

The accused, Long Buhui, was sentenced to death in accordance with the law for the crimes of intentional injury, assaulting a police officer and disrupting public order. The facts were clear and the evidence was conclusive.

The court dismissed all appeals and called for immediate execution.

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