Chapter 5 – Xing Baichuan 0.2

The autopsy report for Bolin came out.

Early in the morning, Li Jiangluo received a call. I was smoking at the time, the caller said something, then his breathing became rapid.

After hanging up, he grabbed the jacket draped over the sofa and told me, “Brother, the autopsy report is out.”

The two of us ran out, hailed a cab on the street, but unfortunately, it was rush hour, and it took a lot of effort to finally get a ride.

In the backseat, I could feel him shaking all over. His fists clenched on his thighs, staring out the window, his mind elsewhere.

I was equally unable to calm down, as if knowing the cause of death would instantly reveal the murderer.

All the way, I was so anxious that my palms were sweaty, but this road seemed exceptionally long, never reaching the police station.

Li Jiangluo received another call, this time from Xu Zhao, asking when we would arrive.

I was extremely irritable, his question adding to my frustration.

Finally arriving at the police station, I didn’t wait for Li Jiangluo, jumping out of the car and rushing inside. I pushed open the door, only then realizing I had come with someone else. Turning back, I saw him just getting out of the car, likely paying the fare.

I didn’t have time to be polite, casting a glance at him before entering.

In the office we visited yesterday, I spotted Xu Zhao smoking as soon as I reached the door.

The man stood by the desk, a cigarette in his mouth, pen in one hand, paper in the other.

Seeing me, he set down the pen, holding the cigarette between his fingers and motioning for me to sit.

“Where’s Jiangluo?” Xu Zhao asked as he stubbed out his cigarette.

His familiarity grated on me.

Li Jiangluo entered, hesitating at the door before coming to stand by my side.

Seeing neither of us intended to sit, Xu Zhao stood up again, handing me the piece of paper in his hand.

The first line read: ‘X City Public Security Bureau Autopsy Pathology Report,’ I didn’t read it carefully, instead going straight to the last part.

“Xing Bolin died by hanging.”

“How could it be!”

As soon as I read the line, Li Jiangluo, beside me, slammed his fist on the table in anger, his face flushed as he shouted at the impassive Officer Xu.

I opened my mouth, unable to utter a word.

“Xu Zhao, there’s definitely something wrong with this autopsy report.” Li Jiangluo’s neck veins bulged, as if about to burst. He was still trembling, panting as he said to Xu Zhao, “There were knife wounds on his body. If it was suicide, why would he hang himself after stabbing himself? Does that make sense to you?”

I raised my eyes to Xu Zhao, the paper in my hand nearly crumpled to shreds.

I lifted my hand, squeezing Li Jiangluo’s shoulder hard, striving to remain calm. “This is impossible. I demand a re-examination.”

“There’s no need.” Xu Zhao circled around us to close the door, then returned to sit down again. “I think you two should carefully read this report. It clearly states that Bolin indeed suffered abdominal injuries, and the scene appeared to indicate excessive blood loss. However, his cause of death was asphyxiation.”

“This doesn’t make sense.” I slapped the autopsy report on the table, having no patience to read it word by word. “Is this how your police force handles cases? With human lives at stake, you jump to conclusions so easily?”

Xu Zhao lit a cigarette, his calm demeanor making me want to punch him.

He exhaled a puff of smoke, saying to me, “Investigations show that Xing Bolin died around 3 PM. We thoroughly reviewed the neighborhood surveillance footage, and no one visited his home during that time. Besides Xing Bolin and Li Jiangluo, we found no traces of anyone else in his house. And the military knife only had Xing Bolin’s fingerprints on it.”

He stared at me, his gaze fueling my growing anger.

“Of course, we wouldn’t conclude it was suicide based on this alone. During the scene search, we found two items.” Xu Zhao pulled out another file folder, tossing it in front of us, then, cigarette in his mouth, spun his chair around to face away from us.

I picked up the folder on the table, opening it to find a health examination report and an insurance policy inside.

I didn’t know how to react to my brother’s death.

Because only now did I realize that even if he hadn’t left me at this moment, he would have painfully departed in the near future.

Li Jiangluo didn’t leave the police station with me. He remained crouched in Xu Zhao’s office, motionless.

I had no inclination to tend to him, only wishing to leave that place.

In those police officers’ eyes, my brother was someone who contracted AIDS and wanted to defraud insurance. He bought an insurance policy last year, with Li Jiangluo as the beneficiary. In May this year, he tested positive for HIV antibodies.

Still, I couldn’t understand why, if he wanted to defraud insurance, he would choose to hang himself. I believed that if Bolin wanted to stage a murder scene, it would be as easy as pie. He was smart, smarter than these cops at least.

But I couldn’t continue to investigate, because my entire being was in chaos.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t ask questions. In Xu Zhao’s eyes, I saw mockery.

Strangely, I began to suspect Xu Zhao.

Maybe I was losing my mind, but if Xu Zhao deeply loved Li Jiangluo and my brother was the biggest obstacle in his romantic path, could there be a possibility that the cop was the murderer and intentionally concocted such a baffling story?

I didn’t know why such thoughts popped into my head, but I felt this matter wouldn’t be as simple as Xu Zhao described.

By late October, it started snowing.

I stood at the police station’s entrance, unsure which direction to go.

I watched helplessly as the ground gradually became covered in snow, watching pedestrians clutch their collars tightly and hurry past. Only I, unable to move forward.

Suddenly, I felt homesick. A man nearing thirty, longing to sob in his mother’s arms.

My phone wouldn’t work here. After circling around, I finally found a public payphone.

I dialed, the call answered quickly on the other end.

My father answered the phone. Through the receiver, I could clearly hear our elderly mother asking who was calling.

“Dad.” I tried to keep my voice from choking, terrified they would worry.

“Baichuan?” My father’s voice came through, chiding, “Why did it take you so long to call? Have you finished dealing with domestic work? If you have free time, go visit Bolin. That kid hasn’t been in contact for the past two days!”

Hearing Bolin’s name, I suddenly couldn’t speak. On the other end, my mother was fighting him for the phone, seemingly winning. “Baichuan ah, Huahua seems a bit off these past two days. Could it be the water is too cold and it’s freezing her?”

Huahua was the goldfish my father kept. The elderly couple loved fussing over it.

“Isn’t there a temperature display on the aquarium? Check it. There shouldn’t be any problem.” I gripped the receiver, took a deep breath, then said, “Mom, I have quite a lot of things to handle here. I may have to wait a while before returning. I’ll call you back once I’ve sorted out a phone number.”

“Huh? Will it take long? Didn’t you say…”

Before she could finish, I hung up the phone.

I really couldn’t bear it. At the thought of them having to bury their child before themselves, I wished I could slap myself twice.

I deeply regretted it, regretted bringing my parents abroad. If I had left them to live with Bolin from the beginning, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe, if I hadn’t left the country in the first place and stayed overseas, if our whole family had stayed together, none of this would have occurred.

I was drowned in remorse and regret, leaning against the phone booth, painfully covering my face in the snow.

If only life could be replayed, I would never have allowed my brother to face life alone.

When I returned to the hotel, Li Jiangluo was sitting outside my room, lost in thought. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his eyes red and swollen.

He pushed himself up against the wall, clutching that medical examination report in his hand.

I walked past him, pulling out my room card.

The room was warm, but I couldn’t shake the chill.

He followed me inside, silently closing the door.

Taking off my coat, I realized it was soaked from melted snow.

“I called the hospital.” Li Jiangluo’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. “They wouldn’t tell me anything, saying they need to protect patient confidentiality.”

I sat down, looking out the window, while he stood there motionless.

The snow grew heavier, the city looking particularly clean.

And particularly cold.

I asked him, “Didn’t you know anything about this?”

He didn’t respond. I turned to look at him, noticing his hand balled into a fist, currently biting hard on his own hand.

Red eyes streaming tears again, he lowered his hand upon my gaze, saying, “Sorry… it’s my fault.”