Chapter 3

Someone posted the case online.

Overnight, my family became a trending topic.

Even my brother’s attack ten years earlier was dug up.

People who knew about it began coming forward.

One user, “He’s Dead,” commented:

“Lý Trạch? The guy from No. 2 School? I was there with him. Those aren’t the only two lives on his hands. He killed someone back at school.”

“Killed someone at school? What happened? Tell us!”

“I went to No. 2 too. Never heard about that. Come on, explain!”

Many people urged the user to reveal more.

But the reply was cryptic.

“Can’t say. My account will be gone if I do.”

That single line sent the uproar to its peak.

Ms. Vương saw the post and messaged me immediately.

“Was that you?”

I denied it.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who knows what happened.”

…

That afternoon, the police asked me to come in again.

“Do you remember Hứa Giang Thụ?”

After so many years, merely hearing the name still made my heart tighten.

I nodded.

“Yes. He’s the one my brother attacked.”

Officer Tôn wrote rapidly without looking up.

“Why did Lý Trạch attack him?”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady.

“If I said he raped me, would you believe me?”

He glanced at me.

“Why didn’t you mention that last time?”

I smiled faintly.

“Because you didn’t ask.”

He paused.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Hứa Giang Thụ was a legend in our year.

Brilliant, handsome, upright, well brought up.

Everyone said so.

His only disadvantage, perhaps, was his family’s poverty.

He was one of the poorest students in our year, living on scholarships and aid for years.

But it never made him feel inferior. He was optimistic and outgoing.

He often said his parents had already given him the best they could.

They might be poor now, but things would improve.

We met at a physics competition.

He came first. I came second.

Afterward, I approached him to ask how to solve one of the major problems.

We gradually became friendly.

Sometimes we greeted each other and chatted when we met on the way.

It happened at the end of May.

We were both on cleaning duty that day and happened to meet as we left school.

I had been stuck on a difficult problem for days, so I asked whether he could help.

He readily agreed.

We studied at a nearby KFC for an hour.

It was dark when we left.

He offered to walk me home.

On a quiet side street, he suddenly embraced me from behind.

He said he liked me, that he had wanted to hold me like that since our first meeting.

If I went out with him, he would tutor me every day.

Of course I refused.

Panicking, I kicked him several times and ran home.

My brother noticed something wrong and questioned me repeatedly.

Eventually, I told him.

The next day, he went to find Hứa Giang Thụ.

I wiped the tears from my face. My gaze cooled.

“That’s what happened.”

“If it weren’t for Hứa Giang Thụ, my brother wouldn’t have become ill, and my parents wouldn’t be dead!”

Officer Tôn brought me a tissue.

“That statement is almost identical to the one you gave ten years ago.”

Of course.

I had memorized those words hundreds of times.

Tone, expression, when to cry, when to grow angry—everything had been rehearsed.

One wrong word, and my mother hit me with a stick.

Learning that Hứa Giang Thụ had tried to rape his sister, my brother flew into a rage and confronted him.

Instead of apologizing, the boy declared that he would have me sooner or later.

Unable to bear the provocation, my brother attacked him in anger and left him in a vegetative state.

Listen to that.

Such a righteous, moving explanation, wasn’t it?

My mother threatened me.

Even if I didn’t say it, our homeroom teacher would testify.

Hứa Giang Thụ’s attempted rape could only be the truth.

But if those words came from my mouth, she would continue paying his medical bills.

Between letting him live in disgrace and letting him die without the truth ever known, I chose the first without hesitation.

Nothing mattered more than being alive.

With that testimony as evidence, the case was hastily closed.

Lý Trạch went to a psychiatric hospital.

My family paid Hứa Giang Thụ’s medical expenses.

From then on, my parents and I held each other in check.

I held all the secrets and endured their abuse every day.

They abused me, but still paid the hospital year after year.

Until recently…

Hứa Giang Thụ died.

I knew.

It was time to end everything.

Just as I reached the station gate, a message arrived from an unknown number.

“If you don’t want the police to know the truth about your parents’ deaths, meet me here tonight.”

I immediately thought of the user posting revelations online.

Instinctively, I locked my phone.

Officer Tôn noticed.

“Something wrong?”

I forced a smile.

“Just spam. If there’s nothing else, I’ll go.”

He looked thoughtful.

In the end, he said nothing.

Out of his sight, I immediately replied:

“Who are you?”

No answer.

I called. As expected, the phone was off.

Even after reaching home, I couldn’t decide whether to meet him.

My parents’ murder had been flawless.

The “truth” must mean what happened to Hứa Giang Thụ ten years earlier.

But…

Apart from Ms. Vương and me, everyone who knew was dead.

Who was this person?

What did he want?

Unable to work it out, I decided to meet him without telling her.

First, I stopped at the hospital.

Lý Trạch still lay in bed, barely alive.

I had intended to wait until he woke and torment him slowly.

But I knew I was running out of time.

Without hesitation, I took out the potassium chloride I had prepared and injected it into his IV line.

As I left, a shout rose behind me.

“Bed seventeen! Resuscitation!”

I whispered:

“A belated birthday present, my dear brother.”

Following the instructions, I reached the meeting place at eleven that night.

An unfinished building on the outskirts.

The development had been planned to house tens of thousands.

But the developer ran out of money, built two blocks, and fled.

Far from the main road, the surroundings were pitch-black.

A well-chosen place.

So deserted that if I died here tonight, no one might find me.

At the foot of the building, my phone vibrated again.

Two words:

“Thirteenth floor.”

My heart tightened.

I looked up instinctively.

In the moonlight, a faint figure stood high above.

“The thirteenth floor…”

I murmured.

Hứa Giang Thụ’s mother had jumped from that very floor.

Whatever this person wanted, at least the trip hadn’t been wasted.

The construction lift had long stopped working.

I climbed step by step.

A gust made me feel I might fall at any moment.

The person stood with his back to me, close to the edge.

As I approached, I realized his clothes were familiar.

I had seen them somewhere.

Hearing my steps, he spoke without turning.

“You’re here.”

The familiar voice made my scalp prickle.

A familiar face flashed into my mind.

Damn.

A trap.

I turned to run.

He was faster.

Without hesitation, he jumped.

A few seconds later, a heavy thud came from below.

At the same moment, police sirens shrieked downstairs.

Half an hour later, I was back at the station.

“Aren’t you curious why we were there?”

Officer Tôn sat opposite me under dim light, his sharp gaze trying to penetrate to the bottom of my heart.

I leaned back, unconcerned.

“What’s there to wonder about? You were there to catch criminals. Unless you take midnight strolls?”

“And you?” he countered. “Were you out for a stroll?”

I smiled.

“You already know. Why ask?”

He seemed surprised by my frankness, but recovered quickly.

“Do you know who died?”

“No. And I’m not curious. I didn’t kill him.”

He handed me his phone.

The screen showed the profile of “He’s Dead.”

That morning, the account hadn’t had a single follower.

Now it had nearly ten thousand.

Half an hour earlier, he had posted a new video.

He said he was going to negotiate with someone and would livestream the truth about Hứa Giang Thụ’s beating.

Ordinary attention-seeking, until the final line.

“If I don’t livestream tonight, it means someone has murdered me.”

That sentence triggered a storm.

The video quickly trended.

I looked puzzled.

“What’s that got to do with me? I didn’t kill him.”

Officer Tôn looked at me.

“Of course I know you didn’t.”

“You went there to distract us, giving your accomplice time to escape. Correct?”

I started, but forced myself to look calm.

“What accomplice? I don’t know what you mean.”

My attitude angered him.

He slammed the table.

The younger officer beside him jumped and tugged his sleeve.

“Calm down, Tôn.”

After a moment, he sighed.

“Hứa Kiều, I know everything.”

“Social media wasn’t developed ten years ago. Now everyone’s discussing this. Everyone involved in that old case is dead.”

“You’ve achieved everything you wanted.”