Chapter 7

“After Ngô Duyệt died, he often dressed up as her and sat in front of the mirror for long stretches.”

My tears started again.

“Lâm Thanh Thần killed Mạnh Tuyền. He wanted revenge for her.

“But the one who deserved to die was me. I was the one who caused her death.”

Dương Trác's answer was calm.

“Someone like Mạnh Tuyền is no loss.”

He held out a hand.

“Let's go home. Stop thinking about it.”

I wiped my tears and said awkwardly, “My leg cramped when I went into the water.”

“I'll carry you.”

He carried me on his back along the village road.

I knew people would gossip if they saw us.

I no longer cared.

I had decided to turn myself in.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

“Thank you for being here for me all this time.”

“It's nothing.”

“I still don't know how old you are.”

“Two years older than Lâm Thanh Thần.”

“So... twenty-six?”

“Yes.”

Exactly eight years younger than me.

How good it was to be young, with endless possibilities still ahead.

Not like me.

Half my life had been spent tossed about, and what remained seemed all but settled.

“Oh, right.”

Something occurred to me.

“Why did you and Lâm Thanh Thần fight?”

He was silent for a while.

“Over a confession.”

“You wanted him to turn himself in?”

He didn't answer.

He just bent down and set me by the roadside.

“You go on home.”

I didn't intend to ask any more.

I would leave everything to the police.

After we parted, I suddenly wanted to visit Ngô Duyệt's grave.

She and Lâm Thanh Thần had grown up together, so she must have been from the village too. Surely she would be buried here.

I stopped an elderly farmer passing with a hoe over his shoulder and asked whether he knew where her grave was.

“Little Duyệt? She's buried behind the lotus pond on the east side of the village.”

He sighed softly.

“She's been gone seven or eight years. Her mother cried herself blind, then fell into the river and died. Such an unfortunate family...”

Her mother was dead too?

Indirectly, I had caused another death.

Another burden of guilt settled on my shoulders, so heavy I could barely breathe.

I said goodbye to the old man and hurried toward her grave.

It was surprisingly easy to find.

Amid the overgrown countryside, a path of spaced paving bricks curved around the lotus pond and ended at a dark headstone.

The inscription read:

“Beloved sister, Ngô Duyệt.”

Several fresh lotus flowers lay on the offering table. Someone must have visited recently.

The old man had told me, “She loved lotuses, so her brother buried her beside the pond. It's village land, but nobody objected. Everyone felt sorry for her.”

I laid the lotuses I had just picked before her grave and sank to my knees.

I'm sorry... it was me...

Just as I was about to confess, some other lettering caught my eye.

In the lower left corner of the headstone, I could clearly make out the firmly carved words:

“Her brother, Dương Trác.”

Her brother?

Dương Trác was Ngô Duyệt's brother?

Ngô Duyệt was his sister?

I stared at the words, my mind blank.

I had known about her relationship with Lâm Thanh Thần.

But Dương Trác...

I had never known he was her brother.

“Yes. I'm the killer.”

“A dead person isn't much different from a dead pig.”

“He was scum. He deserved to die.”

His earlier remarks echoed in my head.

Something seemed about to click into place.

I went cold all over.

He had just said he and Lâm Thanh Thần had fought over someone turning himself in.

Then perhaps the person who meant to confess was him, not Lâm Thanh Thần.

Again, I ran headlong through the fields.

This time, straight to Lâm Thanh Thần's house.

I had a feeling Dương Trác would be there.

Ten or so minutes later, I burst into the courtyard.

Just as I had thought, the two men were sitting opposite each other.

At the noise, both looked up.

“You never told me...” I panted. “You're Ngô Duyệt's brother!”

My sudden arrival didn't surprise him.

“What would telling you have changed?”

I stared at him.

“You killed Mạnh Tuyền, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

His reply was casual.

“I told you from the beginning. I'm the killer.”

“But...” I stammered.

“Stop worrying about it.”

He sounded suddenly irritated.

“I told you. He was scum. He's dead, so he's dead.

“My sister died in his laboratory. Whatever happened, he couldn't escape responsibility.

“Don't dwell on it.”

I didn't understand at all.

“What he means,” Lâm Thanh Thần said quietly, “is that you don't need to think about turning yourself in.”

That made even less sense.

“I've already called the police to confess,” Dương Trác said. “They should be here soon.

“You don't have to blame yourself so much.

“On my sister's behalf... I forgive you.

“And yes, I killed Mạnh Tuyền.

“There's nothing more to say about it.”

“How can there be nothing more to say?” My voice caught.

“I caused your sister's death.

“I should have turned myself in years ago...”

He suddenly rose.

His tall figure loomed over me.

“Stop being so stubborn.”

I looked into those deep, dark eyes, completely unable to understand him.

Behind him, Lâm Thanh Thần covered his face and sighed.

“Could you two stop arguing?

“Mạnh Tuyền's dead anyway.”

At some point, he had stopped calling him “Professor Mạnh.”

Then Dương Trác spoke.

“He raped my sister.”

I froze.

“You told me what he did, didn't you?

“My sister was one of his many victims.

“So whether or not you made a mistake, I would still have sent him to hell myself.”

Of course.

I should have thought of it long ago.

This was Mạnh Tuyền.

The moment I saw her photograph in Lâm Thanh Thần's room, I should have guessed.

She had attended the same university.

She had been in his lab.

How could he have left a beautiful young woman like her alone?

What he did best was use every means he could to possess and destroy those lovely girls.

That explained why Lâm Thanh Thần had been so determined to ruin him.

The woman he loved had been violated by that scum.

Who wouldn't hate him?

And Dương Trác's hatred had driven him to kill him outright.

He looked at me intently.

“Do you understand now?

“You don't need to turn yourself in.”

For a moment, I didn't know what to do.

Before, I had endured Mạnh Tuyền's torment to escape responsibility for my own actions.

Later, after losing the baby, my desire to escape him had gradually died too.

However he treated me, I no longer thought of leaving.

During those dark years, I had begun reading Buddhist scriptures.

One line said:

“All things are empty; cause and consequence are not.”

That line had made everything clearer to me.

All my suffering was simply retribution.

The night I found Vương Mạn Mạn's body in the freezer, it wasn't her corpse that kept me awake.

It was another young woman.

The girl whose death I had caused years earlier.

Another pitiful figure, curled in the same position, covered in frost.

What I hadn't expected was that when I finally found the courage to confess, her family would forgive me so readily.

I was utterly lost.

“Then please,” I said softly, “tell me everything that happened.”

Dương Trác sat down again and tipped his chin toward Lâm Thanh Thần.

“You tell her.

“You know where to begin.”

After a thoughtful pause, Lâm Thanh Thần began slowly.

“Years ago, Mạnh Tuyền was almost a god to us.

“Our admiration for him was what drove us to work so hard to get into university.”

As he spoke, the past unfolded like a painting.

Since primary school, Lâm Thanh Thần, Dương Trác, and Ngô Duyệt had known about the older boy named Mạnh from East Village who had got into university.

Later, he had earned his master's and PhD, becoming the village's greatest pride.

In that simple rural community, people talked about him in the fields and along the embankments, always full of praise.

Even in class, teachers used their former pupil's achievements to encourage the children.

Little by little, admiration took root in all three of them.

When they were in middle school, he had returned to teach a few lessons.

Cultivated, funny, and knowledgeable, he quickly became an idol to the younger pupils.

To those three, faith in him became almost absolute.

In time, each gained admission to A University, his alma mater and the best university in the province.

Dương Trác went first, being two years older than Ngô Duyệt and Lâm Thanh Thần.

When Mạnh Tuyền learned that a new student in the department came from his village, he repeatedly sought him out, showing great concern and offering help.

Back then, Dương Trác knew nothing of his true character and constantly praised him to the other two.

“You should both apply to A University.

“Mạnh is a really good guy!”

In those days, Dương Trác had still been full of enthusiasm.

Eventually, the three young people, brimming with ambition, were reunited at university.

Each dreamed of building a brilliant career in their field, just as Mạnh Tuyền had.

Hearing that two more young people from the village had entered the university where he taught, he was delighted and found an opportunity to take all three out for a meal.

That was the first time he met Ngô Duyệt.

She was pretty, with skin as fair as a fresh lotus root and two sweet dimples whenever she smiled. People couldn't help liking her.

The instant his gaze settled on her, his filthy desire began to take root.

Learning that she studied photography, he adopted a humble manner.

“One of the classes I'm teaching involves biological photography, but I don't know anything about art.

“Could you give me some pointers?”

“Would I... be able to help?” she asked hesitantly.

He smiled and nodded with complete confidence.

She happily agreed.

Looking back, it was obviously wrong.

A university lecturer wanting to learn about another field should have asked a colleague.

Why approach a first-year student who had only just arrived?

“We all knew he was married,” Lâm Thanh Thần said softly, “and that his wife was very beautiful.

“None of us thought of anything like that.”

Afterward, Ngô Duyệt went to his laboratory many times at his invitation.

Throughout that period, he showed no sign of anything unusual.

Until one day, when they were alone in the lab.

She was preparing to photograph an experiment when the equipment suddenly broke down.

Her family wasn't well off.

And the equipment belonged to the university.

Its sudden failure frightened her terribly. It was expensive.

Seeing her distress, he offered to take her out to get it repaired.

It was already evening, but she feared her teacher would discover the next day that she had broken it.

She agreed.

“Thank you, Professor Mạnh.”

That night, she got into his car without the slightest suspicion.

Like an innocent angel walking straight into a devil's trap.

“The equipment never did get repaired,” Lâm Thanh Thần said, his voice full of pain.

“But after that night, she was like a different person.

“She became withdrawn and depressed. She was even afraid of being around people.”