Chapter 8

By then, I understood.

Ngô Duyệt had grown up in a simple, peaceful village. Dương Trác and Lâm Thanh Thần had protected her too well. She had never learned how cruel people could be.

To her, Mạnh Tuyền was a senior worthy of admiration for both his talent and his character. An idol. Someone to believe in.

Who could have imagined then that he deserved no one's worship?

Not long after that night, she had died in his laboratory.

“At first, we knew nothing about what he'd done. Later, a girl named Hứa Ngọc Dao was pursuing Dương Trác. She told him something, and we began to suspect him.

“She said she'd had sex with Mạnh Tuyền, and that he wasn't nearly as gentle and harmless as he looked. Only then did we realize how much danger we'd put Duyệt Duyệt in.

“But we had no evidence. Whatever we suspected, we couldn't do anything to him.”

After her death, Dương Trác had forced himself to keep going until graduation.

Lâm Thanh Thần had taken several years' leave from university. Only this year, with the help of some connections, had he returned.

Last month, while cleaning his room, Dương Trác had happened to find his sister's old diary.

In it, she had clearly recorded how Mạnh Tuyền had sexually assaulted her.

He had been searching for evidence like that for seven years.

But ever since her death, he had lived under a cloud of grief, with no heart for putting his home in order.

So the truth had arrived seven years late.

Afternoon was fading.

I heard police sirens approaching from a distance.

Dương Trác stood and walked toward the door.

“I don't regret killing him,” he said.

The day after his arrest, the police took him to the scene to reconstruct the crime.

According to his statement, he had begun planning the murder after finding his sister's diary the previous month.

He followed Mạnh Tuyền for a week, waiting for an opportunity.

When he saw him go to a bar three days running to approach the same woman, he knew his chance was coming.

The woman was Vương Mạn Mạn.

Lâm Thanh Thần had once happened to see secretly taken photographs of the pair on Dương Trác's computer. That was why he had recognized her that day.

“After he left Vương Mạn Mạn, I saw him book a ride,” Dương Trác said.

“He was very drunk, so I pretended to be the driver he'd called. He didn't suspect a thing and got straight into the car.

“He was drunk and had just satisfied himself. Like an animal after a full meal, he'd completely let his guard down. It was easy to knock him unconscious, then tape his mouth and nose shut.”

That was how he had killed him.

Afterward, to remove fingerprints, he had taken the body to the pork market and hosed it down for a long time.

Before dawn, he dumped it on a stall.

Everyone knew the rest.

I met Officer Trần again at the station.

“We've caught the killer,” he said, “but you don't seem very happy.”

I nodded.

“There's nothing much to be happy about.”

He sighed.

“We've established most of what Mạnh Tuyền did. Ms. Lý, are you still going to tell us he was a gentle, considerate husband?”

I stopped pretending.

“He was scum.”

After I told him about the abuse, he sighed again.

“Given what you went through, you could have sought protection under the law.”

I said nothing.

I was hiding from the law's punishment myself. What right did I have to seek its protection?

“Will what Mạnh Tuyền did help reduce Dương Trác's sentence?” I asked.

“It will have some bearing. But whatever the circumstances, he still has to face the punishment he deserves.”

I nodded and said goodbye.

Three days after Dương Trác's arrest, after a long struggle with myself, I decided to turn myself in.

I hadn't expected Officer Trần's words to strike me like a blow to the head, leaving me shaken long afterward.

“Why do you think you had anything to do with Ngô Duyệt's death?” he asked.

“Because I forgot to check whether anyone was still in the cold room...”

I told him everything.

He was silent for a long time.

When he spoke again, there was only compassion in his eyes.

“Ms. Lý, Mạnh Tuyền was lying to you all along.

“That girl really did take her own life. Because of his case, we've reviewed her file several times over the past few days.

“The autopsy report from that year shows that on the evening you went to get him to sign the divorce agreement, she was already dead.”

I watched his lips move.

Suddenly, my ears rang.

My head seemed to burst.

My mind went blank.

How could that be?

How could it be?

“By the time police and medical personnel arrived, she'd been dead for almost two days. What he told you was probably meant to bind you to him.

“From the timing you've described, he'd found the body the night before you went there. Instead of calling the police, he called you and asked you to come the next day.

“He wanted to use that body to keep you with him.

“According to students from that year, there was supposed to be a class taking first-years through the cold room that day. He abruptly canceled it.

“Probably because he was afraid someone would find the body first. That further supports my conclusion.”

Officer Trần continued.

“She left a suicide note at the scene. Her roommates confirmed that she'd been in a very unstable state at the time. The police ruled it a suicide seven years ago.

“Unfortunately, she didn't mention Mạnh Tuyền in the note. He also insisted he hadn't opened the cold room for two days.

“It was unusual that the body went undiscovered for that long, but it wasn't investigated further. We never imagined you held the missing piece.

“Looking back, perhaps the physical and psychological trauma of the assault drove her to take her own life.

“And they used to idolize him. At that age, having your faith in someone shattered can be terribly hard to bear.”

“But he clearly told me...”

I couldn't accept the truth.

“Do you think the police are that easily fooled? Having a PhD doesn't put someone above the law. You're still too naïve.”

Finally, he said, “So, Ms. Lý, if anything happens in the future, come to the police sooner.”

He patted my shoulder, shook his head with a sigh, and left.

I stood there, stunned, feeling the world spin.

Eyes wide, I looked around without seeing.

Just then, a commotion broke out nearby.

The police were escorting Dương Trác.

Unable to stop myself, I rushed over, seized his collar, and demanded, “You knew all along, didn't you?

“You even said you'd forgiven me!

“You're just like Mạnh Tuyền. You lied to me too!

“Why did you have to lie to me?

“Why did you have to lie to me?”

I screamed like a madwoman.

Officers quickly pulled me away and sternly warned me not to cause a disturbance.

I had no strength left.

My legs gave way, and I sank to my knees, sobbing.

Dương Trác's low voice reached me.

“Could someone give her some tissues?”

He didn't say it outright, but I knew.

He understood what I meant.

In more than thirty years of life, I had never cried like this.

Those seven years I thought I had spent paying for my sins had been a joke.

Seven years.

How many seven-year stretches of youth does anyone get?

I had even lost my little angel.

It wasn't:

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

It was:

“Life holds countless sorrows; only we can find our own way through.”

The chains clinked again.

They led Dương Trác out of the station.

Before he went through the door, he turned and moved his lips.

“I'm sorry.”

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall.

18

Three months later, his trial took place as scheduled.

Before it, Lâm Thanh Thần and I went back to the village several times.

At Ngô Duyệt's grave, he told me, “Dương Trác didn't mean to hide it from you. He only found out recently that Mạnh Tuyền had tricked you into believing you'd caused Duyệt Duyệt's death.

“When you talked that day, he realized you'd stayed with him all those years out of guilt. He was afraid the truth would be too much for you, that you'd fall apart.”

No wonder, when he told Lâm Thanh Thần to explain the past, Dương Trác had only said, “You know how to tell it.”

It had been a reminder.

What to say. What not to say.

He had already discussed it with Lâm Thanh Thần. They deliberately glossed over the circumstances of her death.

All because he was afraid of hurting me.

“He's been quietly watching Mạnh Tuyền for years, so he knows a lot about you.

“He was even the one who took you to the hospital when you lost the baby.

“He always thought you put up with the beatings and torment because you loved Mạnh Tuyền so much. He said if he'd known you weren't fighting back because you'd been deceived, he would have found a way to save you long ago.

“I still remember him saying, years back, that he thought he'd fallen for someone he shouldn't.

“It was raining that day. He saw Mạnh Tuyền abuse you. Afterward, you came out covered in injuries and found him soaked to the skin.

“You were hurt yourself, but you still gave him your umbrella. You didn't even know each other then.”

I smoothed my windblown hair and smiled at myself.

“I don't even remember.”

“He wouldn't let me tell you. Since Duyệt Duyệt died, he never shows what he's feeling.

“But you can't hide it when you like someone.

“The answer's behind those bushes. Go and look.”

I couldn't understand what else they were keeping from me.

Through the mist, I pushed the grass aside.

Not far from Ngô Duyệt's headstone was a smaller one.

Its inscription read:

“Nguyệt Nguyệt's little angel.”

My baby.

In shock, I covered my mouth.

Hot tears fell between my trembling fingers.

“When I heard Mạnh Tuyền was dead, I didn't know Dương Trác had killed him. He denied it that day too. I thought he'd committed so many terrible things that some other enemy had come for revenge.

“But I found out later. I fought with Dương Trác.

“I hated that he'd ruined his future over a piece of scum. I told him to turn himself in.

“He agreed. But he kept saying he was worried about you.”

Lâm Thanh Thần looked at me and spoke slowly.

“Ms. Lý, those seven years of your life weren't a joke.

“Someone loved you all along.”

At last, he was no longer calling me his professor's wife.

I stood before the little grave for a long time.

Only when the sun had disappeared behind the hills did I say, “Let's go.”

Afterward, I attended Dương Trác's trial.

Everyone in the courtroom wore a mask, including him.

But I could still see those eyes.

Dark and deep as ink.

When they met mine, he looked away.

He must still have thought I blamed him.

What a fool.

I submitted a petition asking the court for leniency.

It infuriated Mạnh Tuyền's parents, but I didn't regret it.

Several hours later, the court delivered its verdict.

Dương Trác was sentenced to ten years in prison.

When he heard it, I was the first person he looked at.

He didn't appeal.

Afterward, I had my household registration booklet updated.

At last, the name of the head of the household changed from Mạnh Tuyền's to mine.

I divided his estate with his parents in the legally prescribed proportions.

In the end, I received an apartment and almost a million yuan in savings.

Once everything was settled, I went with Lâm Thanh Thần to visit Dương Trác.

After they had finished talking, I calmly sat down at the glass partition and picked up the telephone.

His hair had been cut close, making him look even colder and tougher.

Yet when he saw me, he seemed awkward.

“Are you settling in?”

Visiting time was precious. I broke the silence.

He nodded.

“And you?”

“I'm all right.”

Then neither of us knew what to say.

He was so nervous that he kept rubbing his hands together.

I laughed.

I breathed onto the glass and traced a heart with my finger.

Honestly. An old woman like me knew nothing about romance. It was a little corny.

But he smiled.

A bright smile that showed all his white teeth.

He placed a fingertip against the glass.

I raised mine to the same spot.

Fingertip to fingertip, separated by the pane.

Just like a children's game.

“Behave yourself in there,” I said.

“I'll wait for you.”

He nodded hard.

“I will.”

That Lunar New Year, he sent three letters.

One for Ngô Duyệt.

One for Lâm Thanh Thần.

And one for me.

Lâm Thanh Thần and I burned the letter to Ngô Duyệt before her grave.

As for mine, I waited until New Year's Eve fireworks blossomed across the sky before carefully opening it.

On the white paper, in strong, firm handwriting, he had written:

“There are two moons in my life.

One has fallen beyond the horizon;
each night, I can only look up.

One hangs within my heart;
each day, I long for her.”

The End.