Lin Kun, born in 1973, hails from Yao City County. After graduating from university, he taught at a middle school in Yao City for three years. In 1998, he went to study in the United States and was admitted to Washington University with an outstanding academic record and a full scholarship.
His parents’ occupation was listed as factory workers, with only primary school education.
After the discovery of Lin Kun’s body, Washington University attempted to contact his parents without success. A year later, not having heard from Lin Kun, his parents reached out to the school only to learn that their beloved son had been murdered a year prior, which left them devastated.
His parents initially wanted to travel to the U.S. to retrieve their son’s remains but for unknown reasons, the trip never happened. Subsequently, Washington University lost contact with them.
This information was sent over by Long De.
Zhao Yunzhi had it sent within ten minutes, without any compromise.
The impact on Meng Jin was greater than when he first watched an adult film. Not just because of Long De’s differential treatment, but more so because he realized that his esteemed rival didn’t even consider him a threat.
Contempt, no, it was disregard.
“Meng Team, do you have something against me? I feel like you’re giving me strange looks, like how Li Mochou looks at Lu Zhanyuan,” despite Meng Jin’s restraint, Zhao Yunzhi still noticed.
Meng Jin didn’t respond and focused on analyzing the case.
Lin Kun was an only child and was unmarried at the time of his murder. If the murderer was seeking revenge, it was most likely one of his parents. Considering the victim, Liu Tianshi, had a robust build, the murderer was probably male, making Lin Kun’s father a more likely suspect.
The next day, Meng Jin and Zhao Yunzhi headed to Yao City, following the address in the file to find Lin Kun’s home. What was once a residential area had turned into a commercial street, with no traces of the past left.
With no other choice, they sought help from the local police station. Over twenty years had passed, and with all new faces around, no one recognized Lin Kun.
The station chief, knowing they came from B City, warmly received them and went out of his way to assist, eventually contacting a retired beat cop.
The beat cop, known as Old Yu, was 69 years old and had embraced the digital age, shooting daily short videos on TikTok and amassing tens of thousands of followers. Enthusiastic about increasing his follower count, he spent his days outside, rarely home, constantly brainstorming how to gain more followers and sharing tips with fellow enthusiasts.
In the park, a group of elderly men and women were gathered, singing and playing music leisurely. The station chief pointed to an old man filming with his phone; that was Old Yu.
Old Yu’s attire surprised Meng Jin: blue washed jeans, a yellow and black baseball jacket, a yellow baseball cap, and a black cross-body bag. Among the crowd of elderly in dark, muted colors, he stood out significantly.
The station chief introduced them, explained their purpose, and Old Yu, looking thoughtful, acknowledged, “The Lin family, I know them.” He sighed, recalling how their story had shocked Yao City, a tragedy well-known among the older generation.
Old Yu revealed that Lin Kun’s father, Lin Jiancai, was a lumber mill worker, taking over his grandfather’s position. Named ‘Jiancai’ because he was born in a lumber mill, Lin Kun was the prized only child in a lineage of single children. Among the few college graduates from that mill area, Lin Kun stood out, and his father would boast about him proudly. After college, Lin Kun didn’t stay in the city but returned to Yao City to teach, which upset Lin Jiancai so much that they reportedly didn’t speak for a year.
After Lin Kun went abroad, Lin Jiancai could once again hold his head high, filled with pride every time he spoke of his son. He mentioned that his son might stay in the U.S., and they planned to join him after retirement, speaking with a mix of pride and worry.
One day, Lin Jiancai rushed to the police station to process documents for traveling abroad. Initially, everyone thought he was visiting his son and was happy for him, but his somber expression suggested otherwise. He evaded questions until pressed, finally admitting he was going to see his son. It was only after his wife was burned to death that everyone realized Lin Kun had died in the U.S.
The night before they were to leave for B City to catch a flight, tragedy struck. Old Yu, returning home from work, saw Lin Jiancai at a food stall drinking late into the night. Concerned, he urged Lin Jiancai to go home to rest for their early trip. Lin Jiancai said he couldn’t sleep and was drinking to pass out eventually.
Old Yu, worried he’d miss his train, reluctantly walked him home. As they reached his apartment, they saw flames through the windows; Lin Jiancai’s home was on fire.
Lin Jiancai, snapped out of his drunken stupor, rushed into the blazing house. The intense smoke and flames obscured everything, with loud crackling sounds of burning wood all around. He screamed his wife’s name and braved the choking smoke and fierce flames to reach the bedroom, but it was too late. Lin Kun’s mother was already burned beyond recognition.
Distraught, Lin Jiancai refused to let go of his wife’s charred body until Old Yu risked his life to drag him out.
Old Yu rolled up his sleeves, showing burns larger than his palm, the new skin rough and discolored, a stark reminder of the pain endured.
“Heartbreaking,” Old Yu said, smoking a cigarette, his eyes gleaming as he watched people dance in the square. He explained that Lin Kun’s mother had been unable to eat or sleep after learning of her son’s death. Lin Jiancai, worried she couldn’t survive the grief, had forcibly given her sleeping pills and turned on an electric blanket for her, then went out to drink.
The electric blanket overheated and started the fire. Lin Kun’s mother died a horrific death, her body contorted in agony.
After the fire, the police investigated and ruled out foul play. The bedroom drawer was open, scissors on the floor; they speculated Lin Kun’s mother, unable to bear the pain, might have tried to end her life with the scissors but failed.
Lin Jiancai insisted she was reaching for her son’s photo, wanting to see him one last time before she died. No photo was found, possibly burned to ashes.
After burying his wife, Lin Jiancai lost the will to work. The lumber mill, sympathizing with his loss, gave him paid leave. A month later, he still hadn’t returned, and upon investigation, they discovered he had vanished.
No one knew where he went. Some claimed to have seen him at the train station, others on the streets, and some at the cemetery, but his whereabouts remained unclear.
Old Yu was the only witness to the tragedy and had never seen a man as devastated as Lin Jiancai. He sympathized with his plight and roamed the city on his bike, hoping to find him somewhere.
Some speculated that Lin Jiancai might have gone to the U.S. to retrieve his son’s ashes.
Old Yu used his connections to check travel records at train and bus stations but found no trace of Lin Jiancai. It was as if he had vanished from the earth.
Meng Jin told Old Yu that Lin Jiancai hadn’t gone to the U.S. to collect his son’s ashes. “Does he have any close friends or relatives he might have gone to? Or someone who owed him money he might have gone to collect from? Any place he might have gone, any person he might have sought out, can you think of anything?”
Old Yu, removing his baseball cap and scratching his head, chuckled, “You suspect Old Lin of murder?”
Meng Jin replied, “If he’s still alive, we can’t rule out that possibility.”
Old Yu sighed, “Old Lin was a good man; he wouldn’t kill unless driven to the edge.”
“Do you know if Lin Kun had any girlfriends?” Meng Jin asked.
Old Yu said he only knew Lin Kun was excellent but didn’t know him deeply.
Old Yu listed a few of Lin Jiancai’s remaining relatives and Lin Kun’s old neighbors, unsure of their contact information, and asked the station chief to look them up through the registration office.
Finally, Meng Jin sincerely thanked Old Yu and politely invited him to dinner, recognizing the need to maintain good relations sometimes.
Old Yu waved his hand, declining the meal, but made a request for Zhao Yunzhi to appear in one of his short videos. With a handsome man in the video, the views would spike significantly.
Meng Jin realized why Old Yu had been smiling at Zhao Yunzhi; he had been eyeing this opportunity all along.
Zhao Yunzhi agreed to be in the video, but not as a police officer—just as a good-looking bystander.
That night, Meng Jin and Zhao Yunzhi stayed in Yao City. The next day, they began visiting Lin Jiancai’s relatives.
The first was Lin Jiancai’s cousin, an old man nearing seventy with dementia, lucid one moment and confused the next. Though it seemed unlikely to yield useful information, he was Lin Jiancai’s closest living relative, and Meng Jin, holding onto a slim hope, stepped into the old man’s room, which smelled strongly of urine.
The old man’s children were not around, only a middle-aged housekeeper was present. The smell alone indicated that the old man’s children rarely visited, otherwise the housekeeper wouldn’t have been so neglectful.
Meng Jin wished he could bring his mother to see this, to show her that the era of raising children for security in old age was long gone. Marriage and childbirth were not mandatory life courses.
Meng Jin asked the old man, “Has Lin Jiancai contacted you over all these years?”
