“Did Lin Kun’s mother say that the child was Lin Kun’s?” Meng Jin asked.
He and Zhao Yunzhi had come to the police station, asking the chief to help find the report from years ago. The chief laughed, explaining that finding records from over twenty years ago would be difficult; even those from ten years ago might not be easily accessible.
Ultimately, they had to turn to Old Yu, the only living policeman from Lin Kun’s neighborhood from over twenty years ago who could still clearly articulate the past events.
They were now sitting in Old Yu’s living room. Meng Jin noticed freshly washed clothes hanging on the balcony—bright and fashionable, suggesting a young person might live there. In the corner was equipment for live streaming, including professional lighting, showing that Old Yu was indeed serious about managing his TikTok account.
“Yeah,” Old Yu replied, dressed in a dark green sweatshirt with a silver chain around his neck and three rings on his fingers, looking more fashionable than Zhao Yunzhi.
“Did she explicitly admit that Lin Kun raped the child’s mother?”
Old Yu chuckled, “If she had said that, Lin Kun wouldn’t have been able to go abroad. Of course, she didn’t say that. But she was evasive and unclear, wouldn’t say who the child’s mother was or where she was. She mentioned that the child’s mother had planned to marry Lin Kun but then changed her mind. Rape is just my guess.”
“Or rather,” Old Yu continued, “it’s what Lin Kun’s mother led me to believe. The claim from the boy’s parents that the child was kidnapped is certainly not credible. Why would an unmarried young man kidnap a child? It doesn’t make sense. If the child wasn’t kidnapped, bought, or found, then the only possibility left is that the child is Lin Kun’s own. If it were his, why wouldn’t he marry the mother? Since the mother’s whereabouts and identity are shrouded in secrecy, she might be dead or unwilling to marry Lin Kun, which leads me to believe she was coerced.”
Old Yu’s analysis was confident, his face shining with a confidence reminiscent of a detective from a mystery novel.
Meng Jin internally criticized the sloppy work of the era, where cases were judged without proper investigation based on one-sided stories. What if the child really was kidnapped by Lin Kun? Although it seemed unlikely, appearances can be deceiving. Who really knew what Lin Kun was thinking?
He caught Zhao Yunzhi’s gaze, which carried a hint of shared skepticism. Meng Jin shook his head slightly, signaling Zhao Yunzhi to keep quiet.
“Did you ever compare the blood types of Lin Kun and the child?” Meng Jin asked. Given the advanced technology of DNA testing, it was unlikely that a small town police station would have used it twenty years ago, so he asked about blood type instead.
“Why bother with that?” Old Yu said dismissively, waving a hand. “There’s no need. I asked around, and Lin Kun cared deeply for the child. If the child wasn’t his own, why would he bother? Believe me, the child is definitely his own.”
Meng Jin nodded solemnly, his face a mask of agreement, though inside, he felt a rush of frustration. He couldn’t afford to offend Old Yu as they might need more information from him later, and expectations for a small-town police officer, especially from decades ago, couldn’t be too high.
“Where did the child end up going?” Zhao Yunzhi refilled Old Yu and the chief’s tea cups thoughtfully, then checked Meng Jin’s, which was still full.
Old Yu praised Zhao Yunzhi for being both handsome and considerate, took a few sips of tea, and then said, “His mother took him away later.”
“Why did she suddenly take the child?”
“I don’t know, that’s just what Lin Kun’s mom said.” Old Yu seemed to sense Meng Jin’s disappointment and added with a smile, “It’s their family matter, and there was no crime committed, so it’s not really our place to pry, right?”
Neither the neighbors nor Old Yu could remember exactly when the child’s mother took him away, sometime between ages four and five. After that, and even until Lin Kun went abroad and his mother’s tragic incident, no one had seen the child again.
If the child were still alive, he would be around thirty now, certainly capable of handling Liu Tianshi’s body on his own, making him a more suitable suspect for the second murderer than Lin Jiancai, Lin Kun’s father. Could the child, once known as Lin Dongzhi, be the murderer?
Had Lin Dongzhi changed his name after leaving the Lin family?
Is Lin Kun really Lin Dongzhi’s biological father? For now, assume he is. He loved the child deeply, but after the child left, would he have gone to see him? Could their father-son relationship have endured?
Lin Kun was murdered in 2000 when Lin Dongzhi was only six or seven years old—a child that age has almost no memory. How deep could his feelings for Lin Kun have been?
However, if the murderer was Lin Dongzhi, it would explain why he waited more than twenty years to act—he was too young to seek revenge earlier and waited until he was older.
How then did he learn the details of Lin Kun’s murder? Someone must have told him.
“Meng Team, this is easy to explain,” Zhao Yunzhi analyzed confidently. “Lin Jiancai lost his son and his wife, then left home and found Lin Dongzhi. He waited for Lin Dongzhi to grow up and then told him it was Liu Tianshi who killed Lin Kun. The reason it took more than twenty years was precisely to wait for Lin Dongzhi to grow up! Lin Jiancai wanted Lin Dongzhi to personally avenge his father’s death.”
Meng Jin nodded, his instincts telling him things weren’t so simple, but Zhao Yunzhi’s reasoning did address many questions, especially why the second murderer waited so long—Lin Jiancai was waiting for Lin Dongzhi to grow up, a perfect explanation.
The courier who made the last call to Liu Tianshi could very well have been Lin Dongzhi, although he might have changed his name by then.
And the woman, Lin Dongzhi’s biological mother—who is she? Finding her could lead to Lin Dongzhi’s whereabouts or reveal if Lin Kun and Lin Jiancai had ever gone looking for Lin Dongzhi.
Lin Kun had graduated from the best university in Yao City, Yao Yuan University. Although not nationally prestigious, getting into any university twenty years ago was a remarkable achievement.
Unfamiliar with the place, Meng Jin asked the chief to help, and the chief arranged for a local professor to meet them.
Zhao Yunzhi found a well-reviewed restaurant online, insisting on leaving Yao City by the afternoon to settle in Yao City for dinner and the night. Meng Jin teased him for always thinking about food.
Indignant, Zhao Yunzhi claimed he always prioritized work, noting that he had just messaged Long De about the progress of an international package and shared his theories.
Meng Jin glared. “Did you tell him everything we found?”
Zhao Yunzhi sheepishly grinned, the answer clear. “I just wanted to see his take, see if my analysis was right.”
Meng Jin fell silent, recognizing his authority to regulate but not to control personal messages, though as a superior, he could enforce confidentiality.
“Zhao Yunzhi, you’ve already breached the principle of confidentiality,” he criticized sternly.
Zhao Yunzhi playfully stuck out his tongue, promising not to repeat the mistake.
Meng Jin waited for Zhao Yunzhi to continue, but he started scrolling through his phone instead—infuriating, but Meng Jin didn’t really want to hear Long De’s opinion anyway.
During dinner, Meng Jin asked when the international package would arrive. Zhao Yunzhi, busy enjoying pig brain and duck tongues, didn’t answer until after a large gulp of cold beer, “Probably in two or three days, around when we arrive in B City.”
Meng Jin wanted to capture Zhao Yunzhi’s eating antics—so much for looking dignified while eating hot pot.
Back at the hotel, after the usual evening routines, Zhao Yunzhi was engrossed in his games, seemingly oblivious to Meng Jin’s presence.
Nearly asleep, Meng Jin was jolted awake by Zhao Yunzhi’s sudden question, “Hey, Meng Team, wanna hear what Andy thinks?”
Meng Jin suspected Zhao Yunzhi was teasing him. Annoyed, he responded, “Just say it, then we can sleep.”
Zhao Yunzhi rolled around on his bed, laughing uproariously. “Meng Team, even you have your irritable moments. Your expression—so adorable!”
Adorable, indeed—Meng Jin couldn’t remember ever being described that way. Frustrated and unwilling to be the subject of amusement, he pulled the covers over his head like a turtle retracting into its shell.
Zhao Yunzhi, perhaps sensing the awkward tension between Meng Jin and Long De, suggested cautiously, “Andy gave us a couple of directions to investigate. If you’re tired, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
Meng Jin heard a muffled chuckle from behind. He sat up abruptly, “Zhao Yunzhi, are you messing with me? Finish what you started, then we can sleep!”
Zhao Yunzhi, still laughing, conceded, “Andy said my reasoning seems to solve all the mysteries but creates new ones. If Lin Jiancai was waiting for Lin Dongzhi to grow up to seek revenge, why wait until he was thirty? That’s the first point.
“Second, if Lin Dongzhi is Lin Jiancai’s grandson, would Lin Jiancai really turn his grandson into a murderer just for revenge? What kind of man is Lin Jiancai, to go to such lengths for vengeance?”
Meng Jin, pretending to sleep, listened closely. These were points he had considered too. Casually, he said, “Are you done? Let’s sleep early then.”
Zhao Yunzhi continued, “Andy also suggested two investigative directions. Meng Team, if you’re tired, sleep first, and we can discuss this tomorrow.”
Meng Jin listened to the faint laughter behind him and suddenly sat up, “Zhao Yunzhi, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Talk first, then sleep!”
Zhao Yunzhi rolled around the bed, laughing like a hyena. “Meng Team, even you have your moments. Your expression—it’s so cute.”
Adorable—a term rarely applied to Meng Jin. Rather than see Zhao Yunzhi or be seen, he pulled the covers over his head, embodying a turtle in its shell.
Zhao Yunzhi, though slow, sensed some tension between Meng Jin and Long De. It wasn’t clear, but it felt unnatural.
“Andy said we could investigate from two angles,” Zhao Yunzhi proposed, giving Meng Jin an out. “First, if Lin Jiancai was the murderer, he would have hidden close to Liu Tianshi. We should focus on the people around Liu Tianshi.
“Second, the Red Maple Tree. There’s only one red maple tree in B City. We need to find out when it appeared and who planted it. It might relate to the second murderer.”
