Love Me if You Dare: Pristine Darkness

Chapter 72

Jian Yao did not expect to receive Luo Langs phone call at this time.

The stars were sparse in the night sky as the police car moved along the road. Bo Jinyan was sitting next to Jian Yao. She took the call and said, Hello, Lao Luo?

Fang Qing, who was driving, heard her. An Yan was helping to sort through the data at the main city station, so there were only three people in the car.

It was especially quiet on Luo Langs end of the line, as if he were in some empty and quiet location. He softly asked, Jian Yao, how busy have you guys been in these past few days?

Jian Yao replied, Its still ok. The case is progressing.

Is that butterfly killer causing you a lot of headaches?

Jian Yao asked, Youve also heard about it?

Yes, it was on the television.

Yeah. Jian Yao sighed and continued, Another person has just died.

You will catch the killer, Luo Lang gently affirmed.

Jian Yao smiled. Uhm. Why are you calling in the middle of the night? Did something happen?

What else is there except that Im concerned about the two of you. Anyway, I figured you guys were investigating, and that you are working around the clock*. So, I might as well just call you now. From your voice, you sound like youre in great spirits. Dont stay up late too often. Especially Fang Qing, tell him, men who stay up late are causing harm to their bodies.

*T/N (zhou ye dian dao) lit. day and night turned upside down

In a flash, Jian Yao raised her head and said, Lao Luo says you should not stay up late too much, it harms the body.

Fang Qing smilingly replied, Fine. What is he doing? Its the middle of the night and hes not sleeping. He doesnt have to keep his girlfriend company?

Luo Lang heard him on the other end of the line and responded, I broke up with my girlfriend a few days ago, it was getting boring. Im also on a business trip outside the capital; it might be a-while before I return to Beijing. When I return, Ill meet up with you guys for a meal.

Jian Yao said, Sure. See you then.

After hanging up, Fang Qing laughed brightly as he said, This kid, dont tell me hes dumped a post-90s* girl again?

*T/N 90 refers to people born between 1990 and 1999, the post-90s generation. This generation has its distinct characteristics. More information here.

Jian Yao smiled faintly. You guessed it.

Fang Qing said, F**k, lets despise him together, then.

The night breeze gently wafted through the windows. Jian Yao gradually gained control of her smile. After she had done so, she realised that Bo Jinyan, sitting beside her, remained silent throughout. Because the two of them had cried while in the office previously, Jian Yaos eyes were still a little red. Although he was wearing sunglasses, his cheeks were still slightly flushed.

Jian Yao scrutinised him. Who knew, he was immediately aware of it, and asked, Luo Lang?

Yeah.

He sat without moving or speaking. In that posture, he looked slightly cold and wooden.

Suddenly, Jian Yao remembered a previous occasion, also in a car, when she had received Luo Langs call and readily addressed him as Luo dage. As a result, Bo Jinyan had seemed somewhat unhappy. She had asked him if he was jealous, but he had denied it. Then, in a rapid about-face, he had coaxed her to call him Jinyan gege.

We are only friends, Jian Yao softly explained.

I know, he responded. Following which, he had a little smile on his face.

He was always this direct in showing his happiness or unhappiness. Jian Yao felt her heart melt, and said lightly, You were not by my side, and I always need to be with friends.

He grasped her hand and said, Uhm. I also had An Yan by my side.

Fang Qing looked straight ahead at the night sky and the lighted street lamps. He had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but his heart was heavy.

They had reconciled, thats great.

Two people who really love one another would not bear being separated for even a minute or a second longer.

But, what about him? Him and his princess?

Why couldnt they be together now?

The body was found in an abandoned building off the road. At the moment, it was four in the morning. The initial deduction is that the time of death was in the wee hours of the morning, between 2 and 3 a.m.

Fang Qing parked the car by the roadside. Other police cars had surrounded the dilapidated building in an almost impenetrable ring. Jian Yao looked up and realised that Nie Shijuns neighbourhood was just across the street; it was even possible to see the roofs of the neighbourhood residences from this location. Bo Jinyan had previously inferred that this location would be where the killers main activities took place, and not the park. It turned out that he was right.

Bo Jinyan also stepped out of the car. He took a moment to sense the light and the sound of traffic around him. Clearly, this road was quite a busy one. Even in the middle of the night, cars were a constant presence. Looking at his contemplative appearance as he stood on the street and leaned on his walking stick, Jian Yao fell into a kind of daze.

Is there a traffic light in front? he asked.

Jian Yao replied, Yes, about 20 metres ahead. How did you know?

He only smiled faintly and turned to face across the road, intending to cross over. Then, after a heartbeat, he held out his hand towards her. Jian Yao was stunned for a split second before she put her hand in his.

So it was that nothing had really changed. Just, that night, he had held out his hand to her for the first time.

Several years later, he would stand on this street and hold out his hand to her once again.

However, this time, she was the one in the lead. She grasped his hand and walked forward slowly. No one knew that he held her hand more tightly. When she looked down, she could see his thin, quiet figure.

The noisy intersection fell silent abruptly. Fang Qing and Shao Yong, who had already crossed over, were watching them.

You could hear it? Jian Yao asked, referring to the existence of the traffic light.

A small smile lingered on Bo Jinyans lips as he replied, Uh-huh.

At this, Jian Yao felt a surge of happiness. She reasoned that Bo JInyan had already gradually grown accustomed to being blind and was even diligently utilising his sense of hearing in place of his sense of sight to make deductions. Although this was a very simple change, she felt that this was crucial to the very essence of Bo Jinyans life.

He was recovering, he was composed and at ease with himself, he was doing his best to maintain control over the vital aspects of Bo Jinyan-ness.

This was an empty, sparse room, probably built in the eighties, which had yet to be demolished. The paint on the doorway and walls was peeling off, and trash was strewn all over the ground. Thus, it was usually only tramps who lingered here.

The lights were also spoilt. Jian Yao and Bo Jinyan let go of each others hand as they walked through the doorway. Jian Yao and Fang Qing walked in front, Bo Jinyans walking stick tapped lightly on the ground as he followed them.

The deceased was in the inside room.

He was a middle-aged tramp.

The most striking sight picked out by the flashlight beams were the two lines of English written in red paint on the wall, followed by the corpse on the ground.

You will never catch me!

There will be another one.

The English words were arrogant and domineering, and red paint dripped from the letters, making them appear especially malevolent.

The body on the ground was the same as Nie Shijuns. A thin, weak tramp about 1.6 metres in height with bruises encircling his neck, his hands bound to the top of his head with rope, and his ankles bound as well. The ground beneath his body had been cleared of any debris so there was a clean patch, and a butterfly with red-patterned black wings had been painted there. A Papilio maraho.

Jian Yao and Fang Qing joined the intensive examination of the crime scene, while Bo Jinyan stood quietly in a corner. At some point, when Jian Yao looked up and saw him, she stared blankly for a moment. Then, she walked over to him and said softly, The deceased is lying on the ground about 1.5 metres in front of you. . .

Bo Jinyan said, Very good.

This time, the butterfly has been painted even more meticulously. The previous time, there were some rough edges and blemishes, but this time the painting is so neat and tidy that its as if it has been printed there.

He is finally enjoying the process, Bo Jinyan said. The writing on the wall . . .

Very carelessly written, Jian Yao answered. She had a sudden thought and pulled him over to the wall, then held his hand, slipped on a glove, and touched his gloved fingers to the words. In this way, he traced the words, character by character. The entire procedure was carried out in silence. The moonlight shone through the nearby window, and he could smell the fragrance of her hair when he lowered his head.

After he had traced all the words, Jian Yao looked at him and asked, Is it clear?

He replied, Clear.

Jian Yao smiled briefly before asking, What else do you want to look at?

Take me to see the remaining furnishings in this place.

Jian Yao nodded and took his hand once again and led him to touch the items, explaining as she did so, The deceased is a tramp who must have made this place his temporary refuge. There are a lot of empty bottles in a corner, and there is a filthy cotton-padded mattress on the floor. Theres also a small coal stove, and a very battered iron cooking pot . . .

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