True Scripture

Du Jun gazed towards the stage, where the pipa was positioned.

“That was originally the location of the true scriptures,” Du Junzhang explained, pointing to a seat one chair away from him. “Sit down, I want to say a few words to you.”

Yu Zou sat down as instructed, and Du Junzhang said, "Pianjian's musical talent is entirely inherited from his mother. When he was little, he only looked a lot like Zhenjing, but now he looks like her in every way. Has he mentioned Zhenjing to you?"

"Yes, I have told you how you met your mother-in-law and how you named him after her."

"She came up with it. She was always very opinionated, lively and interesting. The world was a huge playground for her, and talent was her ticket to success. I was just an insignificant person in her colorful world. I wondered countless times why she chose me, but I could never ask her. At the time, I thought that if I didn't want the answer, I would rather not know. But in the end, I never had the chance to ask her again."

Yu Zou listened silently, a touch of sadness rising in his heart as he knew the ending of the story. When Du Pianjian was six years old, he was in a car accident, and Tan Zhenjing died from his injuries. From then on, he was without his mother.

"The medical report on Zhenjing's injuries clearly wasn't that serious, yet he died overnight. The hospital apologized quickly, offered compensation quickly, and cremated him quickly, but I'm the only one who feels something's wrong, so I'm the only one who's not right." Du Junzhang lowered his head slightly, his eyes behind his glasses blurry. He noticed something was amiss midway and requested an autopsy, but the medical report was fake, and the autopsy report could also be fake.

“My child is not normal either. I know you’ve always wanted to ask why? The answer is in Wangyuan, in his room.” Du Junzhang took out a key and handed it to Yu Zou. It was the key to the old house in Wangyuan, but he didn’t know what kind of lock it would open.

Yu Zou felt a chill run down his spine. He looked at the keys in his hand and asked, "Father-in-law, can't you just tell me directly?"

“How can a third person comment on something that involves only two people? Let’s go over there.” Du Junzhang stood up and walked towards the exit of the seating area. The intermission was only one hour long, and they had already been talking for more than ten minutes. Just as they reached the lounge, Yu Zou’s phone rang. He took it out, but then the sound went silent. Du Pianjian hung up the call and looked at Du Junzhang strangely: “Why are you taking so long? Dad?”

"It's nothing, I just saw it and wanted to say a few words." Du Junzhang walked to the table where the bouquets and gifts were placed with a normal expression. He looked at them one by one and stopped in front of a large bouquet of white flowers. A strange fragrance wafted into his nostrils, and his neck throbbed as if stimulated. He looked through the names of the givers, but there were no signatures.

Du Junchang turned to look at the two of them. Du Pianjian looked up at Yu Zou, who was leaning against the table. Yu Zou stroked his chin thoughtfully and tentatively said, "You want me to guess? Hmm..."

This scene seemed so familiar. Tan Zhenjing would also receive many bouquets after her performances, with Du Junchang among them. She would always be the first to speak, saying, "Don't tell me, I want to guess! That way, it will seem like we're on the same wavelength."

Du Junchang didn't know why she could always guess correctly. She only said, "Because only your flowers have the scent of flowers."

This scene felt like stepping back in time. On the day of the car accident, Tan Zhenjing had just finished the band's anniversary performance and received an unsigned bouquet of white flowers. Eighteen years have passed, and the tactics haven't changed at all; all that remains is contempt and insult.

As the melodious music began, the second half of the show was about to start, and people gradually returned. Because Yu Zou's seat was further inside, he naturally walked in front, while Du Junchang lagged behind. When Yu Zou was about to reach his seat to speak with Du Junchang, he discovered that Du Junchang hadn't followed at all, but was standing quietly in the aisle on the side of the stage.

Yu Zou was puzzled, and since it was noisy, he didn't want to shout. Following Du Junchang's gaze, he saw an old man with gray hair that was shiny and lustrous, sitting comfortably in his seat.

The hall fell silent. A person in the back row kindly reminded Yu Zou to sit down, as he was blocking the view of the audience behind him. Yu Zou apologized and slowly lowered his body. Before his pupils could dilate, a bullet pierced the old man's chest, sending blood-stained, tattered white petals flying into the sky.

Screams erupted, then another gunshot rang out, followed by silence.

Du Junzhang held a book in his left hand, his palm open, and the book opened naturally. His devout tone, like a prayer, echoed throughout the hall: "The true scripture is revealed here."

A playing card—the King of Hearts—was tucked in the center of the book.

Du Junzhang's right arm, which had been holding the gun, dropped to his sides. Du Pianjian rushed out, lifting the curtain, and his gaze met Yu Zou's. Both men saw surprise and worry in each other's eyes. Police officers rushed out from all sides and easily pinned Du Junzhang to the ground. His glasses flew off and slid into the pool of blood.

The concert was abruptly canceled, news of an Environment Ministry legislator shooting and killing a prominent businessman flooded the media, and the appearance of the King of Hearts further fueled the public outcry. The story of the gifted musician Tan Zhenjing was once again meticulously revisited, and embellished with a romantic twist, it became a hot topic of discussion.

The police questioned Yu Zou and Du Pianjian separately, especially during the intermission of more than ten minutes at the concert hall, where they questioned them repeatedly. Yu Zou insisted that he knew nothing about it, and even defined the key as an ordinary house key. Only then did they learn that the deceased was the head of the Luo family, the actual controller of the Nuoman Luomu Hotel—Luo Zangqi.

"Why were you watching Du Junzhang before he committed the crime?" The interrogator had changed again. This time, Yu Zou recognized him; he was He Can's partner.

"Because he didn't go back to his seat," Yu Zou answered truthfully.

He Can slammed a thick stack of news materials onto the table. The papers floated into Du Junchang's arms. There was a photo of Tan Zhenjing on them. He tried to straighten them, but when his wrist touched the cold handcuffs, he realized that he couldn't.

"Are you satisfied, Councilor Du? The public is panicking, losing trust in authoritative institutions, and turning to these playing card lords. Is this what you wanted?" He Can slammed his hands on the table, making a deafening sound.

Du Jun tilted his head, trying to make out the contents of the scattered documents, and said without changing his expression, "I told you, I didn't know there were playing cards in the book."

He pulled out a forensic report and handed it to him, his fingers practically poking holes in it: "Look closely! It only has your fingerprints on it."

"That doesn't mean I put it in there."

What a joke! He Can almost laughed in anger: "You said the book never left your body, so how did the playing cards just appear out of thin air?"

"This is something you police should investigate," Du Junzhang said calmly. "If a living person can go through three checkpoints—hospital, police, and crematorium—to achieve a social death, what's a mere playing card?"

He Can was speechless, his temples throbbing. A knock came from the interrogation room, signaling him to leave. He was unwilling but didn't move. The door opened, and a calm female voice said, "Alright, He Can, go out."

He suppressed his anger, closed the door, and went out. The police chief sat down in front of Du Junzhang, the badge on her shoulder shining brightly in the dark gray room. She neatly placed the documents in front of Du Junzhang and asked earnestly and respectfully, "Councilor Du, I thought our next meeting would be at a plenary session. Isn't that a pity?"

"Thank you, Director Feng." Du Junzhang pressed his hand on the document, carefully looking at the young face of Tan Zhenjing in the photo. A faint smile appeared on his oval face, and his sly eyes were also looking at Du Junzhang. "What's a pity?"

"The life you've gained. You used to be a politician, now you're a criminal."

“I don’t think I’m guilty; I’m just following the rules of society.”

"If you value the rules, why do you break them?"

"I wasn't the first to break the rules, and I didn't get the justice I wanted by following the rules, so I had no choice but to do this."

“You can do it another way.”

Du Junzhang was silent for a moment, then gave an irrelevant answer: "No one is innocent. No one living in this world is innocent. Turning a blind eye is not innocent, nor is not turning a blind eye."

“I disagree with you. In this whole affair, at least your wife and children are innocent. You have collected so much evidence that you could have gotten away unscathed, and your son wouldn’t have had to witness his father committing murder. Have you thought about what will happen to him? I heard he can no longer play.”

Du Junzhang gently turned the pages, flipping through the pages detailing his efforts over the past eighteen years, until he found a photograph of the book. The first page, a notebook with the words "Tan Zhen Jing" written on it, was enlarged, containing only two lines of text:

In the biting cold and the sweltering heat of July, beneath that blind red wall.

The second sheet shows the publication date on the back of the book, which is six months and eight days later than the date of Tan Zhenjing's death.

"Am I supposed to keep watching my child's empty coffin?" Du Jun's eyes cracked slightly, seeping out icy water. "I can't wait any longer. This is my only chance."

He looked up, and for the first time, his emotions were revealed: disgust.

"Just like how I'm eager for him to get married, even if it's to a stranger, it's better than to give him to someone who would imprison my son like the person who imprisoned my wife. Director Feng, Mrs. Chi, how could you understand my feelings?"

He Can leaned against the corridor wall, waiting for the door to the interrogation room on his right to open. Contrary to his uncontrollable rage, the person who emerged was calm and collected, unlike someone handling a case with him. He handed He Can his testimony along with the forensic report, summarizing the main points: "Du Junzhang believes that Luo Zangqi orchestrated the car accident and faked Tan Zhenjing's death to imprison people. His killing of Luo Zangqi was both revenge and to protect his son, Du Pianjian. The reason is that he saw the same bouquet of flowers in the lounge as years ago, and the forensic analysis showed that the petals contained Luo Zangqi's blood and trace amounts of pheromones. Yu Zou recalled that they had encountered an unidentified attack during their honeymoon in early April, which he suspected was also by Luo Zangqi."

He closed the document and handed it back, carefully straightened his police uniform, and buttoned up the cuffs that he hadn't held hands with in ages.

What are you going to do?

"Draw up the search warrant and search the house where the weapons are hidden."

"If we're looking for the place where Tan Zhenjing was imprisoned, I don't think it's in China."

He Can nodded and said, "I know, Pingqiu, I'm going to cause trouble."

Luo Zangqi's death was a sudden earthquake for the Luo family. While they were being shaken to the point of being mangled, others were not spared any suffering either. The entire manor was set up as a mourning hall. The huge French windows were covered by heavy curtains, with only a small gap revealing half a person's figure. A small white flower adorned a dark, tailored suit. Luo Zangrui stared unfocused at the black and white scenery. Behind him, four people were each giving their own version of events, all about how to escape. The police and his enemies would not let this opportunity pass. He felt only disgust and couldn't help but wonder how his elder brother had endured them.

After admiring the scenery for a while, Luo Zangrui straightened the small white flower on his collar, turned to them and said, "Alright, everyone, although our eldest brother is dead, it doesn't mean the Luo family has fallen. Avenging our eldest brother is the most important thing. We will live forever in spring, while they will not survive the winter."

"Revenge? You think you haven't been caught big enough by the police?" said the man on the left sofa.

"Does this mean that if we don't take revenge, none of you here will escape the death penalty?" Luo Zangrui replied.

“Brother Rui is right, things haven’t really gotten much done yet. Otherwise, would we still be here talking? Du Junzhang is a key figure in the police force now, we can’t touch him, but we can still try to take action against his son and son-in-law,” said the woman in the black dress on the right sofa.

The man on the left sofa scoffed, knowing she wouldn't let the couple off the hook. This woman preferred a threesome, enjoying the feeling of being loved by both her husband and wife at the same time.

“No.” A hoarse and aged voice came from the corner. The black clothes he wore looked like second-hand goods from an old shop, neither fitting nor appropriate. His deep-set eyes were framed by thick monocles, and his eye bags were black. He continued, “Tan Zhenjing’s glands have reached their limit and cannot be grafted again.”

“Du Pianjian is the next candidate,” Luo Zangrui murmured as if suddenly realizing something.