The June rain fell all night, washing the red brick walls of the old community.
Feng Yulan stood on the balcony, watching the rain meandering like a river on the window glass. She felt that the water marks were like the lines on the blood-stained shirt in Zhang Shuo's closet.
Three days had passed. Ever since Zhang Shuo hurriedly left that rainy night, there had been no news. He'd taken his ID, cash, and a few changes of clothes, but he'd left behind a house full of secrets and two women who knew all too well what was going on.
"What are you standing there for? Where's breakfast?"
Zhang Shumin's voice came from behind. Feng Yulan's shoulders trembled and the rag in her hand fell to the ground.
Ever since Zhang Shuo disappeared, my mother-in-law's temper has become more and more unpredictable. Sometimes she is as silent as a stone, and sometimes she is as irritable as a trapped beast.
"Do it right away." Feng Yulan bent down to pick up the rag, and her fingers felt a stinging pain when they touched the floor - the swollen knuckles from being hit with a rolling pin by her mother-in-law while washing clothes the day before yesterday had not healed yet.
In the kitchen, Feng Yulan mechanically washed the rice and put it into the pot. The sound of rain outside the window masked the sound of Zhang Shumin's footsteps in the living room, but she could feel her mother-in-law's eyes on her through the crack in the door.
Over the past three years, she has become familiar with this feeling of being watched like a thorn in the back, but today it is particularly suffocating.
As the rice porridge was bubbling in the pot, Feng Yulan heard her mother-in-law open Zhang Shuo's door.
This was the seventh time in three days that Zhang Shumin had checked her son's room, as if searching for some clue. Feng Yulan quietly turned down the fire, tiptoed to the kitchen door, and pricked up her ears.
The friction of the wardrobe door's sliding rails, the soft click of a drawer opening and closing, and then—"click"—the secret compartment. Feng Yulan's heartbeat quickened.
She also knew the secret compartment, located at the bottom of the wardrobe, which required a certain amount of force to open. She had checked it the day before yesterday while her mother-in-law was out buying groceries, and it was empty, with only a faint smell of chemicals.
"Bitch!"
The sudden curse and the sound of a heavy object falling scared Feng Yulan so much that she almost screamed.
She covered her mouth tightly and saw through the crack in the door that Zhang Shumin was standing at the door of Zhang Shuo's room, clutching a blue shirt in her hand - the same one she saw stained with blood that day.
It turned out that Zhang Shuo did not take it away, but hid it in a more secluded place.
"Mom...what's wrong?" Feng Yulan asked timidly, pretending to have just noticed the noise.
Zhang Shumin turned around abruptly, her eyes fierce and murderous: "Did you go through his things?"
"No, no..." Feng Yulan took a step back and rested her back against the cold refrigerator door.
"You're lying!" Zhang Shumin rushed over, the blood-stained shirt trembling like a flag in her hands. "This shirt was in the secret compartment, but now it's in the drawer!"
Feng Yulan's throat tightened. She had indeed turned the shirt over to check for bloodstains, but she had clearly put it back where it came from...unless her mother-in-law had discovered another secret compartment?
"I...I was just tidying up my clothes..." She defended herself quietly, her eyes fixed on the bloodstain that had turned brown on the collar of her shirt.
There was a missing button there - she had found it in the crack of the sofa, and there were tiny scratches on it, as if it had been scraped by a sharp object.
Zhang Shumin suddenly calmed down, a calmness that was even more disturbing after the outburst of rage. She slowly folded her shirt and said in a voice so low it was almost inaudible, "What do you know?"
This wasn't a question, it was an interrogation. Feng Yulan's fingertips dug into her palm, the pain keeping her awake.
Should she confess? Tell her mother-in-law that she saw Zhang Shuo dealing drugs? Or should she continue to play the role of the submissive daughter-in-law?
"I..." She had just opened her mouth when the doorbell rang suddenly.
They both froze. This was the first time anyone had visited since Zhang Shuo's disappearance.
Zhang Shumin quickly stuffed her shirt into her apron pocket and motioned for Feng Yulan to open the door. Through the peephole, Feng Yulan saw a man in a police uniform standing outside, rain dripping down the brim of his hat.
"It's the police..." she turned around and whispered, and saw her mother-in-law's face turned pale instantly.
Zhang Shumin took a deep breath and straightened her collar. "Go open the door, and don't talk nonsense."
Feng Yulan's fingers trembled uncontrollably as she opened the door. The policeman took off his wet hat, revealing a tired, middle-aged face. "Hello, is this Zhang Shuo's house?"
"Yes... yes." Feng Yulan's voice trembled. "I am his wife."
"I'm Officer Li from the Chengdong Branch." The officer showed his ID. "Can I come in and talk?"
In the living room, Officer Li sat on the edge of the sofa, his eyes scanning the simple furniture and the yellowed family portraits on the wall. When Feng Yulan brought tea, she noticed that his eyes lingered on Zhang Shuo's photo for a few seconds.
"Is Zhang Shuo at home recently?" Officer Li took the teacup and went straight to the point.
Feng Yulan and Zhang Shumin exchanged a glance. Her mother-in-law answered first: "He's on a business trip. He left three days ago."
"Where are you going on business?"
Zhang Shumin remained calm, "He was assigned out of town by his company and left in a hurry. He didn't tell me his specific address."
Officer Li pulled a notebook from his pocket and scribbled something: "Do you have his contact information? We need to get some information from him."
"What happened?" Feng Yulan couldn't help asking.
Officer Li hesitated for a moment and asked, "Do you know Jason Chen?"
The name shot through Feng Yulan's body like an electric current. Jason—the owner of the bloody tie, the name engraved on the Kiton tie box.
She subconsciously looked at her mother-in-law and found that Zhang Shumin's right hand was tightly clutching the shirt in the apron pocket.
"I don't know him," Zhang Shumin said firmly. "My son doesn't have many friends."
Officer Li nodded, but his eyes showed obvious disbelief.
He asked a few more questions, requested Zhang Shuo's phone number and company information, and left a business card before leaving: "If Zhang Shuo contacts you, please be sure to have him contact the police as soon as possible. This is very important."
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