Chapter 2 High School Years 1
Four years later, the first murder occurred.
On the morning of New Year's Day in the year 2000, a young man named Zheng Kun was walking down the street, feeling very down because the end of the century had not arrived as expected.
Just a few days ago, everyone was talking about this topic, no matter where they were. If you asked anyone what they were talking about, they would definitely answer you - of course, "the end of the world"!
French prophet Nostradamus predicted that December 31, 1999, would be the day of God's punishment on humanity. A catastrophe would strike, bringing the end of humanity. The sun, moon, and nine planets would form a "cross" in the sky. This astrological combination would bring unprecedented catastrophe to Earth. Consequently, numerous "preparatory" events took place around the world.
That’s great, Zheng Kun thought, now all the suffering in the world will come to an end.
But disappointingly, nothing happened on December 31st. No meteorites fell, no alien invasions occurred, no volcanoes erupted—Changbai Mountain, Mount Fuji, Mount Suez, Yellowstone National Park—yet the news broadcast went on as usual. Disappointed, he ate a cold, dry steamed bun with plain water, and, despite the noise of his neighbors' firecrackers, he retreated to bed early.
The next day, the first dawn of the new century arrived as promised. Hungry and cold, he woke before four o'clock. His bedding and clothes were as thin as paper, and he had no money in his pocket. He had no choice but to wander the streets, in temperatures exceeding ten degrees Celsius, looking for a meal.
As Zheng Kun grew older, his life became increasingly difficult. When he was broke, he could just steal at the train station to make ends meet. When all else failed, he'd even ask for pocket money from middle school students in the alleys. But as he got older, his treatment in the police station worsened. Not only were he offered a boxed lunch, but he couldn't even get a sip of water. No one treated him like a child anymore. If he wasn't careful, he could end up in jail, just like his scumbag father.
The sun hadn't risen yet, and the shutters of shops along the street were tightly shut. Only a breakfast shop had just opened, and the owner was steaming buns. Inside, the radio blared the news: City police had busted a criminal gang and apprehended most of its members. Unlike other organizations, most of its members were minors, but their methods were brutal. During the arrests, a police officer was killed. Four criminals, including the organizer, are currently at large. Citizens are urged to remain vigilant...
The news did not affect his mood. Sentimentality and sense of justice were Zheng Kun's weakest areas.
He looked around absentmindedly and happened to see a familiar video store. He couldn't help but lick his lips, which were cracked from the cold. "There is always a way out."
This music store was once Zheng Kun's target, but he failed because of a little girl. But now, he knows he doesn't need to show mercy anymore.
He skillfully pried open the lock of the rolling door and entered the store to search. He was disappointed to find only a few coins on the counter and he still couldn't open the high-end lock of the attic.
I might as well get some movies to watch back home, he thought. He touched the tip of his nose with his fingers. There was still a lingering chill from the outdoors.
Starting in the late 1990s, videotapes were gradually pushed to the brink of obsolescence. The new product was the VCD, which was said to offer better picture quality, more realistic sound, and a wider appeal. A glance at this store's shelves showed the difference: half the videotapes were gone, and the empty shelves were replaced with discs, thinly wrapped in paper.
But for Zheng Kun, the most important thing about movies is the content, not the storage medium. He went into the curtained back room. The adult films in the room hadn't been updated much; videotapes still dominated the market.
The video store mainly does business at night and opens late in the morning. He simply turns on the incandescent light and, like a real customer, carefully selects the movie he likes.
Only after trying it did I realize that it is actually quite boring for two grown men to huddle in a room and watch an adult movie together.
While the first tape was somewhat entertaining, the second and third discs were essentially repetitions of the first, with stilted dialogue and repetitive action. Aside from the actors, they looked like they were cast in the same mold. And worst of all—there was absolutely no erotic content. Zheng Kun began to regret choosing based solely on the cover.
"It's so boring. I should have gone to school earlier." Zhang Zhihao yawned and complained. It was hard to imagine that he was jumping up and down with excitement just an hour ago.
"It's useless to go. It's a wonder you can learn anything with that blocky brain of yours." Zheng Kun responded absentmindedly.
"But I have to show up in class! My homeroom teacher talked to my dad last week, and if I skip school again I'll have to repeat the grade."
"Then stay. Your family is rich anyway."
Unlike Zheng Kun, who was thrown into society early, Zhang Zhihao remained a student. Others considered him slow-witted, with poor grades, and unsuitable for academics. However, his parents refused to acknowledge this fact, spending a fortune on tutors and using connections to force him into a local high school.
What a waste of effort. If such a large sum of money had been invested in me, I would have been admitted to Tsinghua University or Peking University long ago, Zheng Kun often thought.
"Yeah, it's not the first time. I was held back in elementary school... Let's not talk about that anymore. Let's try something more exciting." Zhang Zhihao picked through a box of stolen videotapes and pulled out one with a cover of a woman with long hair covering her face. Zheng Kun had picked it up after misunderstanding the content. "I heard it's the hottest horror movie lately."
Zheng Kun tutted disdainfully, "Horror movies are just for scaring children. I got tired of them when I was in elementary school."
In fact, the newest appliance in his house was a radio his parents bought when they got married; he didn't even have a black-and-white TV. He had never seen a horror movie.
"Just try it for a while." Zhang Zhihao rarely ignored his opinion and stuffed the videotape called "The Ring" into the projector.
The film begins with a chilling soundtrack. The plot revolves around a videotaped recording of a powerful grudge. Anyone who views it will receive a phone call predicting their death in seven days. Four teenagers mysteriously die at the same time in different locations, their faces etched with terror...
The two bad boys were trembling with fear. Neither of them wanted to admit it, and they both tried hard to act as if nothing had happened.
"How about we open the curtains and let some fresh air in?" Zhang Zhihao suddenly said. Actually, he had drawn the curtains tightly half an hour ago to create a good atmosphere for watching a movie.
"Are you scared?" Zheng Kun couldn't help but teasing.
"Who's afraid? I just feel a little stuffy." Zhang Zhihao deliberately spoke loudly, but one could still hear the trembling in his voice.
As if to distract himself, Zhang Zhihao would utter a few irrelevant words whenever he encountered a terrifying scene. As the female ghost on the screen gradually climbed out of an ancient well, he talked about his own experience, "Oh, by the way, I saw your father this morning."
"Ah?!" Zheng Kun screamed on the spot, scaring Zhang Zhihao so much that he trembled all over and fell off the sofa to the ground.
"Don't be so startled!"
Zheng Kun ignored him and grabbed his collar, "Where did you meet him?"
"Who is it?"
"My damned dad!"
"Oh, you mean him. I met him on the way to school, and he asked if he had seen you. I said I had to go to school, but you stopped me before I even reached the school gate."
Zheng Kun gritted his teeth and squeezed out a sound, "Impossible! He still has two years left in his sentence."
At the age of thirteen, Zheng Kun began to live alone. That year, his father was imprisoned for intentional injury.
No one was surprised by this outcome. The man had never worked a single day in a job, never engaged in any legitimate livelihood. He was a master of every trick and trick. Rather, the most surprising thing was that he lived long enough to get married and have children before being arrested.
His mother never commented on her husband's imprisonment, nor did she visit him in prison. Six months later, she disappeared after leaving a short message. It was said that she had a man outside.
My father's relationship with his family wasn't good; I heard they'd severed ties a long time ago. But he couldn't just leave a child to die. An aunt from one of his relatives came over every other day, reluctantly. Neighbors also took turns taking care of him, doing laundry, shopping, and delivering meals. But he seemed to do most of it alone. He cooked simple meals, packed up for school, and after a few months, everyone got fed up and started gossiping about him. He wasn't one to hold back and lash out. So, he soon began to live the self-reliant life he has today.
But he didn't hate this kind of life. Instead, he felt very free.
That man was more of a tyrant than a father. He came home at erratic times, and if he didn't get a hot meal, he'd start a tirade for no apparent reason. He said his mother lacked feminine charm and that Zheng Kun was a lazy slacker who didn't do any work. He was also a frequent and often severe beating. One of his earlobes was torn off by that man when he was ten.
Compared to that time, life now is like heaven in every way except that we don’t have enough food to eat.
Zhang Zhihao tilted his head and thought for a moment, "Could your father have escaped from prison?"
"Wouldn't that have caused a stir in the city?"
"Yeah, maybe it's just someone who looks like him? Come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a long time. Middle-aged men with that look are actually quite common."
Zheng Kun calmed himself down and said, "I'm going back."
"Oh, so early?"
"I'm not in the mood to watch it." As he said this, he leaned over and threw the unpacked videotapes back into the carton.
Zhang Zhihao grabbed his hand and said shamelessly, "Leave the whole box here and let me have a look for two more days."
Zheng Kun's home is an old house in a remote area. It is bare and has no valuables. But due to professional habit, he always locks the door when he goes out.
So when he found that the door opened after only one turn of the key, he immediately realized that someone had been there.
"Really? You couldn't even choose a good place to steal." He opened the door, then realized his mistake.
The lights in the living room were on, and a middle-aged man was standing in the corridor.
"You're back?"
"I'm back." He answered subconsciously, feeling a surge of nostalgia. No one had asked him that question in a long time. But this nostalgia quickly turned into fear. He remembered who the man in front of him was.
"I wrote a lot of letters there, but never received a single reply."
"Maybe there's something wrong with the post office system. Those people who eat the emperor's salary just take the money but don't do anything." Zheng Kun lied. In fact, the letter only came every two or three months, and he threw it into the trash without even opening the envelope.
"Where's your mother?"
"She ran away with another man a long time ago."
As soon as he said that, he realized he was in big trouble. The man's face changed drastically, and he raised his palm as big as a palm fan. Zheng Kun immediately protected his face with both hands, an instinctive reaction that had been practiced for many years.
But the slap didn't hit him, but landed lightly on his head.
"Hey, I knew she wouldn't wait for me. Thank you for your hard work over the years."
Zheng Kun relaxed his guard incredibly. His father seemed a little embarrassed and turned his head away without looking at him.
"What are you standing there for? Come inside."
He followed his father into the living room and was stunned. There were three or four dishes on the table, and a pot of chicken soup, an unusually rich meal.
After lunch, Zheng Kun went to the shopping street again, but this time he didn't go to steal anything. His father gave him a small amount of money to buy some paper and pens for school.
Zheng Kun never thought that he would be able to go to school again one day.
My father seemed like a completely different person after he was released from prison. He searched everywhere for him. Unable to find him at home, he went to school, where he ran into his homeroom teacher and learned he had already dropped out.
"What a pity, that child is quite smart." The head teacher seemed to still remember him.
"It's my fault." The father was very sad.
"He's still so young. Even if he doesn't want to go to university, it would be good for him to learn a skill."
The enthusiastic class teacher gave Zheng Kun the contact information of a vocational school. So, while Zheng Kun was staying at Zhang Zhihao's house watching movies, his father had already helped him enroll in a cooking school.
"I see you've loved cooking since you were a child." Zheng Kun was stunned when his father announced the news during dinner.
Because his mother was so perfunctory at cooking, he did learn to cook simple dishes like boiled eggs early on to fill his stomach.
"That's settled. You don't have to worry about tuition and living expenses. I'll go out and find a job tomorrow." His father made up his mind without even asking him if he agreed.
Never mind, this feeling isn't so bad after all. Thinking of this, Zheng Kun felt his steps lighten, his back straighter. He had a premonition that something good was about to happen, and with a smile on his face, he walked into the stationery store.
As soon as I walked in, the enthusiastic stationery store owner greeted me and asked, "What do you want to buy?"
Yeah, what exactly do I need to buy? Pens and notebooks? He stared at the shelf filled with various ballpoint pens, feeling puzzled. But then he thought, do culinary school really need notes and homework? Maybe what he really needs are kitchen knives and iron spoons.
This stationery store is across from a breakfast shop, so naturally, it's quiet at this hour. The owner, who'd been busy steaming steamed buns since early morning, now has some free time to chat with a passing woman walking her dog.
"Have you heard that the music store next door was robbed?" the aunt said. Zheng Kun couldn't help but put down the pen he had just picked up and listened attentively.
"Oh? When did it happen?" asked the owner.
"It should have been last night. I heard that all the change in the cabinet was gone."
"Have you called the police?"
"No, I just lost a few dozen dollars. Even if I call the police, they won't take it seriously."
Zheng Kun nervously estimated in his mind the value of the money and discs he had stolen. As luck would have it, it was exactly the amount that the police would file a case and handle seriously.
The breakfast shop owner hummed thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, early this morning, just as the sky was getting light, I saw a suspicious-looking young man wandering around here. He even squatted in front of the music store for quite a while. I was busy preparing to open the store at the time and didn't have time to check. Now that I think about it, that kid is pretty suspicious."
"Then why don't you talk to the woman who owns the video store about this?"
"Why are you looking for trouble? Wait until they actually call the police."
Zheng Kun felt sweat dripping from his forehead. He stood in front of the shelf for a long time, not daring to look back. He opened a pencil case and used the small mirror on the back to observe the breakfast shop owner behind him. Only when someone was buying a bun did he slip out of the stationery store and run away.
Back home, Zheng Kun locked himself in his room, racking his brains for a solution to his current predicament. This couldn't go on like this. If he delayed for a few more days, the police would surely find a clue and arrest him. His hard-earned new life would be shattered. He had to act now.
He counted the change in his pocket and went back to Zhang Zhihao to get back the videotape he'd borrowed that morning. His plan was simple: quietly return the stolen items and dissuade the owner from calling the police. It sounded a bit foolish, but he couldn't think of anything better at the moment.
He returned to the scene of the theft, hiding in a small alley and observing the store from afar. It was already seven in the evening, dark, and the temperature near -10 degrees Celsius. Most shops were already closed, including the store, its shutters tightly shut. Only a barbecue restaurant remained open.
Having learned his lesson from the previous morning, Zheng Kun waited silently in the alley for a long time. The barbecue restaurant closed around eleven o'clock at night, and the street finally deserted. The silence was so serene that it made the hairs on his body stand on end. Only then did he take action, squatting in front of the music store, pulling out a piece of wire and beginning to pick the lock. This was a skill he was accustomed to, but this time, despite several attempts, he couldn't get it to work.
He heard a dog barking in the distance, and he looked around nervously. Fortunately, he didn't see anyone passing by.
It's okay, this is my last time picking a lock. I can't be so unlucky as to get caught this time. He consoled himself, trying to steady his trembling fingers and repeatedly adjusting the angle of the wire, but the pleasant "click" never came.
He was a little anxious, so he grabbed the rolling door and pulled it upwards, but he didn't expect the door to be pulled open directly. It turned out that it was not locked at all.
Zheng Kun wiped the sweat from his forehead. Was this considered good luck? The couple who owned the shop forgot to lock the door, and all his efforts were in vain.
He shook his head and decided not to think too much about it. The most important thing now was to quickly return all the videotapes to their original places. He opened a gap half a person's height, picked up the box of videotapes and crawled in.
Once inside, he immediately closed the shutters, looked up, and was stunned. A light shone through the curtains in the inner room, clearly a light on. Someone was still there—that was his first reaction, an instinctive urge to run. But his legs gave way, and he couldn't move. He could only stand there, clutching the box of videotapes.
After standing there for about two minutes, Zheng Kun calmed down somewhat. The room was very quiet, without a sound, so there must be no one else there. He just forgot to turn off the lights, he convinced himself, and barely regained feeling in his hands and feet.
He approached the inner room and peeked inside through the gap in the door curtain with trepidation, only to find that an even greater shock was waiting for him.
There was a large container overturned in the room, with a person lying under the container, not moving at all.
…
He stood there in shock. After a long while, he mustered up the courage to shout, but there was no response.
Most of the person's body was pinned beneath the container. He crouched down tremblingly and looked at the person's profile. It was a middle-aged woman, and he recognized her face: Xu Lan, the owner of this shop.
Her eyes were open, but with a hollow look. It was obvious that she was dead.
Zheng Kun collapsed to the ground, and it was unknown how long it took him to regain his composure. His first instinct was to call the police, but then he realized that wasn't an option. His current situation and identity were fraught with embarrassment. The thief who had stolen the videotape that morning had returned to the crime scene that evening. The police would likely develop a negative association, perhaps even believing he had murdered Xu Lan.
But why did she die here?
He forced himself to calm down and carefully observed the condition of the body.
The steel bar of the shelf struck Xu Lan's temples, likely the direct cause of her death. A pad of paper lay on the floor to her right. Zheng Kun picked it up through his sleeve, flipping through the contents and gasping. It was the store's videotape rental record, mostly written in black pen. However, some of the tapes had their names crossed out in red. These crossed-out tapes were the ones Zheng Kun had stolen that morning.
It turned out she had already discovered the videotapes had been stolen. Zheng Kun immediately understood why she would close the shutters and stay alone in the store at night. Most likely, she was counting the inventory to see how much had been lost.
Xu Lan wore a watch on her right hand, the glass of the dial having been shattered by the shelf. Zheng Kun leaned over, face to face, to glance at the watch's dial. The hour hand stopped at eight o'clock, motionless.
Eight o'clock, Zheng Kun thought back. He was watching the video store from the alley at the time, and he thought he heard something heavy fall. But the barbecue restaurant was still open, so he thought it was there. Now thinking about it, it must have been at that time that the shelf fell on Xu Lan.
He had been monitoring the video store since seven o'clock and hadn't noticed anyone entering or leaving. This meant Xu Lan had been alone in the store the entire time. The only explanation for her death was an accident—perhaps while inspecting the videotapes stored high up in the shelves, she stepped on the edge and accidentally knocked the shelf over, hitting a vital part and killing her instantly.
But the problem is that he is the only one who can prove all this.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
