Chapter 4: Infiltrating
1. It's Him
The smell of hospital disinfectant still seemed to linger stubbornly at the tip of his nose, but Qin Chuan's thoughts had been completely disrupted by Ouyang Lanlan's uncontrollable trembling words on the phone, like a huge rock thrown into a quiet lake.
He didn't even have time to wrap up the arm that had just been rubbed with iodine. He almost ran out of the hospital gate with his clothes on. Only when the cold wind blew did he feel a little chill.
He waved to stop a taxi, opened the door and got in. While telling Ouyang Lanlan the address of her company, his finger had already pressed her number again.
"Are you still there? Is it safe around here?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but his speech was a bit faster than usual, revealing his inner anxiety. The background noise on the other end of the line was a bit noisy, a mixture of steam from the coffee machine and whispers.
"I'm in the coffee shop downstairs from the company, sitting by the window." Ouyang Lanlan's voice was still tense, like an overstretched string. "There are a lot of people here, they should be safe." She repeated the word "safe" as if trying to convince herself.
"Okay, stay there and don't come out. I'll be there soon." Qin Chuan hung up the phone and said to the driver, "Master, please hurry up."
Ten minutes later, the taxi stopped at the office building. Qin Chuan walked quickly into the brightly lit coffee shop, which was filled with the aroma of coffee beans. He quickly glanced around and saw the curled figure in the corner.
Ouyang Lanlan held a cup of water that had long gone cold with water droplets condensed on the wall of the cup in her hands. She kept glancing out the window in panic, like a bird that was disturbed and unable to return to its nest. Any passing figure could make her tremble slightly.
Qin Chuan sat down on the sofa across from her, the soft leather sinking with a slight sound. He didn't bother with any extraneous pleasantries and got straight to the point: "What's the situation? Take your time, don't rush." He tried to sound calm and reliable, even though his own heartbeat was not slow.
Ouyang Lanlan took a deep breath, as if she needed to muster a tremendous amount of courage, and then began to narrate. She described it in exquisite detail, starting with the rider stopped by the roadside to look at his phone, then the strange, gurgling laughter that sounded like a leaking bellows and the scraping of metal, and then the sudden feeling of being plunged into an icy cellar, her blood freezing.
"His throat, there, there's no movement at all! Qin Chuan, you once told me in the ward, 'When you watch a comedy video and laugh happily, your Adam's apple usually trembles twice a second'... I remember! So I paid special attention! He just smiled like that, but his neck seemed stiff! That's not a real smile! His face and neck are stiff!" She looked at him eagerly, her eyes mixed with fear and an urgent desire to be believed, afraid that he would reveal a hint of doubt.
Qin Chuan's brows were tightly knitted together, forming a deep "Chuan" character. Reason and experience told him that relying on just a similar laugh, especially in a busy city, was too unlikely to be a valid clue.
A serial rapist who had been in hiding for four years was suddenly spotted by a former victim in another city? It sounded more like a plot point from a thriller. But looking at Ouyang Lanlan's eyes, wide with utter terror, they weren't filled with hallucinations or fantasies, but rather the sharp, piercing cry of unforgettable traumatic memories. This instinctive intuition, born from the victim's instinct, was sometimes more alarming than logical reasoning. He couldn't ignore it.
"I know this sounds ridiculous and unbelievable." Seeing that he remained silent, Ouyang Lanlan became even more anxious. Her fingers unconsciously exerted force, almost shattering the cold glass. Her voice was filled with a hint of desperate tears. "But I really didn't hear it wrong! That laugh was so special, I will never forget it! Qin Chuan, please believe me this once!"
These words were like a fine needle, gently piercing Qin Chuan's heart. He looked at her and finally spoke slowly, his voice steady. "It's not that I don't trust you. Your feelings are important. It's just that we need something more tangible to confirm. It's hard to pinpoint a specific target based on laughter alone. Do you remember what he looks like? What platform is the jockey suit from? What color is the bike? Any special features? Even a little detail would be great." He guided her, hoping to dig out more information.
Ouyang Lanlan tried hard to close her eyes and recall, her brows furrowed in pain, but she finally shook her head in frustration, her shoulders slumping: "It was so sudden, and I was scared again. My mind was blank. I only remember that she was wearing blue clothes, and riding on a very common electric car. The look... was very ordinary, nothing special. It was the kind of face that would be instantly lost in a crowd." The harder she tried to think, the more she could not grasp the vague impression. This feeling of powerlessness almost made her collapse, and tears welled up in her eyes.
Qin Chuan was silent for a moment, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table. He knew exactly what it meant if Ouyang Lanlan's feelings were true. It meant that the ghost had never left, perhaps even lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting. It meant that the nightmare of four years ago hadn't ended, merely relocated to the warm and humid southern stage, quietly continuing its icy plot. It was better to believe it than not. Especially when it came to her safety.
He made a decision. He pulled out his old phone, rummaged through the address book, and found a number marked "Wang Yang (Longdu City Bureau)." His thumb hovered over the dial button for a moment before finally pressing it. The phone rang a few times before being picked up. A cheerful voice, with a hint of familiar teasing, came from the other end. There was a bit of noise in the background, as if it was from an office: "Hello? Who is this distinguished guest? Oh! Isn't this Boss Qin, the entrepreneur from Linzhou? Is that you, kid? Did you make a fortune setting up a stall in Linzhou? Did you remember to call your old comrades?" The voice carried the unique boldness of the north.
Hearing this familiar voice, Qin Chuan's tense face unconsciously revealed a genuine smile, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced by a solemn expression: "Wang Yang, it's me. Shao Pin. How about calling me Captain Wang now?" He tried to make his tone a little lighter.
"Deputy, deputy! You're no match for your boss Qin back then!" Wang Yang laughed heartily on the other end. "How's it going? Are you used to the rice in the south? I heard you went from being an entrepreneur to a security guard? What's your idea? Are southern girls too gentle and have made us weak? Why don't you come back? The brothers all miss you, especially your stewed chicken with mushrooms. It's so tempting! The food the old man in the cafeteria makes can't compare to yours!"
"Okay, stop talking nonsense." Qin Chuan interrupted his joke and said in a serious tone, "I want to ask you something serious."
Hearing Qin Chuan's tone, Wang Yang stopped joking, and the background noise seemed to quiet down a bit. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you being bullied? Tell me, buddy. Although I can't really lead the team south, I can still shake people and think of a solution for you!"
"It's not my business." Qin Chuan paused, lowered his voice, and unconsciously leaned forward slightly, as if this would bring him closer to the receiver. "It's about the '12.4' case."
There was an instant silence on the other end of the phone. After a few seconds, Wang Yang's voice became serious and low, with a barely perceptible tension: "That case? What's wrong? Any clues?" The failure four years ago was a thorn in the hearts of all participants. Whenever it was mentioned, the air would become heavy.
Qin Chuan glanced at Ouyang Lanlan, who was staring at him nervously with her lips slightly pale, and concisely recounted the story of Ouyang Lanlan hearing laughter and suspecting a food delivery rider. He omitted the details of her PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) and only emphasized her unusually certain intuition and description of the laughter.
Wang Yang's silence extended even longer, his soft breathing the only sound in the receiver. "Old Qin," he said, his voice cautious and a little embarrassed, "you know, just based on this, a similar laugh, so far away, and four years later, people can change. It's hard to use this as evidence." He was speaking the truth, the rational perspective of the police.
"I know this is difficult." Qin Chuan's voice was very persistent, "But I need you to help me check someone. Help me check the information of this rider. Now I only know that he is a rider in blue work clothes. He should be an employee of "Baolema" and delivers food in this area. I will go back and adjust the surveillance, and then check the phone numbers of the riders who delivered food in our office building today, and go to the rider station to check the employee information. It should not be difficult to check it in the system then." He narrowed the scope and made the direction clearer.
"Your cross-provincial search... well, that's alright." Wang Yang muttered, clearly starting to take it seriously. The sound of keyboard tapping could be heard from the other end of the line. "I'll give it a try. I'll compare the information from that year after I find out. The investigation files from that year should still be in the database. I'll go back and look into it and talk to Lao Zhao and the others about it. But time has passed, and a lot of the information may have changed. We can only see if there's anything suspicious first."
"Thank you." Qin Chuan knew that this was not in accordance with the procedure. Wang Yang was helping him based on their old friendship and trust.
"What are you thanking me for? I'll call you when I have news." Wang Yang paused, trying to sound a little more relaxed. "Hey, seriously, when did you pass on your secret recipe for chicken stewed with mushrooms to me? You really got me ravenous! You can't just keep me in suspense!"
Qin Chuan gave a wry smile, his smile tinged with fatigue: "Even if the secret recipe is passed on, will you still remember me? I have to make you think you can't eat it, so that you will remember me, Qin Chuan. If you want to eat it, wait for me to come back."
"Get out! You are such an ungrateful guy! Okay, wait for my news!" Wang Yang hung up the phone with a curse.
The wait was anxious and long. Ouyang Lanlan asked for leave from work and stayed home for a few days to rest and wait for news. Qin Chuan returned to his small but exceptionally clean rental apartment in the old city.
The room contained almost no personal belongings, only the necessary furniture. The walls were bare, revealing a sense of temporary desolation. Sometimes, Ouyang Lanlan would come over to ask for news, and the two of them would sit in silence, the air filled with anxiety and anticipation, and time seemed to stretch out.
Qin Chuan picked up his cell phone from time to time to look at it, then put it down again; Ouyang Lanlan sat on the only chair, clasped her hands together, and dug her nails into the back of her hands.
A few days later, one evening, as the sky darkened, the sound of a neighbor cooking and the smell of cooking oil drifted in from the window. Qin Chuan's phone finally rang, and the name "Wang Yang" popped up on the screen.
Qin Chuan picked up the phone immediately and subconsciously pressed the hands-free button, as if this would allow Ouyang Lanlan to feel it immediately. Ouyang Lanlan suddenly stood up from the chair, holding her breath nervously, her heart beating in her throat.
"Lao Qin," Wang Yang's voice sounded a little strange. Without the usual playful laughter, it was filled with the tension and suppressed excitement of discovering a major clue. "The rider you asked me to investigate is called Huang Qiang. Coincidentally, he is from Longdu."
Wang Yang paused, and Ouyang Lanlan felt as if her idea was confirmed, and thought that this was a major discovery. However, Qin Chuan, who was familiar with the police's approach to handling cases, realized at this time that Wang Yang's discovery was far more than that.
Sure enough, Wang Yang continued, "And I carefully went through the list of gas workers from that year. I actually found something. There's a name..."
"Speak." Qin Chuan's heart was lifted and his voice lowered involuntarily.
"There really was a man named 'Huang Qiang'. He registered as 25 years old at the time and lived in the old residential area of the pharmaceutical factory. When he was investigated that year, he provided an alibi. His parents and several old neighbors testified that he had been at home during that period and had never gone out. So after a thorough investigation, he was ruled out." As Wang Yang spoke, the rustling of papers could be heard.
"Huang Qiang!" Qin Chuan repeated the name, feeling his heart leap as if struck by a heavy hammer. Ouyang Lanlan also suddenly covered her mouth, her eyes wide open, filled with incredible shock and fear.
"Also," Wang Yang continued, his voice growing more serious as he dropped the bombshell. "I was keeping an eye on him and checked his recent situation. I found out he left Longdu about four years ago and got a temporary residence permit in Linzhou, so he must have been in Linzhou the entire time." Wang Yang spoke faster. "But I looked through his household registration. Back then, the information wasn't online yet, so a lot of information is missing. More detailed information about his upbringing and so on isn't available at the moment."
This news exploded like a bomb in the small rental house! The fragmented clues were instantly connected!
Longdu! Gas worker! Came to Linzhou four years ago!
All these fragments of information, coincidences in time, occupation, etc., match perfectly with the vague memory of the 12.4 serial rape case, the murderer's familiarity with the smell of gas (ethyl mercaptan), and the dislocated feeling of that weird and vague laughter!
The clues became extremely clear and strong! This Huang Qiang was a serious suspicion that could not be cleared!
"I understand, thank you, Wang Yang! I owe you a big meal, with plenty of chicken stewed with mushrooms!" Qin Chuan's voice was a little hoarse due to excitement and anger, and his fists clenched unconsciously.
"Stop it! Hurry up and inform me immediately if there is any progress! Because it is only a major suspicion now, but we don't have any substantial evidence, so it is not convenient for us to take action. But don't worry, if you need any support or how you need cooperation from us, just tell me! This bastard!" Wang Yang yelled on the other end, his tone full of indignation and determination to pursue the case.
After hanging up the phone, the room fell into a dead silence, with only the faint sound of a car engine outside the window. Qin Chuan and Ouyang Lanlan exchanged glances, each seeing a huge shock and a cold fear of being confirmed in the other's eyes, which then transformed into a sharp, hunting light.
"I have to find a way to get close to him!" Qin Chuan said, "This is all too coincidental!"
Ouyang Lanlan's eyes were filled with a complex mix of hope, fear, and confusion. "Do you believe what I said?"
Qin Chuan nodded slightly and said, "But we don't have direct evidence. All we can say is that he is a major suspect. I need to find some evidence!"
No one would have thought of how Qin Chuan would approach Huang Qiang.
2. Observe in secret
On the streets of Linzhou, the flow of electric bikes is a pulse even more turbulent than that of cars, especially during the afternoon and evening rush hours. Like worker ants, the blue and yellow riders weave through the buildings and alleys, delivering the nutrients that keep the modern city running. Qinchuan has now become just one drop in this torrent.
The decision to infiltrate Huang Qiang's food delivery station was not made on impulse. It was the most direct and least suspicious way to approach the target and observe his life trajectory and behavior patterns.
As he expected, this industry has a high turnover rate and a low entry threshold: only an electric bike, a health certificate, and an ID card are required. His weathered, angular face and the settled gaze in his eyes make him look more like a middle-aged man forced to move from place to place to make a living than a former criminal police officer.
The stationmaster asked a few simple questions, looked at his electric bike, and then waved his hand to let him follow the old rider for half a day to familiarize himself with the route.
The new "job" wasn't easy. Getting reacquainted with the city's streets, memorizing those awkward neighborhood names and easily misplaced buildings, coping with navigational woes, and completing every delivery within the allotted time tested my physical, mental, and patience.
During the first few days, Qin Chuan was so busy that he couldn't even get off the bike. His muscles ached from maintaining a long riding posture, and his hair, soaked with sweat, stuck to his forehead beneath his helmet. He deliberately chose the same shift as Huang Qiang and, through seemingly unintentional route selection, tried to be around Huang Qiang as much as possible.
After a few days of observation, Huang Qiang's image gradually became clearer, yet also more blurred. This was a man who practically lived in a vacuum.
In the bustling waiting area for riders, filled with profanity, cigarette smoke, and the blaring sound of games playing on mobile phones, Huang Qiang is always alone, huddled in an inconspicuous corner. He doesn't engage in discussions about unfair dispatching, difficult customers, or the prettiest girls in the neighborhood, nor does he complain about the station manager's occasional suppression. He simply scrolls silently on his phone, the screen's light reflected on his plain face, his eyes empty and emotionless. When he hears the order notification chime, he immediately stands up and puts on his helmet, his movements as precise as a clockwork machine, never dragging his feet.
Qin Chuan tried to strike up a conversation several times, offering a cigarette and asking, "Hey, is this order far?" or "I heard Jiangnanli is hard to get into?" Huang Qiang's reactions were bland, usually a shake of the head or a brief, "Not bad," "Yeah," his gaze barely lingering on Qin Chuan's face for even a second before flicking the switch and scurrying away. His vigilance was like an invisible barrier, keeping everyone at bay.
But what he didn't know was that Huang Qiang was actually observing him silently -
This new guy from Northeast China was, uh, a little too enthusiastic. Huang Qiang glanced at Qin Chuan's hand as he handed him the cigarette. His knuckles were thick and covered with old scars. It didn't look like a hand that had been doing rough work for a long time. It looked like it had been holding something.
He suppressed the slightest feeling of unease. Over the years, he'd grown accustomed to being ignored, and had learned to ignore everyone. Getting close meant trouble, while communication could expose flaws. He didn't need friends, only shadows. He retreated into his shell, blocking out all external noise and temptations, focusing on the orders bouncing on his phone screen and the voice in his head that only he could hear.
Qin Chuan felt a pang of difficulty. Huang Qiang was like a stone whose edges had been smoothed by running water; smooth, cold, and difficult to approach. Simply observing from the outside wouldn't get to the core. He needed an opportunity, a chance to break this ice.
3. The suspender pajamas controversy
The turning point came suddenly, even a little absurd.
It was a sweltering afternoon. Huang Qiang received an order for a luxury apartment. Customer's note: Just leave it by the door.
After Huang Qiang delivered the food, he did not hang the takeaway bag carefully on the door handle or put it directly on the ground like most riders, take a photo according to the procedure, and then immediately turn around and leave. Instead, he knocked on the door, took a step back, and stood quietly in front of the door with the takeaway bag, as if waiting for something.
A few minutes passed and there was no movement from inside the door.
Qin Chuan had just finished delivering an order to the building next door and was coming out of the elevator when he saw this scene. Feeling strange, he slowed down his pace, pretending to check the order on his phone and observing out of the corner of his eye.
Just then, the door clicked open from the inside. A young woman in a silk nightgown with suspenders leaned out. She had clearly just woken up or was about to rest. The strap of her nightgown had slipped to one side, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin. Seeing Huang Qiang standing in the doorway, she was stunned for a moment, then her face quickly filled with fear and anger.
"What are you doing standing here?!" The woman's voice suddenly rose in a sharp rebuke, "You pervert! Staring at my door! What do you want to do?!" She subconsciously covered her chest with her hands, her eyes filled with fear of being offended.
Huang Qiang seemed to be caught off guard by the other party's sudden opening of the door, and was also stunned by the sudden accusation. He moved his lips, wanting to explain something: "I'll wait for you to pick up the food." His voice was dry and muffled, and it seemed even more suspicious when heard through the mask.
"Just put it at the door! Who asked you to wait?! Didn't you want to read the note? And you were still standing here! Are you trying to peek?! I'm going to complain about you! How can you be like this? You're crazy!" The woman became more and more agitated and her words were fierce. She picked up her phone to take a photo and complain.
Huang Qiang froze in place. Facing the torrent of accusations, he seemed clumsy and at a loss. He just kept repeating, "According to the regulations, it needs to be confirmed." But his explanation pales in the face of the woman's anger.
Qin Chuan frowned. He could see that Huang Qiang's behavior was not so much vulgar as it was a kind of almost rigid, paranoid adherence to some self-imposed "rules." However, to ordinary people, especially single women, this behavior was undoubtedly extremely frightening and offensive.
The story didn't end there. Just after noon the next day, during a brief lull after the busy lunch rush at the takeaway station, the riders sat or squatted by the doorway, resting and smoking. Then, a slightly overweight man in a polo shirt stormed in, followed by the same female customer from the previous day.
"Who was the delivery man who delivered food to Unit 3, Building 1, Yaduo Apartments yesterday?!" The man spoke in a loud voice with a stern look on his face.
Everyone looked at him with some confusion, but knowing that the newcomer had bad intentions, no one responded. At this moment, a sharp-eyed woman happened to see Huang Qiang in the corner and pointed at him, "It's him!"
The man immediately strode over and grabbed Huang Qiang by the collar: "It's you, the fuck! You want to scare my wife? You're standing at the door and peeking, right? You stinky hooligan!" As he said that, he raised his fist to hit her.
The surroundings instantly fell silent. Some riders showed expressions of watching the fun, while others subconsciously took a step back. No one wanted to cause trouble. Huang Qiang was grabbed by the collar, his body tense, and a sinister look flashed in his eyes, but he remained silent, without resistance or excuse.
At this moment, Qin Chuan took a quick step forward. Instead of directly blocking the attack, he cleverly inserted his body between the two men, blocking the fists that were about to swing. A slightly flattering and helpless smile appeared on his face: "Brother! Big brother! Calm down, calm down! Don't do anything! It's not worth it to fight for such a thing, it's really not worth it!"
The man was blocked by him and became even more angry: "Who are you? Get out of here! I have to teach this pervert a lesson today!"
"Brother, I'm his colleague." Qin Chuan still stood in the middle, his tone sincere, but suddenly changed the subject. He seemed to be trying to stop the fight, but in fact he directed the attack to the rules. "Don't bother with him! He's very stubborn and stubborn! The company does have regulations. If valuables or food are left at the door, it's best to confirm that the customer has taken them away in time to avoid disputes if they are lost. He was also afraid that he would have to pay for the lost food, and as a poor worker, he couldn't afford it! Maybe he didn't handle it well and stood too close, causing my sister-in-law to misunderstand and scare her. I'm really sorry!"
His words not only pointed out the possible "basis" for Huang Qiang's behavior, although it was far-fetched, but also positioned Huang Qiang as a "stupid" rather than "evil" person, and at the same time gave the other party a way out.
The man's grip on his collar loosened slightly upon hearing this, but his anger remained. "You can't scare people! My wife didn't sleep well all night!"
"Yes, yes, he's definitely wrong! Our stationmaster will definitely criticize him severely and fine him later!" Qin Chuan nodded repeatedly and gently pried the man's hand away from Huang Qiang's collar. "Brother, you look like a reasonable person. If you fight with someone like him, not only will your hands get dirty, but if he calls the police, you'll be in trouble too, right? It's not worth it for such an idiot!"
The stationmaster also rushed over upon hearing the news and quickly tried to smooth things over, apologizing and promising to take care of it. The man's anger was largely extinguished by Qin Chuan's repeated attacks, and seeing the stationmaster's sincere attitude, he finally left with his wife, cursing profusely.
The storm subsided. The stationmaster glared at Huang Qiang and said unhappily, "You're always causing trouble!" But he didn't say anything more, tacitly approving Qin Chuan's approach.
The crowd dispersed. Huang Qiang straightened his wrinkled collar and glanced up at Qin Chuan. His eyes remained cold, but the pure, icy indifference seemed to have melted a little, revealing a fleeting, elusive, complex emotion—not gratitude, but more like a bewildered inquiry. He couldn't seem to understand why someone would be willing to step up and save a "weirdo" like him. He said nothing, lowered his head, and returned to silence.
But Qin Chuan knew that a tiny crack had finally been knocked open in the ice.
4. Rainy night sales boom
The weather in the south can change quickly. An unexpected downpour hit Linzhou, coming with swift force and intensity. Bean-sized raindrops clattered against my helmet, blurring my vision and filling the streets with water.
This kind of weather is a nightmare for food delivery drivers, and it's also the time when orders are overwhelming. System notifications are ringing one after another, and the unit price will rise, but the difficulty of delivery increases exponentially.
The webmaster kept sending voice messages in the group, urging everyone to speed up. At the same time, he unceremoniously assigned several "bad orders" with remote addresses, complicated road conditions, and which were obviously prone to overtime and loss of money to Huang Qiang, who was usually the most silent.
Huang Qiang looked at the orders on his mobile phone screen that were almost distributed diagonally across the city, silently put on his raincoat and prepared to set off.
Qin Chuan had just finished a delivery and was returning to a nearby station to recharge when he saw this scene. He immediately checked his orders, quickly planned a route, and then proactively sent a voice message to Huang Qiang through the work group chat: "Qiangzi, do you have any orders going to the Chengxi Development Zone? I just finished a delivery here and I'm on my way, so I'll give you a ride on the two farthest ones. It's too tiring to make a full trip in this weather."
There was silence in the channel for a few seconds before Huang Qiang said a very short "Hmm".
Qin Chuan quickly took on the two most challenging orders. He rode his scooter cautiously in the torrential downpour, the cold, sticky water pouring through the cracks in his raincoat. By the time he finished delivering those two orders and met up with Huang Qiang at the entrance to the residential complex for the final order, both were soaking wet and in a state of disarray.
The rain had eased slightly, but it was still drizzling. They pushed the car under a shed that barely provided shelter, took off their helmets, and shook the water off their heads.
There was a brief silence, with only the sound of rain hitting the roof and the faint sound of traffic in the distance.
Qin Chuan fished out two wrinkled cigarettes from his soaked cigarette case and handed one to Huang Qiang. Huang Qiang hesitated, then reached out to take it. Qin Chuan lit it for him, then lit his own.
In the dim light, two cigarette butts flickered.
"This awful weather! It's even worse than the winter back home in Northeast China." Qin Chuan exhaled a puff of smoke, as if talking to himself, but also as if beginning a conversation. "Winter is freezing but dry. The rain in the south is sticky and chills me to the bone."
Huang Qiang took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke blurring his expressionless face. He gave a very soft "hmm" as a response.
"It's not easy working in this industry." Qin Chuan continued to complain in his Northeastern accent, trying to close the distance. "You run into all kinds of people. You have to go through wind and rain."
"It's all the same." Huang Qiang finally spoke a word other than "hmm", his voice still low and hoarse, without any ups and downs.
But this was unprecedented progress. Their shared exhaustion, their shared embarrassment, their shared "low-class" status, and that vague connection to being "fellow Northeasterners" were like a faint flame, slightly melting the ice between them. Although their communication was limited to this, the tense, completely repulsive atmosphere had noticeably eased.
5. Eat noodles
A few days later, Qin Chuan and Ouyang Lanlan met at an old Linzhou noodle shop on a street corner. The noodle shop was small, but business was booming, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of lard, soy sauce, and chopped green onions.
Ouyang Lanlan arrived first and found a corner seat against the wall. She looked at the handwritten menu on the wall: Pian'erchuan, Shrimp and Eel Noodles, Pork Rib Noodles, and Fried Fish Noodles… She ordered the signature Pian'erchuan, and added a piece of braised pork ribs and a piece of smoked fish (fried fish).
Qin Chuan came in, dusty and sitting across from her. "A bowl of Sichuan pork liver with a poached egg," he told the waiter before looking at Ouyang Lanlan.
"How is it? Is everything going well?" Ouyang Lanlan lowered her voice, her eyes showing concern and a hint of barely perceptible nervousness.
"It's okay, I've gotten in touch with him." Qin Chuan nodded, his voice also low, "He's not so averse to me now, at least he can say a word or two. This guy is very solitary, has almost no friends, and goes home after get off work, so it's hard to find out more. But as long as you can get close to him, there's a chance." He briefly talked about the suspender pajamas incident and the delivery of the order on a rainy night, omitting the risks involved.
At this point, two bowls of noodles arrived. Ouyang Lanlan's bowl of Pianerchuan noodles was generously topped with pickled mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and sliced meat, and the broth was rich and juicy. Qinchuan's Banchuan noodles were glistening with oil, the pork liver was tender, and the wok-fried pork was fragrant. The side dishes included a generous portion of pork ribs, and the stir-fried fish was perfectly salty and sweet.
"Linzhou's noodles are different from ours in the north," Ouyang Lanlan said softly, stirring the noodles with chopsticks. "They focus on the toppings, not the noodles themselves. Most of them use machine-pressed noodles, and some even just make the noodles and toss the fried toppings on top and call it 'Banchuan'. It's not like our hand-rolled noodles where we focus on the chewiness."
"Hmm, let's eat something fresh and salty." Qin Chuan took a big mouthful of noodles. He seemed hungry. "How are you doing over there? Are you okay?"
Ouyang Lanlan put down her chopsticks and frowned slightly: "Work is okay, but I always feel uneasy. Recently, I always feel like someone is following me. On the way home from get off work, or at home at night, I always feel hairy on my back, and I can't see anything when I look back. Maybe I'm too nervous." She smiled self-deprecatingly, but the smile was a little forced.
"Don't scare yourself." Qin Chuan put down his chopsticks and looked at her seriously. "I basically kept an eye on him during the day, and he didn't show any unusual behavior. Try not to go to remote places alone. Go home early at night and lock the doors and windows." His tone was reassuring and firm.
6. Forcing people to drink
It was another late night. As the night deepened, the air in Linzhou became fresher after the rain, but still a little chilly.
Huang Qiang rode his electric scooter, his helmet visor pulled down, obscuring most of his face. He blended into the night traffic, driving steadily toward a residential complex, his purpose clear. He stopped at the foot of a building, checked his phone, picked up a takeout order, and walked into his apartment. His movements were calm and efficient, indistinguishable from the silence of the day, as if it were just another ordinary delivery in countless nights.
Almost immediately, Ouyang Lanlan dragged herself wearily back to her apartment. The sluggishness from overtime work, coupled with days of restlessness, had made her senses unusually sensitive. The streetlights stretched her shadow, sometimes long, sometimes short. All around was silence, with only the sound of her own footsteps echoing.
As she walked, that familiar, uneasy feeling crept back. She turned sharply—there was no one behind her, only the shadows of trees swaying in the wind, as if hiding countless pairs of eyes. Her heartbeat quickened, and she quickened her pace, practically jogging to the entrance of her apartment. She waited until the elevator doors closed, then leaned against the wall, catching her breath.
Returning home, Ouyang Lanlan locked the door, leaned against it, and let out a long sigh. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She kicked off her high heels and took off her tight work jacket, casually hanging it on the coat rack in the hallway. The room was dimly lit, with only a few warm yellow ambient lights on.
She rubbed her aching neck and headed for the bathroom, intending to wash away her fatigue and tension with hot water. The steam in the bathroom was thick, and the warm water temporarily soothed her tense nerves. However, as she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wiping her damp hair with it, her hazy vision suddenly caught sight of a vague human figure standing silently in the shadows by the bedroom window!
"Ah——!" A short scream was stuck in her throat. Ouyang Lanlan was frightened to death. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest. She staggered back suddenly, and her back was instantly covered with cold sweat.
With trembling hands, she suddenly turned on the bedroom light!
The glaring light instantly dispelled the shadows. Where was that person? It was clearly the suit jacket and skirt she had casually hung up when she entered the room! The outline of the coat rack in the dim light was distorted by her overly nervous nerves into a terrifying image.
It was a false alarm. After the immense fear came a weakness like exhaustion. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, laughing at her own paranoia, but unable to completely dispel the chill in her heart.
She walked over to the bed and sat down, her eyes fixed on the book "It's Okay Not to Forgive" on the nightstand. The pages were open, lingering on a passage she'd read repeatedly, underlined with a pen. She gently traced the words with her fingers, drawing strength from them, and whispered to herself, "When you have a flashback, tell yourself: This is the fear of the past, not the reality of the present!"
The voice was soft, yet it felt like she was performing a difficult ritual of self-redemption. The fears of the past, like ghosts, always found a way to sneak into the present and distort her perception. She needed to constantly and repeatedly reaffirm reality to barely maintain her composure.
——
Meanwhile, Qin Chuan, pushing his electric scooter, struggled to identify building numbers in a chaotically laid-out old residential complex built in the late 1990s. The building's exterior walls were creaky, wires tangled like a spiderweb, and the voice-activated lights were mostly malfunctioning, creating an unsettlingly dim environment.
The address of the order in my hand was written vaguely, with only "upstairs of the convenience store near Building 3" written on it. This description is like looking for a needle in a haystack in an old residential area with dozens of buildings and divided into "courtyards" and "districts".
He was looking around anxiously, trying to find a resident who had returned late to ask for directions, when a headlight shone from behind him, illuminating the bumpy road ahead. A blue electric car of the same model slid silently to a stop beside him.
It was Huang Qiang. He had just delivered a takeaway order in this old neighborhood. His helmet visor was lifted up, revealing his expressionless face. His eyes seemed even deeper and more unfathomable in the dim light.
"Can't find it?" Huang Qiang's voice was dry and flat, as if he was asking casually.
Qin Chuan's heart tightened, but his face immediately showed the slightly exaggerated helplessness and complaints that are unique to people from the Northeast. "It's not good! This shabby residential complex is built like a fucking maze! Building 3? I've already gone all the way to Building 8! There's no obvious sign, and I can't get through to the owner's phone. I'm really impressed!" He slammed the phone in his hand, as if annoyed by its poor performance. "This monocular is about to time out. I'll be fined for making a wasted trip!"
Huang Qiang listened silently, his eyes sweeping over the takeout bag hanging on Qin Chuan's handlebars, which was no longer too hot. He then looked up at the intricate network of buildings around him and pointed in a direction: "Over there, the one with red brick walls and the most rusty window guardrails. Turn around and it's the third unit entrance. He usually orders it at home, and he doesn't like to leave it at the door. You have to knock."
His instructions were extremely clear and accurate, as if he knew every brick here by heart.
"Oh! Thank you so much, Qiangzi! You saved me!" Qin Chuan immediately showed a grateful expression and thanked him repeatedly, "This damn place, without your guidance, I would have had a hard time finding it before dawn!"
Huang Qiang didn't respond, but just nodded slightly and prepared to turn on the power button to leave.
"Hey, Qiangzi!" Qin Chuan seemed to suddenly remember something and called him, "You just finished delivering? How are the orders today? I'm almost running my legs off."
Huang Qiang paused and glanced at him sideways: "Not bad."
"More than okay, I think you're almost a king of running orders!" Qin Chuan took a step closer and handed her a cigarette, saying in a familiar tone, "This kind of job is really not for humans. You don't make much money, but you're so frustrated. Especially in this old, run-down place with no elevator, you have to climb up and down, and the owners are so troublesome."
Huang Qiang hesitated for a moment, then took the cigarette and lit it with the help of Qin Chuan. He took a puff, the smoke blurring his expression for a moment. "It's always like this," he said calmly, exhaling a puff of smoke.
"Damn it, I need to find a chance to relax. I'm exhausted." Qin Chuan lit one himself, took a deep drag, and casually suggested, "Hey, how about we finish work later and get some food? I know the delicatessen at the intersection has really good braised beef. How about some beer to help me feel better? I'll treat you! Thanks to you today, otherwise I'd have to face another complaint."
He watched Huang Qiang's reaction intently. Making this invitation was incredibly risky, but it also offered a perfect opportunity to break the ice and get a close look at his partner's living environment. He needed a drunken, heart-to-heart conversation, perhaps leading to some "drunken truths." He also needed to search for any clues.
Huang Qiang paused for a moment, his fingers holding the cigarette in his hand. Behind the smoke, his eyes seemed to scrutinize Qin Chuan. The air froze for a few seconds, and just when Qin Chuan thought he would reject him coldly as usual, he nodded very lightly.
"OK."
The voice was still calm, but this answer made Qin Chuan's heart skip a beat.
Half an hour later, the two men returned to Huang Qiang's rental, one in front of the other. Just as Qin Chuan had observed, it was located in a crowded, chaotic urban village. The gaps between buildings were so narrow that only one person could pass through. Electrical wires drooped, and laundry hung out to dry fluttered like flags of various nations. But upon entering Huang Qiang's four-story farmhouse and opening the rusty security door, Qin Chuan was horrified by the scene inside.
Despite the clamor and chaos outside, the house was remarkably tidy, almost dead silent. An old fabric sofa, washed to a pale white, was meticulously arranged. The cement floor was mopped so clean it practically reflected light. The air was thick with a faint scent, like a mixture of disinfectant and some cheap air freshener, trying to mask something, but only making it seem even more unnatural.
What Qin Chuan was most concerned about was the layout. This was clearly a two-bedroom apartment. Huang Qiang's own room had an open door, revealing a simple iron bed and neatly folded quilt. The other room's door was tightly closed, with a female poster of a famous perfume brand hanging above it, a stark contrast to the sparse surroundings.
"Are you sharing a house with someone?" Qin Chuan asked casually, placing the cooked food and a few cans of beer in his hands on the polished small square table.
Huang Qiang was bending over to grab a cup from an old cabinet in the corner. Hearing this, he didn't even pause. His voice came through the humming of the refrigerator, muffled: "No one."
"Oh..." Qin Chuan dragged out his words, his eyes sweeping across the closed door again, "Then what is this room...?"
"Put the stuff in there." Huang Qiang stood up straight and walked over with a glass in hand. His tone was calm, and he didn't even glance at the door, as if it was an insignificant existence. He set two clean glasses aside and began to pour wine, his movements mechanical and precise.
Qin Chuan suppressed his doubts and opened the package of cooked food with a smile: "Living in a two-bedroom apartment by yourself, you're so rich, Qiangzi."
Huang Qiang didn't respond, but simply pushed the full glass in front of him, picked up another glass, tilted his head back, and took a big sip. He drank vigorously, not as if he was enjoying himself, but more like completing a task.
The table began in silence. Qin Chuan tried to liven things up, recounting a few bizarre encounters while running orders, complaining about the system's algorithms, and grumbling about difficult customers. Huang Qiang mostly listened in silence, occasionally humming a "hmm" or offering a brief, one-word response. He drank rapidly, quietly finishing two glasses before Qin Chuan had even finished one.
Qin Chuan saw the right moment and began to carefully dig deeper into the topic: "It's not easy for a person to work hard here, right? Don't your family miss you? I see you work so hard, did you do this back home?"
Huang Qiang raised his eyelids and glanced at him. That look made Qin Chuan's heart tremble slightly, like an undercurrent lurking beneath the calm surface of a lake. "I've done everything," he said vaguely, pouring himself another glass of wine, "to make a living."
"Yeah, it's hard to get by anywhere these days." Qin Chuan echoed, raising his glass and clinking it with his. "Come on, let's have a drink! Cheers to those of us who work so hard!"
After a few rounds of drinking, Qin Chuan felt a burning sensation in his stomach and a heavy head. He was secretly alarmed. Huang Qiang's alcohol tolerance was far greater than he had imagined, or rather, his reaction to alcohol was unusually calm. He, on the other hand, had drunk too much to get the point across, and was now feeling a bit dizzy.
He forced himself to stay alert and probed again: "Speaking of which, we can be considered to have met an old friend in a foreign land, although it's a bit far from my hometown...Which part of Longdu is your hometown from? Maybe I've been there before..."
Huang Qiang's fingers holding the wine glass seemed to tighten slightly, but he didn't say anything. He just took another sip of wine, and then, for the first time, he took the initiative to pick up the bottle and fill Qin Chuan's empty glass.
"Brother Chuan," he said, his voice still low, but with an irresistible tone, "Drink."
The situation then spiraled out of control. Huang Qiang stopped responding passively and instead raised his glass repeatedly. His method of persuading people to drink was direct, even awkward: he kept pouring wine and then staring at you. That silent gaze itself felt like a form of pressure. Qin Chuan was in a difficult position and could only drink. He felt like he was trapped in a silent vortex. The more he struggled, the faster he sank.
His consciousness began to blur, and the scene before him swayed and spun. His last memory was of lying on the cold table, his own incoherent mumbling still echoing in his ears, but he couldn't remember the specific words.
After an unknown amount of time, he suddenly woke up from his drunken state.
My head aches, my stomach churns.
He was awakened by a sound.
It's not the sound of traffic outside the house, nor the noise next door.
The sound came from the crack of the tightly closed door of the inner room!
A deep, slightly hoarse male voice seemed to carry a hint of doubt: "...Can the guy outside... be trusted? Isn't he talking too much..."
Then, a shrill, strangely intoned female voice, as if deliberately pinching her throat, rang out, revealing an indescribable coldness and determination: "...What are you afraid of...I know what I'm doing...It's useful..."
(End of Chapter 4)
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