16 Identity
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Zhou Suirong flipped through recent news from City A. He found no reports of any cases involving Fang Qingzhao, nor any wanted notices that might cause his heart to skip a beat. He let out a slight sigh of relief.
The curtains were drawn, and the quiet, dim room lulled him into a mild drowsiness. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes and pretended to nap.
In less than five minutes, a buzzing sound, sharper than thunder, jolted him awake.
From some unknown corner of the room, a mosquito appeared, circling around the two of them.
Zhou Suirong dared not swat it with his hand; he waved vaguely in the air but failed to catch the insect, which then veered toward Fang Qingzhao.
He sat up, eyes struggling to track the mosquito in the dim light. Moving closer, he heard the faint, varying hum of its wings. Dutifully, he began shooing the mosquito away from Fang Qingzhao, feeling oddly perplexed about the whole situation.
Looking down, he noticed Fang Qingzhao had awakened. His hand hovered just above her side, appearing suspiciously ambiguous.
Fang Qingzhao, still groggy, muttered in a low, husky voice, “Do you hate me that much?”
Zhou Suirong withdrew his hand but said nothing in response to her sleep-talking.
She turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but the drowsiness was even harder to catch than that persistent mosquito. After half an hour, fully awake, she sat up with a solemn expression, lost in thought.
Zhou Suirong knew she had been awake for a while, so he didn’t interrupt her reverie. He got up and pulled back the curtains.
Just then, his phone vibrated. Zhou Suirong received a message from Lu Shengxing.
The message read: “Brother Zhou, I’ve made contacts in the police circle. They came to have tea with me today. [Happy]”
Zhou Suirong stared at the screen for a while, feeling that, after spending so much time with Fang Qingzhao, his proficiency in human language had somewhat regressed.
Noticing his cautious, almost wary way of replying, Fang Qingzhao asked, “Who are you chatting with?”
“Xiao Xing,” Zhou Suirong answered.
The very mention of that name annoyed her; her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton.
Being in the same space as Lu Shengxing, silence was a rare luxury. Even if he didn’t speak, the mechanical keyboard under his fingers clattered incessantly.
Their company’s humane benefit forbade unnecessary conversations during work hours.
Fang Qingzhao moved to the bedside to look for her shoes. Zhou Suirong hooked her foot with his and gestured for her to look up. They sat facing each other.
The two beds in the standard room were placed close together due to limited space. Zhou Suirong’s long legs stretched forward, trapping her between them. He handed her a bottle of water and said, “Let’s talk.”
Suspicious, Fang Qingzhao asked, “About what?”
Feigning nonchalance, she said, “You know, nagging about the same thing over and over is pointless and unappealing.”
Zhou Suirong smiled and tapped her knee. “Why were you mad at me before?”
She breathed a sigh of relief and retorted, “I didn’t vent any negative emotions at you.”
Pausing, she corrected herself, “I was a bit dissatisfied because you kept insisting we broke up and told me to stay away.”
Zhou Suirong doubted himself: Did he really say that?
Before he could ponder further, she asked, “Do you think that was right?”
He was left speechless.
After a restful sleep, Fang Qingzhao’s mind cleared, and she revisited old grievances one by one:
“You used music to block me, telling me to shut up.”
“You accused me of speaking harshly, but I had no ill intent.”
“You told me to find topics myself, then got impatient and left.”
“To avoid eating with me, you made an excuse to go to the restroom.”
She concluded firmly, “You have issues with me.”
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Zhou Suirong was bewildered by her accusations, feeling both wronged as if frost fell in June and guilty beyond redemption.
He heard a “click” in his mind, a knot locking tight, and yielded to the prompt, uttering, “Sorry?”
Fang Qingzhao nodded in acceptance. “Okay.”
She pushed aside his legs, bent down to lace her shoes, and said contentedly, “Let’s go. Change of scenery—I don’t like it here.”
Zhou Suirong grabbed his bag and followed her, still puzzled, circling a single question in his mind: Why?
·
Zhou Suirong drove toward the nearby city as darkness fell.
Driving at night was unsafe, so they searched for another hotel.
They had covered less than a third of the journey on the first day. Fang Qingzhao remained calm and unhurried, so Zhou Suirong did not press.
At six the next morning, after breakfast, they set off again.
This time, Fang Qingzhao was full of energy. She pulled her laptop and tablet from the trunk.
Worried she might get motion sickness again, Zhou Suirong warned, “Don’t play around.”
Fang Qingzhao opened a chat group, clicked to play the voice messages automatically, and set the tablet down.
“Friends, after Lao Liang’s banquet, shall we all hang out?”
“I haven’t been back to City B in a long time; better spend more time with my parents. You all go ahead.”
“All who can make it on the 3rd, come! It’s been years; let’s see you all again.”
“Agreed! No kids allowed at the party.”
“Liang Yizheng is the big man—congratulations on your wedding!”
Zhou Suirong was lost. “Who’s Liang Yizheng? You know him?”
Fang Qingzhao shook her head. “I don’t.”
She explained vaguely, “There was a recent murder in City A. The main suspect has been caught, but an accomplice is still on the loose. The accomplice was arrogant enough to leave a wedding invitation at the body’s hiding place. The groom is this Liang Yizheng. I need to get close to them to see if there’s any problem.”
Zhou Suirong’s suspicion grew.
What did this have to do with Fang Qingzhao? Had she switched careers to become a police consultant?
He repeated to himself not to ask too much, convincing himself, then inquired, “How did you get into this group?”
Fang Qingzhao wore an expression of effortless yet tedious explanation: “I originally found their class group, but the admin probably abandoned it and didn’t approve my request. So I switched my IP to City B and posted a local message on various social platforms, asking if any old friends were going to Liang Yizheng’s wedding. Then I paid to promote the post. Within an hour, someone asked who I was.
“I planned to have Xiao Xing chat for me, but their style was rigid and boring. AI could handle it better. After a night’s work, I got Liang Yizheng’s basic info, added his friends, and got pulled into eight groups.”
Zhou Suirong was speechless.
Why so many chat groups? That was beyond Fang Qingzhao’s knowledge. She skimmed the AI’s summary of thousands of messages and found only a few hundred words of useful info. The nonsense rate was on a whole other level compared to Lu Shengxing.
“They’re planning a bachelor party for Liang Yizheng on September 8th. It’ll be crowded but too far away. I persuaded them to have a high school reunion on September 3rd instead, and they agreed.”
Zhou Suirong shuddered. “Your behavior makes me think you’re a scammer.”
“Where?” Fang Qingzhao argued confidently. “I’m just sending a gift money — that’s called being the god of wealth.”
The group’s voice messages continued to play automatically. A familiar nickname made veins throb on Zhou Suirong’s temple.
“Xiao Zhao, take more pictures when you get here. Our class hasn’t had a group photo in ages.”
“Yeah, Xiao Zhao, please! I agree you don’t have to split the bill for the dinner.”
“What bill? Brother Wang’s such a big boss, he already said he’d treat everyone. You’re looking down on him.”
“Isn’t it the groom Liang Yizheng who’s treating?”
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“Xiao Zhao, will you take photos? If yes, I’ll put on makeup. If not, these old rascals don’t deserve my full makeup.”
Zhou Suirong saw Fang Qingzhao lowering her head to reply. He had a vague foreboding and asked respectfully, “Who is this Xiao Zhao?”
“I invented the identity,” Fang Qingzhao explained. “Graduated from City B Third High School. Studied finance in college but couldn’t find a suitable job, so switched to photography. Skilled at taking influencer-style photos. Recently too busy to take private commissions.”
Zhou Suirong was incredulous. “You take photos?” Fang Qingzhao’s knowledge of cameras was limited to “turn on,” “shoot,” and “turn off.”
“I don’t,” she admitted. “But you do.”
Realizing she hadn’t informed him when the plan was finalized, she now tried to make amends. Gently tapping Zhou Suirong’s shoulder, she entrusted him with the task.
“Oh, so it’s this Xiao Zhou,” he drawled, “bossing me around.”
He suddenly thought of something and, unable to suppress a chuckle mixed with teasing, asked, “So, what’s Xiao Zhao’s role when she follows me? My assistant or my girlfriend?”
Unexpectedly, Fang Qingzhao answered seriously, “I’m your boss.”
Zhou Suirong’s mouth twitched slightly.
She calmly outlined her reasoning: “I’ll pay you twenty thousand yuan to follow-shoot me for a week. When you take leave to attend the reunion, I’ll show interest and go with you. Of course, I considered your appearance carefully. They’ll reasonably assume I’m pursuing you.”
Zhou Suirong was speechless.
Fang Qingzhao confidently added, “This way, I don’t have to engage in awkward small talk or exaggerate nostalgic memories. I can subtly gather scattered information. Even if I say something inappropriate and seem difficult, it’ll only increase their sympathy for you and help you get closer to them.”
Zhou Suirong remained silent.
Finishing her explanation, hearing no response, she humbly asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you have different suggestions?”
Zhou Suirong praised her, “Perfect in every way.” Except she hadn’t considered his feelings, it was comprehensive.
Fang Qingzhao nodded. “Xiao Zhou, you can improvise your character; I left you some room.”
“Thank you, Boss Fang.” Zhou Suirong, now battle-hardened and composed, solemnly said, “I’m trying to get into character.”
Fang Qingzhao admired his work ethic. “Good.”
Xiao Zhou tried to immerse himself in the role but had no natural talent for it. His mind wandered like a wild monkey on a speeding vehicle. He asked, “Are you really going to pay me?”
Speaking slowly with worry, he said, “Boss Fang, what if someone offers a higher price to have me follow-shoot?”
Fang Qingzhao replied, “Tell them to contact me; I’ll give them a legal lesson.”
Zhou Suirong hesitated, “What if you get recognized?”
“Unlikely. I’m low-profile and rarely attend online events. They won’t have the chance to meet me,” Fang Qingzhao said. “If they do recognize me, it’s fine—I really am your boss.”
Zhou Suirong chuckled softly. “Alright, Boss Fang.”
Fang Qingzhao casually handed Liang Yizheng’s business card and information to Ji He, about to check earlier unread messages when an incoming voice call popped up.
Without suspicion, she answered.
Ji He’s voice was firm and forceful: “Fang Qingzhao, the South City Branch of City A Police Department kindly reminds you—turn back while you still can, right now—”
Fang Qingzhao hurriedly tapped to hang up.
The car fell into a deathly silence.
Outside, the wind howled.
Zhou Suirong’s heart, just moments ago gently cleansed by warmth, was suddenly swept up and thrown hundreds of meters high, vanishing into the void.