26 Convergence

The morning in City A was damp, with a misty haze hanging in the air, a gloom that suggested rain might arrive at any moment.

Ji He emerged from the district police station, followed by a few colleagues coming off their night shift. They were debating whether to grab a bite to eat first or head home to catch up on sleep.

Ji He gave Zhao Rong a reminder: "Sort through Jiang Ping's files this afternoon so we can take them with us."

Suddenly, a voice cut in abruptly: "Where are you going? To City B? I'm going too!"

Only then did the group notice Lu Shengxing, who had been standing by the door like a guardian statue with his backpack on.

"You..." Ji He, having a deep impression of his noisiness, didn't ask how he got the news. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and shot a cold, sharp glare at Zhao Rong.

Zhao Rong took a large step back and waved his hands frantically: "It wasn't me!"

"I saw a post online saying someone died in City B, and that our leader was at that same gathering. Even though the post was deleted by the moderator shortly after, do you know who I am? I tracked down the person who posted it!" Lu Shengxing followed closely behind them, his young face filled with a sense of justice. "Are you going to City B now to arrest my leader? Take me with you! I promise to be fair and impartial; I won't tip her off. I’ll do my best to convince her to turn herself in!"

Lu Shengxing’s clear, bright voice circled them in full 360-degree surround sound, much like the spinning flower candles that play birthday music.

Ji He’s headache, already aggravated by the sleepless night, worsened tenfold.

To make matters worse, Zhao Rong actually engaged him: "I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you call her 'Leader'?"

Lu Shengxing replied enthusiastically, "Because she looks like the type who’s meant to be a leader. Calling her 'Boss' doesn't sound formal enough, and 'Manager' doesn't quite fit."

The two birds began chattering about the dynamics at the bottom of the food chain.

"What’s wrong with 'Boss'?"

"If I call her 'Boss,' it sounds like my only goal is to ask for a raise. But 'Leader' is different; it represents a commitment to follow and be guided by her!"

Zhao Rong felt a subtle sensation as he remarked, "Your studio, is it always so..."

"So good at brown-nosing?" Before he could finish, Lu Shengxing puffed out his chest and snatched the topic.

The young man waved his arms like the most devout missionary delivering a sermon on the faith of workplace flattery: "Brown-nosing makes colleague relationships harmonious and reduces unnecessary, vicious competition. We actively encourage our colleagues to strive for first place in this arena, taking turns to keep our leader happy, improve the office atmosphere, and achieve collective raises. This is our noble and unshakable team culture!"

Zhao Rong found his eyes opened. He was about to sternly rebuke this twisted, sycophantic trend when he suddenly remembered how he had tried his best to curry favor with Ji He, working diligently toward that goal, only to have his attempts consistently backfire. With the old veterans in the office keen on adding fuel to the fire and making his situation precarious, he suddenly felt Lu Shengxing’s theory had some merit.

Over at the parking lot, Ji He found her car and let out a long sigh, having never felt this path was so long.

Lu Shengxing stopped talking and bounced over with the agility of a rabbit.

Ji He stared at him with gloomy eyes for a moment and said, "The car is full. I’m taking them home."

Lu Shengxing said, "That's fine, let me sit on the roof."

Everyone: "??"

Fearing he might get beaten up, Zhao Rong scolded him repeatedly: "Where do you think this is? You want us to drive you around like a peacock? Are there no traffic police on the roads of City A? Do you think detectives don't have to pay fines for traffic violations?!"

"Great!" Lu Shengxing grinned broadly, his expression guileless. "I knew you wouldn't be heartless enough to make me sit on the roof."

Everyone: "...??"

Ji He, too lazy to listen to their nonsense, opened the car door and got in. Lu Shengxing, with great situational awareness, followed right behind and snatched a seat in the back. Only Zhao Rong stood there like a block of wood, staring blankly at the now-full car.

Lu Shengxing leaned his upper body out and waved politely: "Goodbye."

With a look of pure satisfaction, he closed the door.

Ji He started the engine and drove off, leaving Zhao Rong behind, disheveled in the wind, staring dazedly at the taillights as if watching a heartless lover who had abandoned him.

"Huh? Why! Why!!"

Zhao Rong’s heart-wrenching question blared from the phone speaker.

"I worked overtime! I worked without complaint! My iron-strong body has been battered and bruised by you all, did I say anything? And you just left me behind!"

Ji He pressed her forehead, signaling Lu Shengxing to move the phone away.

That little demon, banking on the fact that she was driving and couldn't move freely, insisted on pointing the phone toward the front, letting everyone in the car listen to Zhao Rong’s inner turmoil.

A colleague on the side said, "Don't make it sound like we're some kind of slaughterhouse."

Lu Shengxing added with a sense of ownership, "Business trips are exhausting. You should take this opportunity to get some rest; we'll be back as soon as possible."

***

Zhao Rong asked, heartbroken, "Are you really not planning to take me to City B? Master! I’m your own apprentice!"

"Enough." Ji He was beyond annoyed. To cut off his new round of wailing, she gave him an assignment: "Liang Ming’s phone has been unreachable. Call your Brother Huang and go meet him. Ask him who he’s been in contact with lately. If the murderer really killed Jiang Ping because of Liang Ming, I suspect they must have revealed something to him, directly or indirectly."

Zhao Rong checked the GPS. The farmhouse where Liang Ming was staying was far away, spanning nearly the entire city. It was the morning rush hour, and even if he took the bypass to avoid traffic, it would take at least two hours. By the time he went there and back, Ji He would definitely have already left with the others.

A "No, I don't want to" was just about to roll off his tongue when Ji He added, "Take Jiang Ping’s wife to City B tomorrow. I’ve already bought your high-speed rail ticket. It’s over a thousand kilometers from here; only a fool would drive."

Zhao Rong immediately deflated and obediently replied, "Okay."

Lu Shengxing hung up the phone and asked shrewdly, "Was that 'fool' insulting our leader?"

Catching Ji He’s expression in the rearview mirror, he understood the rules of being on a pirate ship. He shifted his seat and said respectfully and flatteringly, "I won't tell her. From now on, you are my leader."

Ji He pulled over to the side and pointed outside: "We’re here."

Lu Shengxing thought they had arrived at the station, but when he looked out excitedly, he saw his own company building.

Ji He said, "Get out. Stop dreaming."

Seeing her so heartless, Lu Shengxing said angrily, "I'll buy my own ticket! I'm taking a plane! First class!"

He pushed the door open forcefully, huffed, and then gently closed it behind him.

***

Around 11:00 AM.

The mountain mist had not yet cleared when a car pulled up to the gate of the farmhouse. Zhao Rong and a colleague stepped out.

Two mahjong tables were set up in the front hall, and a few people were gathered around, laughing and playing. Zhao Rong’s eyes swept over the group until he found Liang’s mother, whom he recognized from the files. He flashed a slightly naive smile: "Hello, ma'am."

The owner at the table stood up to greet them: "Are you boys looking to stay?"

Zhao Rong’s amiable appearance was quite deceptive, but as soon as Liang’s mother saw their build and demeanor, she guessed they were police. She stood up like a frightened bird, but because she rose too quickly, her vision went black, and she swayed unsteadily.

Zhao Rong lunged forward to steady her, and even after she regained her balance, he didn't dare let go.

Liang’s mother gripped his wrist tightly with both hands, her voice hoarse: "What happened to Liang Ming?"

Zhao Rong said flawlessly, "Nothing happened to him. I’m the younger brother of a friend of his; I’m helping my brother drop something off for him. We agreed to meet him here. Is he in his room?"

He guided her toward the stairs as he spoke.

Liang’s mother’s face was bloodless, her pupils unfocused. She forced herself to steady her nerves, her teeth chattering: "He went fishing. He went out last night and hasn't come back. Lately, he sleeps during the day and goes out at night."

"Then could you please give him a call?"

The three of them stopped halfway up the stairs.

Liang’s mother pulled out her phone, but there was only a busy signal. This caused her to lose control for a moment. Afraid to meet Zhao Rong’s eyes, fearing she would hear harsh questioning, she explained in a panic: "He often doesn't carry his phone; it might be lost in his room again. I’ve scolded him several times, but he just won't listen. He hasn't run away."

Fearing they wouldn't believe her, she insisted on taking them to Liang Ming’s room, even though Zhao Rong tried to decline.

The two police officers stood at the doorway, watching Liang’s mother frantically turn the room upside down. She dug a phone out from a pile of cluttered items on the table and showed it to them uneasily: "Comrades, look, the phone is right here. He has no friends, he doesn't use it much, and he’s always forgetting where he throws it."

She scrambled to find a charging cable and plugged the phone in.

Only after connecting it did she realize the phone wasn't out of power; it had been turned off by Liang Ming. A wave of sorrow washed over her, an unbearable bitterness—both a heartache for her son and the lingering trauma of years of nightmares.

She leaned on the table with one hand, pressing her forehead with the other, tears streaming down her face: "Liang Ming doesn't like answering calls, and he doesn't like talking to people, fearing they’ll ask what he does for a living. He acts all cheeky and indifferent, but he’s been reflecting, Officer. He hasn't gone anywhere recently; he’s just been here with me..."

Her stretched-to-the-limit heartstrings couldn't withstand the slightest disturbance. She feared this peace was just a mirage that would vanish if she reached out to touch the water.

Facing the police, that sense of despair burned her into ashes, crushed underfoot, and by the end, she was too choked up to speak.

"Ma'am, we just have a case and need to ask him a few questions. It might not even be related to him, and we aren't here to take him in for questioning."

Zhao Rong tried his best to soften his tone, but it had little effect. He looked back at his colleague in despair, sharing a bitter look, finally understanding why Ji He hadn't come herself and had instead pawned this task off on him.

Zhao Rong’s tall, awkward frame stood beside Liang’s mother, looking like a clumsy bear. He didn't dare let the old woman keep crying, feeling like he was covered in thorns, enduring the agony until Liang Ming arrived like a savior.

"What are you doing?"

Zhao Rong gestured for him to come over quickly: "We're here to ask you a few things; your mother might have misunderstood."

***

Liang’s mother wiped her face with a tissue, her eyes red as she looked at him.

Liang Ming put his tools away in the bathroom, walked over with his head down, and after a few short steps, looked up, adjusting his expression into a nonchalant, devil-may-care look: "Mom, your mental fortitude is so weak. If something really happened, how would I take you on the run?"

Liang’s mother was so angry she pinched him: "What nonsense are you spouting in front of the police!"

Liang Ming said with a cheeky grin, "Mom, go back downstairs and play mahjong. If you stay here, the people downstairs will start gossiping about me."

Zhao Rong’s colleague also added, "Ma'am, we’re just going to ask a few questions, don't worry."

Liang’s mother left the room reluctantly, carefully closing the door behind her.

Once he heard her go downstairs, Liang Ming took off his jacket and said calmly, "I'll keep my phone on me next time and set a special alert for you. Don't go looking for the old lady if you need something; she's afraid of the police."

Zhao Rong, knowing he had frightened her, felt a tinge of guilt.

Liang Ming asked, "What is it?"

Zhao Rong said, "Jiang Ping is dead."

Liang Ming asked subconsciously, "Who is Jiang Ping?"

Zhao Rong was stunned: "Jiang Ping is the classmate who framed you back in junior high."

"Oh... Jiang Ping. His name is Jiang Ping?" Hearing news of this person again, Liang Ming’s heart felt unexpectedly calm, like a dead sea; he couldn't even recall the face.

When he transferred schools in junior high, he had thought this humiliation would be etched into his bones forever, impossible to forget even in death. He had even listed over eighteen versions of how he would take revenge after becoming a ghost. He hadn't expected that mentioning it now would feel as light as a feather.

He poured himself a glass of water, stood there holding it, lost in thought, and remarked with a touch of melancholy: "It’s so strange. Hearing he’s dead, I don't feel happy at all."

Zhao Rong exchanged a look with his colleague. The colleague said, "That’s why life has no insurmountable obstacles. If you had just held your temper back then, imagine how much better things would be now."

Liang Ming took a sip of water, ignored the comment, and asked, "So, why are you looking for me?"

Zhao Rong didn't know how to answer.

Liang Ming said, "Because I’ve killed people?"

He said this without resentment, just with a faint, almost imperceptible sigh.

Zhao Rong asked stiffly, "Has anyone contacted you recently? Your father’s former students, friends, anyone."

Liang Ming retrieved his crumpled jacket, searched through the pockets, and handed over a white business card.

Zhao Rong flipped it over and over: "What is this?"

"I don't know, someone gave it to me last night. I was planning to find a Taoist temple and burn it." Liang Ming said seriously, "This person seems to know my father. I don't know what you're investigating, but he's the creepiest person I've ever met."

Zhao Rong accepted the card, half-believing, and took out his phone to do a rough search for the company name printed on it.

***

The phone screen displayed the large digits: "11:23."

The pale white light illuminated Fang Qingzhou’s face, dispelling her last bit of drowsiness.

The room’s curtains were drawn tight, with only a soft nightlight glowing by the bed.

Zhou Suirong had pulled up a chair to the bedside and was organizing data on his computer in the dim, yellow light.

Fang Qingzhou turned over, lay flat, and stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Zhou Suirong, assuming she was deep in thought, didn't interrupt her state and closed his computer to watch her quietly.

Fang Qingzhou moved her eyes to meet his gaze. After a moment of silence, she whispered, "Brother Rong, the way you appear is a bit like a ghost."

Zhou Suirong said, "I came to find you three times this morning, but you wouldn't wake up. It’s noon now. Why were you staying up so late last night?"