Chapter 14: The Crimson Pursuit of Justice (Part II)

A light, airy object slowly drifted down and landed atop his head. The strange sensation sent a chill down his spine. Meng Qingyi froze for a moment, quickly reaching up to feel it, only to discover it was a light, wooden stick-like object.

He hurriedly held it up before his eyes. In the moonlight, a colorful fishing float shimmered softly. Above the float was a fishing line—more precisely, a hookless fishing line that had descended from above.

What was this...?

After a brief hesitation, his gaze shifted to the end of the fishing line, where a thoughtfully tied knot was already in place.

That knot was unmistakably familiar—it was one he had learned from a survival magazine. Boys had little resistance to such useless tricks; once mastered, he was ready to teach a few close friends. Though Ruoping and Dukang scoffed at it as useless, only one person shared his opinion that it looked cool.

This knot was among the most reliable types. Once secured around something, a gentle pull on the line’s end would hold it fast.

It even seemed to account for their cramped position in the reed bed—like a mother cutting fruit into pieces for you, this smart fishing line seemed to see through their predicament at a glance.

At this moment, it felt like a divine blessing descending from the heavens—a timely aid beyond words.

The boy’s eyes brightened, understanding dawning in his heart.

Suppressing his excitement, he took a deep breath and gently pulled the fishing line. Suddenly, it seemed alive, extending downward.

Qingyi looped the knotted end around a reed before him, mentally measuring its length, then pulled the line again.

The fishing line extended further in perfect harmony.

Finally, when both sides were long enough to reach the reeds on the opposite bank, he gave one last tug. The line stopped abruptly.

This clever fishing line seemed to have more to do. After all, only one end had a knot so far.

Then, he thought he heard the crisp snap of metal cutting something.

Meng Qingyi knew all he could do now was wait patiently.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he fixed his gaze ahead—

The reeds at the man’s feet had been filled into the pit completely. The man straightened up and moved back toward the reed bed.

At that moment, the fishing line above suddenly dropped all at once.

He had no idea how long he had waited for this moment.

Meng Qingyi grabbed the fishing line, and at the other end, sure enough, was a freshly tied knot—everything arranged perfectly, just waiting for him to loop it around a reed beside him.

But now was no time to marvel at this.

The man drew nearer, and Ruoping instinctively glanced toward him.

In a flash, Meng Qingyi quickly hung the knot on a reed in front of the girl, positioned just below the Adam’s apple height.

With one hand, he grabbed Ruoping’s clothes and suddenly pulled her backward.

Caught off guard, the girl stumbled back, her startled cry still on her lips.

Meng Qingyi also fell backward with the momentum. At the last moment, he drove his elbow into Dukang’s abdomen—

“Ahh—!”

“Damn!”

Their screams pierced the night simultaneously.

The man halted abruptly and shouted, “Who’s there?!”

Only the silent reeds responded with a flicker of movement.

The man hesitated, then his eyes flashed with savage light. He raised his dagger and charged into the reeds, ready to strike—

Everyone’s breath caught. The moonlight glinted coldly off the blade, all eyes focused on the spot.

Then—

“Gasp...”

Like a strangled choke, the rushing man suddenly froze as if under a spell.

He clutched his throat in agony, struggling in place.

Not far in front of him, Feng Ruoping had just struggled to her feet, startled by the sudden change.

Unsure whether to flee or act, she heard a familiar sharp command from above, which made her eyes brim with tears:

“Dukang! Qingyi! Attack!”

Two shadows lunged forward swiftly.

One pinned the man’s waist and knocked him to the ground.

The other firmly stepped on the man’s dagger-wielding hand.

The chaotic situation was instantly controlled.

The girl turned her head to see a boy half-kneeling on the dirt road above, hands pressed to the ground.

His eyes shone brightly in the night, and for once, a wide smile spread across his face.

“How’s that? Didn’t I say looking cool was enough?”

...

After teasing Ruoping, Zhang Shutong looked away, confirming the assailant was restrained.

Qingyi not only knew survival skills, but also wielded a devastating hand strike—an ultimate move even Zhang hadn’t mastered, a secret technique passed down sparingly.

Qingyi delivered a solid blow to the man’s nape, and he quietly collapsed.

Only then did Zhang finally relax, though he didn’t rush down.

While Zhang held back, Feng Ruoping hurried over.

“You’re okay, right?”

Expecting admiring eyes, he instead found the girl covering her mouth, voice choked.

“You still say…”

Though usually bold and fiery, girls were still girls.

He smiled helplessly but didn’t comfort her.

If she needed comforting, she wouldn’t be Feng Ruoping.

“You’re still kneeling here? Know you’re cool already, okay?” The girl crossed her arms, masking her earlier vulnerability with a fierce tone.

Zhang pointed to his feet.

“Look.”

He hadn’t posed intentionally; earlier, to avoid alerting the enemy, he’d parked his bike far away, taken off his shoes, and approached barefoot in socks, carrying the fishing pole, stick, and scissors.

Honestly, the ground was freezing. His feet were nearly numb.

“Are you… cold?” Ruoping suddenly fell silent, then anxiously looked around and dashed to fetch his shoes.

Once Zhang put them on, they descended the dirt slope and examined the man.

Dukang and Qingyi joined them, while Lu Qinglian went to the edge of the pit, seemingly studying something.

That girl had a lot of courage. Even Zhang needed psychological preparation to approach.

Then again, why wouldn’t he want to see what the killer who would murder him eight years later looked like?

But whatever the others thought, Zhang couldn’t care.

After all, that was eight years in the future.

He chatted with his friends, who began to guess what had happened.

Ruoping, probably pent-up, immediately asked why he came back instead of pursuing the man.

“You all knew?” Zhang was surprised—it was the one thing he hadn’t expected.

“Qingyi deduced it. Your two reasons contradicted each other.”

“Okay, well, actually my mom just asked me to deliver something, didn’t push me.”

He accepted the latter but blamed his mother for the former, to keep it simple.

“So how did you get back?”

“Saw Ruoping’s call.”

Zhang shrugged.

If time rewound to minutes earlier, when he was cycling, torn between chasing or not, he chose not.

Reason one: years of experience taught him to trust himself, not the police stopping in time.

Reason two: though finding the killer was important, more unknown dangers lay ahead; his impatience aside, risking himself alone wasn’t wise.

He went to a place with signal, saw Ruoping’s missed call, and hurried back.

Now, he was glad he chose that.

Luckily, he arrived just in time.

---

Dukang was puzzled.

“How did you know something happened here?”

“Simple,” Zhang explained.

“You know Ruoping; if nothing’s wrong, she’d spam you on QQ. Since I only saw a call, no follow-ups, something was definitely wrong.

“I didn’t know this guy circled behind me, but I called the cops and hurried back. Passing here, I kept an eye out, saw no bike tracks, then you guys hiding in the reeds, a man digging a pit by the bank, and…”

After this long explanation, Zhang was tired.

“Well, ask Qingyi.”

Qingyi then recounted the fishing line story.

Friends never held back praise, but honestly, they were so familiar there wasn’t much excitement.

Zhang earned three KFC meals—each of the three friends got one—and they arranged to go eat tender beef sandwiches in town that weekend.

“How could you all eat KFC?”

Zhang nearly vomited from the strong stench and quickly stopped them, suggesting they discuss later at home.

He shone his flashlight on the man and motioned:

“Let’s see how he’s doing.”

Among them, no one was more anxious than Zhang.

Indeed, only he wanted to expose the killer’s true face; the others followed to the pit edge, curious and scared.

Zhang ignored them and shone the light on the man’s face.

The man had a very fat face, bald head, with a scar running from his temple to his chin.

No other features.

Zhang racked his memory but recognized no one.

But not knowing was reasonable; he was the only one targeted to be silenced.

He planned to photograph the man to ask Gu Qiumian tomorrow.

Just as he reached for his phone, Ruoping exclaimed and turned away, nearly vomiting.

“I told you to look less.”

Just imagining the bloodshed was enough.

“Not...”

Ruoping pinched her nose, catching her breath before saying:

“You see for yourself... No, it’s too stinky here, I have to go up for air…”

Clearly frightened, she didn’t want to walk alone at night.

She tugged on Lu Qinglian’s sleeve.

“Qinglian, come up with me. Stop looking. I haven’t eaten all week…”

As they left, Dukang retched and followed.

Zhang called after them:

“Good, you can call the police.”

He had called earlier but only reported something happening in a wild area west of the island, unsure exactly where; Dukang could specify.

With the three gone, Qingyi stayed behind.

Zhang pinched his nose and crouched beside him.

“Guess what’s in there?”

Qingyi held his nose, mumbling.

Zhang shone the flashlight on the pit, already disturbed by Qingyi.

He had imagined many gruesome scenes, but what lay inside was all too familiar—

A pit full of fish.

Fish?

Zhang looked at the man lying on the ground.

Qingyi, holding his breath, said:

“We were all wrong. This isn’t a murderer. Dukang was right…”

Forget what Dukang said; Zhang now understood what was in the pit and was equally surprised:

“Electric fishing?”

The pit was filled with rotting fish corpses, exuding a strong stench of blood and decay.

“That’s from electric fishing,” Qingyi cursed rare for him.

“I thought it was a murderer, you know? I was scared stiff. If I’d known it was an electric fishing guy, no need to hide so long. Hindsight…”

He shook his head.

“No use talking. I’m a Monday-morning quarterback. Even if it’s electric fishing, if not for you, Shutong, Ruoping might’ve been in danger.”

Zhang wasn’t interested in taking credit; as long as everyone was fine, that was enough.

He felt a little frustrated, no better than Qingyi.

Though it ended up safe, the process was winding.

When Dukang and the others pinned the man down, even Zhang felt a rare surge of excitement.

“So it was you—the one who killed me, Gu Qiumian, and Lu Qinglian. Didn’t expect to be caught the first day back, huh?”

Though it felt almost too easy to solve, he remembered how easily he’d been killed.

And yet, they caught an electric fishing guy.

At that moment, he really wanted a cigarette.

But there was no smoke, only the overwhelming stench.

“I want to be alone…”

“Me too.”

They exchanged glances, turned their backs, inhaled the scant fresh air, then looked back at the fish pit.

Qingyi rummaged through the man’s belongings, having already searched him.

“See, this is the snake-skin bag Dukang mentioned—it’s for dead fish. The other thing he carried is a shovel… Oh, and this. Shutong, guess what this is?”

Qingyi pulled a fire stick-like object from the man’s back.

“An electric fishing spear?”

“Exactly. I thought it was a gun…”

Zhang looked at his friend’s exasperated face and almost laughed.

Though frustrated, seeing others more so eased his mood.

But the smell was unbearable, so he closed his mouth and muttered:

“Forget it, as long as it’s nothing serious. I was worried you wouldn’t get my meaning.”

“You know, I was shocked. The way you threw it on my head was genius. Honestly, those two probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

Qingyi muttered again:

“Why does Dukang always run into trouble?”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember? Last week he said he saw electric fishing and righteously reported it, but the cops didn’t believe him. We didn’t either. Turns out he was right—probably saw this guy.”

Hearing that, Zhang recalled.

Earlier at the police station, the cops doubted him because they’d just been tricked by a kid with a baby face claiming someone was electric fishing. When the cops patrolled, the kids just went fishing elsewhere.

Zhang himself had thought it was a lie kids made up to fish more easily, but it was true.

He chuckled bitterly.

This was a case of loving dragons while fearing real ones.

If that fainted man really was the killer, the four of them might not have handled it so easily.

At last, this unusual night was over.

After wandering in the cold wind all night, confirming the man’s identity, he realized how exhausted he was and just wanted to collapse into bed.

“But don’t you think something’s off?” Qingyi suddenly asked.

As soon as things were settled, this guy’s nagging returned.

“Speak,” Zhang rolled his eyes.

“I thought about it. When I hung the fishing line, didn’t I have Dukang shout to draw him over?

“But if he’s just an electric fishing guy, it’s not a major crime. At worst, he’d get a few days in custody. Why brandish a knife?”

“That’s true.”

Zhang stroked his chin, thoughtful.

Anyway, the matter was settled.

They still had to wait for the police, so they couldn’t leave yet.

He was interested in playing detective games with his friends—something they enjoyed.

“Maybe he was a fugitive before?” Zhang mused. “Did you find anything else on him?”

“Wallet, Swiss Army knife, lighter, cigarettes… Oh, and a phone,” Qingyi said, returning to the man’s belongings.

“But we don’t know the password. It’s useless.”

“That’s common enough.”

Zhang stood but felt something was off.

He furrowed his brow, almost connecting the dots but missing a tiny detail.

Maybe tonight was too tiring; he couldn’t catch that spark.

Qingyi lost interest first, despite proposing the deduction.

“Forget it. Just a bald electric fishing guy. Why bother? It stinks here. Better go home and read my novel. Look at Ruoping and the others—they went up and haven’t come down. We look foolish staying here so long.”

Zhang agreed.

An electric fishing guy wasn’t worth studying.

Sure, the man had acted oddly, but desperate people did desperate things. Drawing a knife wasn’t surprising.

They followed their friends up the slope.

Passing the man, Zhang stole one last glance.

Still a scarred bald man.

Wait—

Bald head...

Bald... head?

Zhang suddenly froze, rushing to the man’s side.

He didn’t look at the man but quickly scanned the items laid out—common belongings scattered on the ground.

“What’s wrong? Thought of something?”

Qingyi turned.

“Was he like this from the start? Are you sure you found everything, nothing missing?”

“Of course. His Swiss knife fell in the reeds; I picked it up. What did you find?”

In the night wind, a chill swept over him.

He stared at Qingyi, speaking deliberately:

“Then… where’s the baseball cap Dukang saw?”

Qingyi was stunned.

“That can’t be. The woven bag matches, though. Wait, I’ll call him down…”

They hurried up the slope.

Before reaching the top, they saw Dukang standing on the dirt road.

Qingyi complained:

“Why aren’t you with us? Why hang with two girls? If you have questions, come down.”

Before he finished, Zhang tugged him back.

Qingyi instinctively looked back but saw Zhang’s gaze fixed on Dukang’s face.

Meng Qingyi looked too, shocked.

Dukang no longer wore his usual smile; instead, he pulled a grimace worse than crying.

The boy’s voice strained through clenched teeth:

“Shutong, there’s... more than one of them…”

...

“More than one…”

No sooner had he spoken than the flashlight’s strong beam filled their vision.

Zhang immediately pulled Qingyi down.

The light burned their eyes, leaving everything white for a long moment.

He turned his head, frowning hard, barely making out the scene ahead:

An empty dirt road.

Behind Dukang stood Ruoping, her eyes red.

Behind Ruoping was Lu Qinglian.

And behind Lu Qinglian—

A tall, slender man wearing a baseball cap.

The man lowered the flashlight, smiling coldly without moving a muscle.

“You finally all gathered. No one else, right?”

A thin mustache curled on his lips like a sinister snake.

Zhang’s mind buzzed; his relaxed nerves instantly tightened.

Their position was precarious: he was below, the man above.

Now was no time to be captured all at once.

He was about to push Qingyi down the slope when the man shouted:

“Don’t move! Hands up!”

Before Zhang could react, the man raised something.

Zhang’s heart sank—

The man held a long gun.

The muzzle pressed to Lu Qinglian’s head.

Zhang released Qingyi’s clothes and slowly raised his hands.

“That’s it. Drop everything on the ground. Line up and stand…”

The man’s mustache twitched as he spoke.

Zhang followed orders, deliberately slowing his steps.

He glanced at two phones thrown on the ground—likely Ruoping’s and Dukang’s.

His mind raced for a plan.

The police report had failed from the start; that was why the man was so brazen.

But the man probably didn’t know Zhang had already called the cops—maybe they could use this to their advantage.

Still, they couldn’t say when the police would arrive.

What if the man took desperate measures?

Why was Lu Qinglian the one caught?

Of the group, she was the easiest to control.

Zhang recalled her long robe made running difficult.

If she sensed danger and pulled her robe, she’d be trapped.

They had to delay as much as possible until the police arrived.

If possible, they’d wrest control back...

No, first and foremost, Lu Qinglian’s safety had to be ensured.

A swirl of thoughts raced his mind.

Anxiety and restlessness welled up but he forced them down.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.

The man seemed to see through his intentions:

“Trying to stall, huh? You two go ahead!” He pointed at Dukang and Ruoping.

“You two carry Wang Kang up here. Don’t try anything!”

Ruoping and Dukang hesitated.

The man barked again:

“Go!”

He jabbed the gun butt hard into Lu Qinglian’s head—

Time seemed to freeze.

Under the dim moonlight.

Cold wind howled through the silence.

Naked malice surged like waves.

Ruoping seemed to close her eyes, unwilling to watch.

Dukang clenched his teeth, holding back anger.

Qingyi turned his back, flicking his phone down the slope.

The wind stilled.

Then Zhang saw Lu Qinglian’s brows knit.

The expected sound of metal striking skull never came.

She only tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable.

Next moment, beneath the man’s shocked and furious face,

The girl moved.

She crouched, twisted her waist, shifted sideways, lifted her leg.

Her dark hair and robe surged like a poised storm.

Beneath the fluttering robe, a flash of her slender leg—

Like a cannonball—

Suddenly slammed into the man’s chest!