The frigid, straight-as-a-arrow and masculine Xie Qingcheng never could have imagined that there would come a day when a boy would curse him out as an old pervert in his head.
Nor could he have dreamed that said boy had climbed on top of him the previous night like a little pervert himself and forcibly kissed him with such hot-blooded urgency that he nearly shoved his tongue into his mouth.
It seemed that some schoolboys these days took the wholly unreasonable path of weaponizing their good looks, excellent grades, and the fact that they would have still been considered minors centuries ago in order to act with such impunity.
He Yu was one such wholly unreasonable xueba who was using acting in a drama as a means of softening the heartache from his unrequited crush. But he was a last-minute replacement for a rather insubstantial role, and the series was short. As a result, filming wrapped up quickly and he returned to school.
Before heading back, he sent a message to Xie Qingcheng, then left the hotel with his suitcase in tow.
The day He Yu returned to school, Chen Man invited Xie Qingcheng to visit the cemetery with him bright and early in the morning.
The little police officer had just solved his first case all by himself and felt that this occasion was worth commemorating, so he wanted to have a chat with his big brother.
"It was an interprovincial case." Chen Man was carrying a fruit basket and paper money as he walked through the cemetery over to his brother's gravestone. His movements were hurried, and he nearly tripped over a bush.
"An interprovincial bicycle gang thievery case," said Xie Qingcheng. Chen Man's face turned red. "B-bicycles are vehicles too. They're still assets of the people…"
Xie Qingcheng paid him no attention. He took the fruit basket, set it before the grave as an offering, and lit the paper money on fire. The heat from the flames created a halo of distortion in the air. Xie Qingcheng looked at the photograph of the striking, young police officer on the gravestone and the row of characters traced over with gold dust.
In remembrance of Chen Lisheng.
Chen Lisheng's life had been cut short in his early twenties. Xie Qingcheng's impression of him had already grown fuzzy—he only remembered that, unlike Chen Man, Chen Lisheng had been a serious and steady young man. When he brought Chen Man, who was still very young at the time, to visit the Xie family's home, every other phrase out of the elder brother's mouth seemed to be "thank you" or "sorry for the trouble."
Even the last message he sent to his colleagues before he was murdered was, "Something's come up today. I'll probably be late. Sorry for the trouble."
Xie Qingcheng looked at the pitch-black headstone and said, "Your little brother has also become a police officer capable of handling cases all by himself now."
Chen Man hurriedly added, "I'll be even more awesome in the future! I want to be transferred to the Criminal Investigation Department."
Xie Qingcheng shook his head. "Your IQ is too low."
Chen Man couldn't muster a response to this.
"Unfortunately for you, your brother got all the intelligence."
Chen Man knew that Xie Qingcheng didn't want him to climb up the ladder. The higher he climbed, the stronger the headwinds—one misstep and he would be blown down and fall to a grisly death. So, in his own way of caring, Xie Qingcheng always discouraged him like this.
Chen Man didn't get angry. Instead, he muttered a few more words under his breath to his older brother, lit a cigarette, and set it down in front of his brother's offering stand.
He closed his eyes and spoke with his palms pressed together, "Ge, one day I'll solve that unfinished case of yours."
Silence fell between them. Xie Qingcheng knew that Chen Man was referring to the case of his parents' murders.
The case was a frustrating one. Anyone with a discerning eye could tell that it was no ordinary car accident that had killed Xie Qingcheng's parents. Likewise, everyone at the police department had their suspicions. But even so, what could be done? Xie Qingcheng's mom and dad didn't die in the course of an investigation, so they couldn't be posthumously honored as fallen heroes.
Additionally, the person who had orchestrated the crash left no indication of foul play. To complicate matters further, there were too many suspects who might have held a grudge against his parents as they had both once been high-ranking members of the force and were involved in countless major criminal cases. Crime syndicates and drug-trafficking organizations alike could've been involved. In the end, all the evidence indicated an accident involving a large, out-of-control vehicle was to blame, and the police could only wrap up the case accordingly. It was absolutely impossible to open an investigation on a cold case like this.
Xie Qingcheng had done his utmost to seek answers regarding his parents' death himself, but he'd given up eventually. It was still a struggle for someone who was so coolheaded to gaze toward the path to the future, even when their tears had yet to dry and their heart had already died.
Xie Qingcheng finished arranging the incense. Seeing as Chen Man still needed a little more time, he went ahead and began to wander around.
His parents' graves weren't in this cemetery. A plot in this place was very expensive; the price of some graves that included a mausoleum could easily get you a house in a second-tier city with change to spare. The annual maintenance fee alone was also shockingly high. Only the wealthy and influential could afford to be laid to rest here.
As Xie Qingcheng strolled through the graves, he found himself standing before a statue.
Tomb effigies were a type of funereal practice modeled after the European style in which a life-sized figure of the deceased was typically carved out of marble and placed over the tombstone. This particular statue standing in the quiet cemetery was one of a doctor wearing a white coat. He had thick-rimmed glasses and sat on a chair looking at the book in his hands.
Beneath the statue was the inscription:
Qin Ciyan (1957–2017)
In the end, the only thing he couldn't cure was human nature.
Xie Qingcheng knew Qin Ciyan.
The two of them used to be colleagues.
Qin Ciyan was a famous alumnus of Huzhou Medical School and an awe-inspiring figure in the field of neurosurgery. He graduated several decades ago, went to the United States to pursue additional training, and returned upon the completion of his studies. He was once a professor at his alma mater, where he led a research team. Half a lifetime of efforts culminated in him accomplishing more than most could in an entire lifetime; there was no doubt that he'd already attained success and recognition, and absolutely could have enjoyed a leisurely life sitting with a warm cup of tea below the glow of a lamp in his later years, but Mr. Qin chose to remain on the front lines.
It was impossible for a surgeon to give up the scalpel for the pen.
So, when Professor Qin retired from Yanzhou at age sixty, he returned to his hometown and rejoined the workforce at Huzhou First People's Hospital. It was there that he and Xie Qingcheng became colleagues.
However, one evening four years ago, when sixty-year-old Qin Ciyan was in his office packing his bag and preparing to go home to celebrate his wife's birthday, a young man with scraggly facial hair holding a fruit basket and a silk banner suddenly appeared in the doorway. The man said he was the family member of a patient and that he'd come all the way to the hospital just to thank Director Qin personally for the gift of life he'd bestowed upon his mother.
Qin Ciyan had many such patients. Seeing as the man was covered in sweat and his complexion was pale, Doctor Qin deduced that he must have spent a long time on the road and invited the man into his office for a cup of tea.
But no one could have anticipated that, just as the old doctor bent his head to pour water to steep the tea, this timid-looking young man would silently rise to his feet and pull out a sharp knife from the bottom of the fruit basket, its steel blade gleaming in the cold light. In the time it took Qin Ciyan to finish preparing the tea and turn back with a smile, the man's expression had completely changed. His eyes bulged out hideously, and, with a loud yell, he committed a brutal murder.
This was the Yi Beihai medical murder case that shocked the nation four years ago.
According to the surveillance footage that the police collected afterward, the criminal Yi Beihai had pinned the elderly doctor, Qin Ciyan, against the wall and stabbed him in the chest and abdomen thirteen times. Fresh blood sprayed all over the relatively small office. From the handwritten patient files on the desk to the silk banner the murderer had brought as a cover, everything was painted a hair-raising crimson.
When those who heard the commotion came running into the office, Yi Beihai was already covered in so much blood that it was difficult to discern whether he was human or demon. Before everyone and their shocked cries, he lifted the body of the old man who'd dedicated his entire life to the medical profession into the air and hurled him out the window.
Thrown from such a height, the mangled corpse completely smashed to a pulp as it hit the ground with a great thud.
Seeing his work, Yi Beihai retracted his head from the window and stood gleefully in the pool of blood as he held the dripping, glinting knife. He tilted a smile toward the skies and shouted, "Payback! For cheating others of their money! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
But what caused this bloody, deep-seated hatred?
What exactly led the young family member of a patient to do such an inhumane thing to an old doctor graying at the temples?
The findings that the police reported after their investigation infuriated all levels of society, and public opinion boiled over like hot oil.
It was revealed that Yi Beihai's mother was a brain cancer patient with a glioma. The tumor was malignant, and its location within the brain was precarious. Despite having visited a number of hospitals, there wasn't a single doctor who was willing to operate on her.
The single mother was afraid that seeing a doctor would be a waste of money, so she didn't want to treat it, preferring to wait for death instead. However, her son, who was already past thirty, still expected to be waited on hand and foot and lazed around all day without looking for a job. Fearing that no one would look after her incompetent son once she kicked the bucket, she didn't dare die yet.
Her condition continued to deteriorate as she waffled on what to do. In the end, she heard that the Department of Neurology at Huzhou First Hospital was very famous and that the doctors there had a strong sense of medical ethics. On top of having the best surgical skills, some Buddha-hearted members of staff even went so far as to help find ways to raise money for impoverished patients or reduce the medical fees out of pity.
With her heart full of hope, the mother carried a burlap sack packed with local seafood specialties from her hometown and got on the green train that took her to this unfamiliar metropolis.
But after she arrived, she was left utterly disoriented by the city, with its thousands of layered buildings and tens of thousands of terraced streets. It took this woman, who didn't even know how to make electronic payments, an eternity to find the hospital. Though she eventually managed to find her way, she didn't know how to register for an appointment. With her timid nature, she ended up standing in the bustling hospital lobby for an entire day.
At the end of the workday, a doctor finally noticed this woman emanating a pungent, fishy odor.
The doctor inquired as to the purpose of her visit and asked for her information. He even gave her his phone number and told the woman that he'd help her think of a solution.
Following this meeting, the woman's thick stack of medical files was handed over to the Department of Neurosurgery at Huzhou First Hospital. No one knew what was discussed behind closed doors, but in the end, the mother did indeed receive the discount she had hoped for and her surgery was scheduled. With her heart filled with gratitude, she began to wait for the dawn of her new life.
Meanwhile, her gambling addict of a son remained in their faraway hometown without accompanying his mother for even a single day.
The surgery fee was reduced, but in an opulent place like Huzhou, where the ground was paved with pearls, and gold was hardly better than iron, the living expenses were still immense for this mother. She lived frugally in a tiny hotel room stuffed with eight beds and smelled of damp mold. For food, she would split a single Gaozhuang steamed bun into three meals and drink hot water from a charity booth.
At the end of the month, the woman's battered old cell phone rang. The caller was her son, and the contents of the call were wholly predictable—he wanted money.
"I'm in Huzhou for treatment and have to spend money on a lot of different things. I really don't have anything left over this month…"
"What?!" The young man on the other end of the line immediately erupted in fury, his shout nearly puncturing the sickly old woman's eardrums. "No money?! Then what am I gonna do this month? Who's gonna take care of me? I don't care! You have to come up with something! I don't even have any fucking food to eat!"
The woman stooped down and clutched the scratched-up cell phone between her hands. She stammered as though she had done something wrong. "I really don't have any more money. When I first got here, I didn't know my way around and had to spend money on some bus rides. But now that I remember the way, I can walk. My medical fees have also been reduced… I'll save up some more so that next month I'll definitely have money… Don't worry…"
"Who told you to get treated in Huzhou?" the man continued shouting furiously. "I already told you! That place is only good for scamming rich idiots with too much money on their hands! What are you doing joining in on the action? Isn't there more than enough for you to see in our county? You eat and drink to your heart's content all day long. What serious illness could you possibly have?! What a waste of money!"
As the woman listened, large teardrops rolled down from the spidering creases at the corners of her eyes and fell onto the greasy concrete floor of the tiny hotel.
Meanwhile, her son raged on. "Why are you so eager to pay those doctors, huh? Don't you know that they're only after your money? Every day, they make a fortune off people's lives, hoping that dumbasses like you will fall ill so that you'll line up to give them money! How else would they be able to keep their hospitals open? And now that you've gone and let them rob you blind, you can't even take care of your own child!" he spat contemptuously.
After cursing her out, Yi Beihai slammed down the phone, unwilling to continue wasting words on the woman. He angrily threw on his clothes, dug out the last fifty yuan he had from under his bed, and headed for the illegal gambling den by the entrance of the village.
For a moment, in her overwhelming grief, the woman no longer wanted to seek treatment. Ultimately, it was the doctors at the hospital who consoled her and reached out to Yi Beihai.
In the end, Yi Beihai impatiently agreed that so long as they didn't try to take his money, she could get the surgery if she wanted to. He didn't want to waste time and energy rushing over to Huzhou either, so he verified the operational risks over the phone and left behind a voice recording stating that, when the time came, his mother could just sign the medical consent forms herself.
The process went somewhat against standards, but in spite of objections from within the hospital itself and out of respect for Qin Ciyan's prestige, the entire procedure was nevertheless carried out as planned. Hospitalization, rehabilitation, preoperative briefing… Everything was methodically arranged and systematically executed.
The day of the operation finally arrived, and the doctors once again reviewed the risks of the surgical procedure with that solitary woman, informing her that the location of the tumor was extremely dangerous. If she did not go through with the procedure, she would likely only be able to live for another three months, but the operation also came with grave risk—in the event that the surgery failed, she could die on the operating table.
"Then…then, I'd like to make another phone call, if that's okay?" the woman lying on the hospital bed asked somewhat timidly.
The cell phone was passed over, and the woman dialed a number with shaking hands, hoping to speak a few more words with her son before she stepped into the gate between life and death.
But after waiting through the endless trill of the ringing on the other end, the only response she received was the same ice-cold automated voice of the pre-recorded answering machine she'd heard the day before.
Yi Beihai was a gambling addict. He lost all sense of reason the moment he placed his first bet; there was no way he would find the time to answer calls from his elderly mother.
In the end, the woman slowly set down the phone, her eyes wet. Sniffling, she smiled. "Thank you, Doctor. Um…"
"What is it?"
The woman hesitated slightly, visibly conflicted as though too ashamed to ask.
The young doctor responsible for conducting the preoperative procedures said gently, "Auntie, you can say whatever you want. It'll be all right."
The woman's voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Will it hurt?"
"Mm?"
"The surgery, will it hurt?" the woman asked, feeling her face grow warm as a light flush of shame struggled to surface from beneath the waxy yellow pallor of her skin.
"Oh." Realization dawned on the young doctor, and he soothed her with a smile. "It won't hurt, Auntie. We'll be using anesthesia—it's a medicine that will make you fall asleep for a short while. It won't hurt at all. When you wake up, it'll all be over."
Hearing the young doctor's gentle assurance, something akin to yearning spilled into the woman's eyes.
So, it won't hurt at all…
As she was being wheeled into the operating room, she looked up at the pristine white ceiling of the hospital corridor, and at the doctors and nurses around her, scrubbed up and ready to do their best. In her mind, she was still thinking of those final words she had heard as her shrunken lips curved into a faint, slightly humble smile.
The surgeon in charge of the operation was Qin Ciyan. Qin Ciyan was getting on in years, and he had already performed three major surgical procedures that day, so he was not in his best condition. However, he was the only one who could be trusted to perform such a difficult operation.
The minutes and seconds ticked by as sweat gradually soaked through the elderly doctor's protective green scrubs.
"Forceps."
"Gauze."
"Hand me two more pieces of gauze."
Calm and steady.
His muscles were tense, and his eyes did not blink once during the most crucial moments.
The first to realize that something was off was the assistant surgeon. When he took the surgical tray from Qin Ciyan, he noticed that the doctor's body was swaying slightly.
Doctors are doctors, but sometimes, doctors are patients as well.
The moment the assistant surgeon glanced nervously at Qin Ciyan, Qin Ciyan also realized that he couldn't continue any further. He slowly and carefully completed the step that he was in the middle of. Then, in a composed voice that wouldn't alarm the others, he said, "My vision is blurred, and I'm experiencing some dizziness."
As he spoke, he backed up a few steps. He was about to say something else when his world went black and he collapsed…
This was the first time such a thing had happened to Qin Ciyan. He had high cholesterol and suffered from severe internal jugular vein thrombosis. Due to his condition, he often experienced nausea and headaches, but it had never become so severe as to induce dizziness or fainting.
Although such accidents rarely happened in a hospital, it wasn't unheard of. During residency, doctors were taught how to finish an operation smoothly with the remaining doctors should an unexpected situation arise. But the location of the woman's tumor was too risky. Even though the other doctors tried their best, the operation still ended in failure.
The mother was gone.
All of a sudden, the son became very filial; he couldn't afford to be unfilial, since he had eagerly waited for the measly allowance that his mother provided him every month. What's more, when she passed away, his housekeeper, cook, and servant…all disappeared. Yi Beihai felt as though he had plummeted into hell; there was no way he could accept it.
After some rumination, he eventually concluded that it was the doctors' fault.
They must have tricked his mother into having surgery and staying in the hospital because they were after the last bit of her money.
Assistance? Reduced fees?
How could such a golden goose just fall from the sky? They must have thought that they hadn't squeezed enough money out of her and that this old bag of bones could be used as a free specimen in medical experiments. Those scammers must've tricked his poor mother, lost and alone in an unfamiliar place, into wrongfully dying under the knife.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced Yi Beihai became. He lay on his bed in the deep, dark night as the strange hooting of owls outside in the tiny village began to resemble laughter, swarming in his head until it became a whirlpool of hate that dragged him down into its depths.
The next day, the economically impoverished and culturally backward Yi Beihai, who owed money to anyone and everyone, scrounged up a rusty butcher knife at home, ground it on a whetstone until it shone, and wrapped it in a thick, dirty towel.
Then, he went to the small shop at the village entrance and threatened the shopkeeper into handing over all his cash before setting off for Huzhou.
A few days later, the news of the Yi Beihai medical murder incident exploded across the country like a clap of thunder, striking the heart of the public.
The news and social media platforms brimmed with shock at the incident, resentment toward the criminal, and reminiscence for Qin Ciyan. But gradually, some slippery snakes and venomous scorpions began to emerge from their nests in the middle of this chaos.
"Was Qin Ciyan really as kind and compassionate as he seemed?"
"It's true that the death of Yi Beihai's mother is quite suspicious."
"Yi Beihai deserves sympathy. He and his mother lived in such poverty, never knowing where their next meal would come from, so it's normal for such a child's mind to become twisted…"
Thanks to certain official and verified WeChat and Weibo accounts, these sensational articles and arguments began to circulate. To gain attention, many people began to doubt Qin Ciyan—from his academic papers to his moral character. Some even believed that he should have retired if he was getting on in years—after all, there was no need to selfishly cling to his position and authority only to bring harm to both others and himself.
Moreover, they began to find ways to dig up information about Qin Ciyan and his family. They questioned why his daughter married a foreigner and moved abroad—because what was so good about a foreigner? Wasn't that the same as providing for a traitor with the motherland's money?
They asked why Qin Ciyan's wife married him when she was more than ten years younger than him, concluding that it was definitely because she was after his wealth. Maybe she wasn't even his lawfully wedded wife!
"Everyone, dig a little harder; maybe we'll find out that she was actually a mistress who displaced the rightful spouse!"
The victim's personal affairs became an intoxicating drug for this audience, blocking their ability to smell the yet-undissipated blood in the hospital and allowing them to willfully sink into a revelry as they tore down the walls of privacy and abandoned their conscience.
There was also another verified Weibo user who unearthed a documentary from the depths of the Internet. It dated back more than a decade and covered Qin Ciyan's trip to the front lines of a certain disaster relief effort to treat the wounded.
That account knew how to create a commotion without being punished. They expertly clipped a part out of context that showed Qin Ciyan and his colleagues sitting in an ambulance and presented it without comment. A young doctor, who felt bad seeing how bone-weary and desperately thirsty his mentor was, handed Qin Ciyan a bottle of dextrose solution.
Some of the comments read:
"I'm not trying to disrespect Qin-laoshi's goodwill, but I have to ask—aren't supplies extremely limited in these disaster areas? There definitely aren't enough supplies to go around for the patients, but he took such a huge sip… Did he even think about the dying patients on the hospital beds?"
"Did he pay for that dextrose solution…?"
"Professionals have a lot of power. Look, he can waive an operation fee at will, so there's no way he'd pay for the dextrose solution. I know someone on staff at Huzhou First Hospital—they said the professionals are all corrupt. Surgery fees are no less than five figures, so if you see them including a discount, it just means that they'll sometimes use those patients for risky experimental procedures. Otherwise, how else would they hone their medical skills?"
But the most shocking and disappointing of all was the rationalization of Yi Beihai's actions.
When the results of the investigation were publicly announced, it was revealed that Yi Beihai was a patient with transient psychotic disorder.
According to Article 18 of the Criminal Law, "If a mental patient causes harmful consequences at a time when he is unable to recognize or control his own conduct, upon verification and confirmation through legal procedure, he shall not bear criminal responsibility…"
However, evidence collected in the investigation ultimately demonstrated that Yi Beihai was mentally sound when he killed Qin Ciyan, that he hadn't lost control of himself at all. Consequently, Yi Beihai was still sentenced to death. However, many doctors and nurses felt immeasurably resentful and hurt due to how the dispute was dragged out, as well as some of the baffling opinions expressed by the general public at the time.
Even now, there were still those who remained fixated on these incidents and commented on them…
With the events of the past on his mind, Xie Qingcheng gazed at the gravestone with a blank expression for some time before walking up to it.
"Xie Qingcheng?"
The sound of approaching footsteps accompanied by a woman's astonished voice suddenly came from behind him. "Why…are you here?"