Chapter 312: The Seeds of Hatred (1/2)

The young man was the murderer we were looking for–Long Buhui. ”Call an ambulance,” I instructed Xiaotao.

”Who said you could give that command earlier?!” shouted Zhang Jiulin as he grabbed my shirt.

”I was afraid you’d get hurt,” I answered.

“Well thank you then,” Zhang Jiulin helplessly sighed and loosened his hold on my shirt.

The Heartbroken Xun had been successfully subdued. I explained everything to Director-General Cheng, taking quite some time to reason with him before he agreed to hand over the Heartbroken Xun to Zhang Jiulin.

Exhausted, I couldn’t wait to change out of these robes. Xiaotao hugged my arm, unlocked her cell phone and said, ”Smile!”

After our selfie, Xiaotao insisted she would treasure the photo, though we soon discovered my face looked blurry in it. Strangely, there was a middle-aged man’s face hidden at the top of the photo, his features greatly resembling mine.

It was a long time afterwards before I knew that the man in the picture matched the face of my forefather, Deputy Minister of Justice Song Ci.

Long Buhui was sent to the hospital for emergency surgery. Early the next morning, Zhang Jiulin left for home. Xiaotao and I gave him a lift to the train station. When we parted, he invited me to visit Wuhan if the opportunity arose.

Now that the case was closed, the thing I wanted to do most was to have a romantic date with Xiaotao. Unfortunately, our circumstances didn’t allow that. Xiaotao still had much to deal with, including the memorial service for the officers lost in the line of duty and reports to write.

There was no mention of Zhang Jiulin in the case files due to the abnormality of the whole incident. I endeavored to rationalize these events and make them sound as scientific as possible.

Three days later, Xiaotao informed me that Long Buhui had regained consciousness, though his body was greatly weakened. The interrogation had to be conducted in the hospital.

When we arrived in his ward, Long Buhui was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Xiaotao exchanged a knowing look with the officers on duty, indicating for them to leave. We shut the door and moved the chairs beside Long Buhui’s bed.

”Let's talk,” I began. “How did you obtain the Heartbroken Xun and why did you target those officers?”

Long Buhui maintained his silence for a few seconds before he asked, ”Will I end up like my brother?”

”No,” I refuted. “You killed so many innocents. You’ll be sentenced the death penalty!”

He was a smart man indeed. In truth, before we headed to the hospital, the judicial department and the public security bureau had studied the case all night. On what charges would Long Buhui be prosecuted? In the end, they reached the consensus to prosecute Long Buhui for intentional homicide. The Heartbroken Xun was a tool, no different from a knife and a gun. As the perpetrator, Long Buhui must assume legal responsibility.

”The law is more versatile than you imagine,” I said. “You can't get away with it. Since you don't think playing a musical instrument is committing murder, I can play it for you!”

Long Buhui’s disquietude proved he was afraid of death. He struggled so hard he almost knocked over the infusion stand. We had a hard time stabilizing him before he said, ”You’re an officer. How can you do such a thing?”

”Sorry to disappoint you,” I chuckled. “I’m not actually one! I’m just a criminal consultant.”

”So you’re here to question me?” The veil of relief that swept across his face betrayed his emotions.

”I just want to know why a promising young man such as yourself degenerated into a murderer.”

“Promising young man?” he mocked. “My life was ruined the day you framed my brother.”