Love Me if You Dare: Pristine Darkness

Jian Yao’s gaze was as clear as water.

Bo Jinyan continued, “Although all that he did stemmed from his psychopathic personality, his role-playing personality, his stubborn disposition  . . deep in his heart, he directed the masked killer case, as well as Han Yumeng’s revenge case. There must be some reason prompting him to do this. Tell me, what is he looking for?”

Jian Yao stared blankly without saying anything.

In her mind, all manner of details about these two cases started to appear . . .

A grieving man who avenges his dead wife;

Kidnapped girls who had all been separated from their loved ones;

He brought only Han Yumeng with him when he went out to sea, but he never killed her, he kept her constantly by his side, drifting for several years . . .

Han Yumeng returned to hurt the man whom she had once loved the most;

Fu Ziyu and Han Yumeng were killed together;

The masked killer was hiding in the dark and sniggering;

. . . . . .

She was trembling violently, and she even remembered that night in the warehouse. Bo Jinyan had lost his footing and plummeted, while she hung in the air, crying, and fainted away.

. . . . .

“Love,” Jian Yao pronounced slowly and emphatically. “Has he really been using these past few years, all that blood, to search for love?” This thought had arisen unbidden in her mind, despite the logic of her deduction being unclear.

Bo Jinyan did not mock her in the slightest, but simply smiled slowly. “Yeah. What he’s looking for is an earth-shattering love. He is fascinated by it because he has never possessed it, because his heart has always been lonely. Thus, he is deeply fascinated.”

“However,” Bo Jinyan said, as the thread of the conversation took a sharp turn, “why his heart is so lonely, why he so desperately wants to experience affection, as if by so doing he can find himself, how all this caused his sense of self-abasement and arrogance – this is something we cannot discern at the moment. Only by truly entering the heart of this individual can we uncover his secrets.”

Jian Yao was overwhelmed by emotion and had no way to verbally express what she was currently feeling. The faces of those few people floated in her mind, but which one was their target? That evil, ruthless, timid, psychologically abnormal man?

“Where we are concerned, our opportunity is . . .” Bo Jinyan continued, “we came here due to an entirely unexpected turn of events. Even the masked killer was unprepared for us. Therefore, he has had no time to hide, and must continue to show us his true, unconcealed self. Then, in this game featuring Buddha’s Hand as the playing field, we will see who wins the first chip.”

Jian Yao nodded forcefully.

The two of them fell silent for a while. The river water slowly glided against the pebbles by their feet, then retreated. Just like this deep, quiet night, with its surging, dark undercurrent.

“As for that police officer, even though we know little about him, we can still tangentially make some bold inferences.” Bo Jinyan went on to say, “Firstly, he was specially selected by Zhu Tao. Let’s first analyse what kind of person Zhu Tao is: possessing a deadly hatred for evil, with a steadfast will, bold yet cautious. He has battled criminals in the southwest for more than ten years and has achieved impressive victories. The steadfastness of his will is more than that of an ordinary person’s, and he is more capable than most. So, what kind of young policeman would he have selected some years ago to infiltrate Buddha’s Hand?”

After a moment’s contemplation, Jian Yao replied, “That person has to be extremely outstanding, intelligent, decisive, and cautious. This is the only way he can distinguish himself in Buddha’s Hand, as well as continually protect himself. His willpower must be more than superhuman, his ability to endure patiently must be exceptional, and his sense of justice and righteousness must be great. Then only would Zhu Tao dare to put him in this position.”

Bo Jinyan nodded. “For him to be able to live under Song Kun’s nose for so many years and achieve a high position, not only would he have to be astute and decisive, he would clearly have to bear immense and contradictory psychological pressure. However, he was recently able to figure out a way to get the information to Zhu Tao, which shows he hasn’t turned traitor and still regards himself as a police officer, worthy of our trust. But, he is not made of steel. He is under such great internal stress, in such an unsettled situation, that he must surely exhibit certain behaviours or habits whereby he is trying his best to steady himself.”

Jian Yao opened her eyes wide, thought briefly, nodded, and said, “Also, since he has not turned traitor, with regard to his way of doing things, among those few people, he would clearly try his best to avoid doing anything bad with his own hands and killing innocent people. He can be swift and decisive, but he would never be cruel and ruthless in his actions.”

“Moreover, the most important point,” Bo Jinyan smiled faintly as he said, “His powers of observation are very strong and his thinking is deep. He must already have observed us from his own perspective. That information, which will deal Buddha’s Head a heavy blow, is also a result of many years of his blood and sweat, and concerns victory or failure, as well as his life or death. He is almost Zhu Tao’s most important chess move, and Zhu Tao will do his best to ensure that he has a clear understanding of the situation*, which would make it safer for all. Before Zhu Tao agreed to give us this information, do you think he would have informed this police officer of the situation? I think it is highly likely because, at this critical moment, neither of them can afford to make any missteps. If he really knows of our existence, if he knows about Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao, then it is very likely he has already guessed our identities. Then, we have added another criterion for judgement – since our arrival in this little town, this person has not really caused trouble for us, and may even have helped us.”

*T/N 耳聪目明 (er cong mu ming) – lit. have good eyes and ears

“Then, what should we do now?” Jian Yao asked.

Bo Jinyan was momentarily silent before putting on his sunglasses, lifting his head, and smiling abruptly.

——

The next few days seemed calm.

Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao continued to stay at the inn. They played cards during the day and became more familiar with those men and the other gang members. At night, they would drink, smoke, and chit-chat, the very picture of a violent gang. Occasionally, Song Kun would assign several gang members to assist them, enabling them to get to know more of the gang. Due to their interactions in the past few days, Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao had more opportunities to observe those few people and become more familiar with them.

Although he had yet to see any fruit from their undertaking of the primary task he had set them, Song Kun was very satisfied with their method of doing things — sufficiently low-key, remaining calm and collected. Smart people.

Song Kun had even assigned them a small house to reside in, not far from the inn. The gang members had already tidied and cleaned it, so Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao moved in.

Song Kun was evidently intelligent. Jian Yao searched the whole house and found no surveillance cameras or listening devices. Thus, she felt relieved.

That night, all was serene, and the little town was especially quiet. The distant mountains looked like slumbering wild beasts. In contrast, the night sky was strewn with brilliant stars. Once in a while, they could hear the sound of men laughing and talking

This was actually the first time in many days that Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao could sleep soundly. Clean bed, soft bedding, gentle lights, with no one disturbing them. They lay on the bed, clad in cheap pyjamas they had bought at the little store. Bo Jinyan held Jian Yao’s hand. He was not wearing his sunglasses, but kept his eyes closed. His features were delicate and beautiful.

“How do you think this little town came about?” Jian Yao asked. “How did it become like this?”

“The slogans from the 1950s and 1960s are still on the walls, and the town seems to be stuck in that era, including the clothes and the living habits of the small number of residents,” Bo Jinyan said, “indicating that this place is an abandoned little corner of the world, forgotten by civilisation. Buddha’s Hand occupation of this town as their hiding place could possibly have further hindered their communication and interaction with the outside world.”

“I heard that there are about 100 to 200 natives here. The rest are all members of Buddha’s Hand, about 20 to 50 people. They control the little town’s only waterway exit, and are armed with heavy firepower. That is to say, it’s going to be highly dangerous on the day the police launch an all-out attack.”

“Yeah.”

Jian Yao leaned into his embrace. After a while, his hands moved upwards in comforting strokes. Jian Yao whispered, “Are you still in the mood?” He replied, “When the body is in action, the spirit quiets down. It will help us to relax even better.” Jian Yao could not help laughing. He had already unerringly reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. In the darkness, Jian Yao’s breathing had become ragged as his hands and mouth were extremely precise in finding various positions. Jian Yao said, “You . . .” He said, “Obviously, I have now adapted to darkness better than anyone else.” Jian Yao’s heart broke at these words, and she bent her body to welcome him completely.

. . . . .

During this period of time, Bo Jinyan also visited Wen Rong’s clinic once more to fill another prescription. Naturally, whenever they went out these days, no matter what they were doing, they always had one or two gang members following them.

Wen Rong still treated Bo Jinyan with gentleness. Sometimes, Bo Jinyan would stay at the clinic a little longer in order to chat with him, but he did not show much enthusiasm or sentiment. On the other hand, Wen Rong was candid and humorous, always reminding Jian Yao of Fu Ziyu. She did not know if Bo Jinyan felt the same way.

In the afternoon of the third day, Bo Jinyan went looking for Song Kun.

As before, in that secret office, a pot of tea, a cigar. Jian Yao sat silently at the side.

Song Kun was just lighting up when he heard Bo Jinyan’s cool and self-satisfied voice say, “Boss, I know who the police officer is.”

The hand holding the cigar stopped in mid-air.