Love Me if You Dare: Pristine Darkness

“Three, this case’s greatest point of doubt in terms of criminal psychology,” Bo Jinyan said, his pace of speech suddenly quickening. “The victim, Nie Shijun, ran to the park entrance at 22:05 hrs, and reached the scene of the crime at approximately 22:20 to 22:25 hours. According to your investigation, the park is enclosed by high walls, and there is no way to enter or leave apart from the entrances. The night the murder took place, the park closed at 23:00 hours. The cleaners found the body the next morning before the park opened, and reported it to the police. Thereafter, the park was sealed off. After this, when the police searched the park, no suspicious characters were found. All this goes to say, the previous night, the killer must have left with the crowd before the park closed at 23:00 hours. To run from the scene of the crime to the park entrance takes 15 – 20 minutes. In other words, the killer only had 15 – 20 minutes to complete the entire process of killing the victim. If the killer is really a ‘butterfly killer’, a psychopath, this period of time would be too short for him, too rushed.”

By the looks on the criminal investigators faces, they clearly did not understand his point. One of them said, “15 minutes to kill someone, draw, then clean up the scene. That’s still possible if the killer worked quickly.”

Jian Yao was shaken by his words. Indeed, she had previously thought that the butterfly painted by the killer had been too soft and simple, which was somewhat peculiar. Now that Bo Jinyan had spoken, she suddenly had an epiphany. The rush was not to kill someone, but to . . .

Bo Jinyan smiled faintly, and said, “The rush was not to kill someone. It was to gain experience. For a psychopath, who is still a novice, it would be very difficult for him to kill his carefully selected target, then have to leave immediately after completing the painting of the dreamed-of butterfly, without being able to appreciate, observe or enjoy the moment . . . to him, it would be like having a big meal set in front of him while being unable to have a sniff or a taste. It would be very difficult to bear.”

Bo Jinyan’s expression turned cold. “So, my conclusion is that, either he is not a psychopathic killer at all, and this was just his way of distracting the police, and he committed the murder for some other, specific reason; or, it was really because this is his first murder and he lacks experience, and thus he did not receive any satisfaction at all. Then, he will carry out his second crime very soon. Whichever way it is, his carefully selected target, Nie Shijun, will be where we make a breakthrough. Nie Shijun was introverted and rarely interacted with others. The killer must have a reason for murdering her. We can even infer that they had been in direct contact previously.”

——

It was almost midnight by the time Bo Jinyan and An Yan returned to the villa.

In a departure from his regular inclination, the minute Bo Jinyan reached the villa, he shut himself in his room and even locked the door.

An Yan rummaged through the refrigerator for a long time, filled his stomach with random items, then ran to stand in front of Bo Jinyan’s door to say, “Hey!”

There was no response throughout the house.

“What did she say to you later?” An Yan asked. “Didn’t the two of you reconcile?”

“She didn’t say a word to me,” replied Bo Jinyan in a serene tone, as still as water.

“Why?” asked An Yan. When the meeting concluded, everyone had left the room in tacit understanding, leaving the two of them sitting across from each other at the table. He had waited downstairs in the car for a long time before Bo Jinyan came down. He had even thought they would resolve their differences with reconciliation sex*.

*T/N 床头打架床尾和了 (chuang tou da jia chuang wei he le) – literally, to quarrel with each other at the head of the bed (or when getting into bed) and compromise/ reconcile at the end of it (or before falling asleep).

However, on thinking about it, this situation was more serious than a minor dispute.

Bo Jinyan had a moment of silence as he contemplated An Yan’s question.

Right then, the lights in the house were all turned off — it goes without saying that it made no difference to him whether the lights were on or off. All the curtains were pulled shut. Only a small window was left open for ventilation. Bo Jinyan lay in bed, feeling as if the entire world was keeping vigil with him.

He recalled the situation after the meeting that day.

He sat without moving where he was. He heard the people around him leaving.

Later, he felt the light around him turn dark, and the absence of movement around him. That’s when he realised that she had also left.

After such an unexpected and tender reunion, she had left without saying a word to him.

Bo Jinyan experienced a faint ache in his chest.

……

“I don’t know,” Bo Jinyan replied.

When An Yan, who was squatting outside the door, heard his reply, he considered the situation carefully before saying, “Is it because she . . . hasn’t forgiven you, yet?”

His only reply was Bo Jinyan’s silence.

An Yan sensed that he had hit the nail on the head. Sighing, he muttered, “I thought a woman like Jian Yao would never get angry. Nothing at all like Fangfang, who is so difficult to keep happy . . . then, what do you intend to do?”

“None of your business,” Bo Jinyan answered.

An Yan let out a soft ‘cheh’, but the words still hurt. He asked, “Do you want to come out and eat something? Didn’t we make time this afternoon to buy a big fish from the supermarket? It might not be fresh if we eat it tomorrow.”

He waited for quite a while, but there was still no movement. An Yan got up and started to walk away, but, through the door, he seemed to hear him say, “How can the fish be compared with her?”

These words were indeed a little idiotic, but being heard by a fellow idiot, they were instantaneously moving.

An Yan stood still for a heartbeat before sighing and asking, “Yes, that’s true, how can even better-tasting food compare with her? I understand.”

An Yan returned to his room, and all was quiet once again in front of Bo Jinyan’s door.

Bo Jinyan wrung out a hot, wet towel, placed it over his eyes and shut them. He kept replaying every word she had said that day, and imagining her expressions and movements.

His eyes were so hot.

Jian Yao, I’m sorry.

Jian Yao, I’ve been gone too long.

We are separated by a river of blood.

Even though I’m blind, I will still crawl over it. 

——

At the same time, Fang Qing and Jian Yao had chosen a more direct method to vent their emotions from the events that evening.

They had found a place to drink at below the police station. It was one of the small roast meat stalls dotted throughout the city.

Neither of them said very much. Despite having downed a considerable number of glasses, both their eyes were still shining brightly in the night due to their remarkable capacity for alcohol.

Fang Qing lowered his cigarette butt and asked, “Why did you just leave without saying anything to him?”

Jian Yao looked up and gazed at the night sky of the city, seemingly similar to that of her hometown, yet essentially different. Vaguely, she felt herself to be once again with two or three of her good friends on a night so many years ago, chatting as they ate roast meat and drank beer at a street stall. However, later on, she had chosen a road very different from the one an ordinary person would take and she had chosen a man who was one of a kind.

After that, a body full of scars, a heart full of comfort.

A fullness of joy, a fullness of pain.

“Lao Fang, do you know why Jinyan wanted to leave?”

Fang Qing did not reply. People interpreted Bo Jinyan’s departure in many ways. However, he knew that Jian Yao had her own take on the matter.

Jian Yao raised her hand and took a sip of her drink, then said, “Do you know about the ‘Flower Cannibal’ case? I almost died then, and also suffered much torture. Jinyan damaged his throat and faced the risk of utterly sullying his reputation to rescue me. One could say that he almost gave up his whole world for me.”

“Uhm.”

“Losing me may cause Jinyan to go crazy. But, I think, if he loses Fu Ziyu, he will go silent.”

Fang Qing did not say anything.

“And if he were also to lose his eyes? If he loses the eyes which can see right through facades to the sin and evil beneath, what would his convictions rest on? In truth, Jinyan has already managed very well; he has not sunken into a black pit, neither has he degenerated. He is just someone who has been far apart from us for a period of time, but the eyes of his innermost being are still taking in everything. Lao Fang, today . . . I’m actually very happy. Seeing him after a year, he has recovered so well, almost as he was before.”

Out of the blue, Fang Qing smiled. “Since you say so . . I don’t have the heart to beat him up any more.”

Jian Yao smiled as well, but her smile was very slight. They toasted each other, then looked up in one accord to gaze at the city’s boundless night sky.

It was impossible to catch all the criminals, and evil always lurked on the fringes of the darkness, extending its reach. In this city, disciples of perversity were also fleeing in disorder. However, why did her heart feel so warm?

“You asked me why I didn’t say anything to him,” Jian Yao said softly. “I was afraid he wasn’t ready yet. I am waiting for him to come to me.”

——

In the desolate stillness of night, someone is searching, someone is waiting, and someone is desperately hiding.

In a darkened room among the city’s high-rise buildings, the television endlessly broadcasts news on the ‘Butterfly Killer Case’. He shut himself in the bathroom and listened to the shivering of the water while burying his face in his hands.

Rotten, rotten! Everything is rotten!

The person he killed, the person he loves. And himself.

Abruptly, he lowered his hands. It was as if he had suddenly awoken from a particularly long and vague dream to discover what he had done.

He looked out of the window, at the cracks in the buildings, at what was hidden behind the darkened windows.

There was a pair of eyes there. Black compound eyes, like a death’s head.

Those are butterfly’s eyes, looking straight at him!

Kill, it says. Isn’t that what we want to do?