Fang Mu angrily hung up the phone.
Tai Wei was baffled. "What's wrong with this kid?" he mused, looking at his cell phone. His good intentions had been taken for malice, and now he felt more than a little angry himself.
Fang Mu kept his head down on the way to his dorm. Doing his best to remain inconspicuous, he took the long way back, walking along the campus wall.
The assembly had ended by now. All around him packs of students were rushing to the dining hall or back to their dorms. They shot him curious looks when they recognized him. Staring at his shoes, Fang Mu hurried back to Room 313.
It seemed like an inordinately long walk, but he finally reached his dorm room. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, only to be confronted by a room full of people.
They seemed to have been in the midst of an intense discussion, but as soon as they saw him, they went silent. Seconds later, however, they all crowded around him and began asking a million questions at once.
"Fang Mu, was what the provost said true?"
"What did the guy look like?"
"I heard he even sucked their blood; is that true?"
"Did the public security bureau give you a cash reward?"
Pushing them forcefully aside, Fang Mu walked over to his desk. Then he turned back, his gaze sweeping across the hopeful faces of the crowd. When he spoke, his voice was suddenly cold. "Get out."
When some of them still seemed about to say something, he roared, "Get out!"
Everyone leaped in surprise. Dissatisfied, some of them began to grumble.
"What's the big deal?" one mumbled. "All you did was crack the case, right?"
Fang Mu turned away from them and sat at his desk. He did not look back.
The crowd stood there awkwardly until Du Yu quietly ushered them out. "He's not feeling so well today," he said. "You guys had better go."
At last Fang Mu and Du Yu were the only people left in the room. Fang Mu took out a cigarette, lit it shakily, and took several deep drags. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, exhausted.
Du Yu cautiously watched Fang Mu’s expression. After a thoughtful moment, he spoke. "That provost is too much, making you go onstage like that and say something. No matter what, he should have at least given you time to prepare. Doing it cold is just too awkward."
"Thanks," said Fang Mu listlessly, "but please shut up or else I'll have to leave, too."
Taken aback, Du Yu seemed about to respond. Thinking again, he said nothing more.
The phone rang. Seeing that his roommate wasn't about to move, Du Yu walked over and picked it up. After asking who was calling, he handed the phone to Fang Mu.
"It's Professor Qiao. He wants to speak to you."
Rousing himself, Fang Mu took the phone. "Hello, Professor. How are you?"
"Hi, Fang Mu. Are you busy now?" Professor Qiao's voice was as deep as ever, but today it was also very stern, with none of the warmth Fang Mu had come to expect.
"No, I'm not busy."
"Good. Then please come over to my house." Before Fang Mu could respond, Professor Qiao had already hung up the phone.
Professor Qiao Yunping sat in his living room smoking one cigarette after another. Before long he began feeling a tightness in his chest, so he stood up, walked over to his French window, and looked off into the distance. Dark clouds filled the gray sky. It was not a sight to make one feel at ease. Looking down, he saw Fang Mu haggling with the boss of the fruit stand just outside his building.
The youth’s face was dripping with sweat. It looked like he had run the whole way. After bargaining a little longer, he bought a bunch of bananas, two pineapples, as well as several peaches and mangosteens.
Seeing the anxious look on Fang Mu's face, Qiao Yunping's anger began to subside.
Of all of his students, Fang Mu was his favorite. Qiao Yunping still remembered how Fang Mu's scores on the general Graduate Entrance Exam had been mediocre, but when he came in for the oral examination at the beginning of school, his performance had been genius. When Qiao Yunping asked him several questions about Western criminal history, Fang Mu responded without a hitch. Not only did his answers demonstrate a sturdy grasp of the fundamentals, but his personal opinions were unique and incisive. Qiao Yunping decided at once to be his graduate advisor. As he later found out, Fang Mu was much more hardworking than the majority of graduate students, many of whom simply idled away their time after getting into school. In addition to his required homework, Fang Mu would often comb through old cases in the judicial archives. Qiao Yunping wholeheartedly approved of this style of work, for he had always believed that when it came to criminological research, it was best to let the facts speak for themselves. Today, however, his most adored pupil had made him incredibly angry.
When the doorbell rang, Mrs. Qiao was sitting on the couch watching TV. Seeing the somber expression on her husband's face, she sighed, stood up, and answered the door.
"Oh, hello, Fang Mu. Please come in."
"Hello, Mrs. Qiao," he said politely.
"Oh my, what's all this?" she said, seeing the bags he carried. "You shouldn't have. Fang Mu, you're just too much!"
"It's nothing. Anyway, I barely paid a thing for it."
Mrs. Qiao took the two bags of fruit from Fang Mu. Then turning toward the living room, she called, "Old Qiao, Fang Mu is here to see you."
Professor Qiao continued to stare out the window, saying nothing, a cigarette in his hand. There was a hard look in his eyes.
Feeling a little awkward, Fang Mu forced himself to smile as he exchanged his shoes for slippers. Pulling lightly on Fang Mu's sleeve, Mrs. Qiao leaned in and whispered, "My husband is in a bit of a mood again today, so just humor him a little. No matter what he says to you, don't argue."
Fang Mu nodded, and then walked into the living room.
Looking away from the window, Professor Qiao glanced at Fang Mu only long enough to note his presence, and then rose and walked into the study. Fang Mu had no choice but to follow him. Once they were inside he paused for a moment, and then turned and shut the door.
Professor Qiao took a seat in a swivel chair and puffed on his cigarette. He didn't say a word. Fang Mu didn't dare take a seat, so he just stood there with his arms hanging at his sides. When Professor Qiao finished his cigarette he motioned to the chair in front of him, then he lifted his cigarette pack and offered one to Fang Mu. After cautiously sitting down, Fang Mu hesitated for a moment, but then he removed a cigarette from the pack and lit it.
As the two of them smoked in silence, the air seemed to grow heavy. At last it was Professor Qiao who was first to speak.
"Is what Provost Qi said this afternoon true?"
Fang Mu felt his heart skip a beat, although he had already guessed on his way over that this was why Professor Qiao wanted to speak to him. Of course, the events of the day had made Fang Mu plenty angry himself; Tai Wei giving his name to Xu Jie's family without permission, Provost Qi calling him onstage to speak in front of the whole school. In all fairness, he realized that helping the Public Security Bureau solve a case was nothing to be ashamed of; still, he didn't want to become famous for it. In other words, the real reason Fang Mu was so furious had everything to do with his own personality. But as to why Professor Qiao should be so upset about it, Fang Mu had no idea.
"Um, so, about that…" Fang Mu didn't quite know how to respond.
"Just be straight with me!" said Professor Qiao, his voice rattling the apartment. "Is it true or not?"
"It's true."
"So then tell me, what exactly happened?"
Having no other option, Fang Mu related the details of the Ma Kai case to Professor Qiao, from beginning to end.