If a person like Fang Mu wanted to choose an ordinary life, Tai Wei didn't know whether he should be happy for him or disappointed that he was wasting his talents. Take the case he was currently working on: if Fang Mu were there, Tai Wei was certain he'd never feel so stuck. But the way that Fang Mu had acted last time made him feel a little apprehensive about asking for his help. So although his advice about looking for a sexual dimension to the crime hadn't panned out, Tai Wei did not plan on consulting him again.
"If we see each other again, it means someone else has died."
Tai Wei just shook his head. That kid was a real piece of work. He truly hoped that one day the two of them could meet up for drinks when there was nothing else to worry about, and then get dead drunk together.
"Tai Wei," said Old Zhao suddenly.
"Huh?" grunted Tai Wei, quickly coming back to reality.
"You guys did a good job on that Ma Kai case," said Old Zhao, roughly smoothing his hair. "From the start, I've felt that our killer from the seven-one case is also abnormal, with some kind of mental disorder most likely, but I've been unable to figure a thing out on my own. Will you help me out with the psychological analysis?"
"Me?" asked Tai Wei, pointing at himself. "Stop kidding around. Since when have I had those kinds of skills?"
Still, Old Zhao's words made Tai Wei's heart skip a beat, because he was absolutely right. Constructing a criminal profile of Ma Kai had been hugely beneficial in cracking his case, so why not use a tactic like that again? The 7/1 double murder and the hospital heroin killing were both unusual crimes with seemingly unexplainable aspects. If psychological profiles could be made of their perpetrators, Tai Wei was confident this would greatly help to push both cases along.
"We should find an expert on psychology to help us out," said Tai Wei.
For an instant Old Zhao hesitated, clearly ill at ease. Then he tossed his half-smoked cigarette on the ground and crushed it roughly with his foot. "We'll see," he said. He glanced at his watch. "Shit, look how late it is. I'm not working overtime today. I need to head home and get some rest." He nodded to Tai Wei. Then turned and left.
Tai Wei watched Old Zhao's slightly hunched form disappear into the darkness at the end of the hallway. The guy was over 50 and had only just been promoted to deputy division chief. During this mess, the pressure had to be unimaginable.
At that moment, Fang Mu was sitting in class and spacing out, watching the same raindrops patter against the windowpane.
Rain always caused people to daydream-or at the very least, seemed to make it impossible to pay attention to what was going on in front of them.
It was Professor Song's class again. Because the professor worked as a lawyer during the day, he had no choice but to teach his graduate lessons outside of normal class hours. Dinnertime had already passed, but the professor showed no sign of finishing. Instead he just told everyone to take a short break.
Grumbling, some students braved the rain and sprinted to a nearby market to buy bread and other snacks to stave off hunger. The gutsier ones, on the other hand, covertly packed up their belongings and slipped out. After drinking some tea and smoking a cigarette in his office, Professor Song returned to class in great spirits, but when he saw how many students had left, his face went red and he pulled the attendance sheet from his briefcase.
The sound of students responding "Here" from every corner of the classroom brought Fang Mu back to reality, and he involuntarily glanced over at Meng Fanzhe. This was the first time the professor had taken attendance in a long time, and it had also been a long time since Fang Mu and Meng Fanzhe had sat next to each other. Meng Fanzhe was now too far away to help, and Fang Mu felt both worried for him and unwilling to watch another of those incredibly awkward scenes.
It was clear Meng Fanzhe was nervous himself. He sat stiffly, his back straight and his eyes focused unblinkingly on the attendance sheet in Professor Song's hands.
"Wang Degang."
"Here."
"Chen Liang."
"Here."
"Chu Xiaoxu."
"Here."
Unable to do anything, Fang Mu forced himself to look away.
It was good breeding not to knock over one's tableware at dinner. But when someone else knocked over their tableware, it was even better breeding to pretend not to see.
Next time, man. Right now there's nothing I can do.
"Meng Fanzhe."
Meng Fanzhe hesitated for about a second. Then he stood halfway up and spoke very clearly: "Here."
Astounded, Fang Mu looked back over, only to meet Meng Fanzhe's eyes. Meng Fanzhe smiled brightly at him, and gave a cheerful, victorious wink.
Before going to bed, Fang Mu ran into Meng Fanzhe in the bathroom. Meng Fanzhe was carrying two large kettles that he had just filled with boiling water.
"What are you doing with those?" Fang Mu asked, pointing at the kettles as he scrubbed his face at a sink.
"I'm giving Tom a bath," said Meng Fanzhe with a smile.
"Then you really don't need that much. It's a waste."
"You don't understand. Tom is so naughty. He always gets himself filthy from head to toe." Hearing Meng Fanzhe cheerfully complain about Tom, Fang Mu remembered how Liu Jianjun had called Meng Fanzhe Jerry, and he couldn't help but smile. Looking to either side, he made sure no one else was in the bathroom.
He turned to Meng Fanzhe and said quietly, "It seems like you're no longer afraid of roll call."
"Yep!" Meng Fanzhe nodded vigorously. "That seems to be the case." He placed the kettles on the floor and reached out to shake Fang Mu's hand, a serious look on his face. "Fang Mu, I want to thank you so much for the help you gave me."
Fang Mu smiled and shook his hand. "Don't mention it."
"When you're free, you'll have to come visit me in my room," said Meng Fanzhe. Then he waved goodbye, picked up his kettles and left.
Seeing Meng Fanzhe so relaxed made Fang Mu deeply happy. As he looked in the mirror, a slight smile gradually climbed his face.
That's right, he thought. Nothing is impossible.
It rained for two days straight, and as September began there was an unexpected chill in the air.
Umbrella overhead, Fang Mu carefully climbed the rain-slick library steps. He glanced at a piece of paper on the wall. It looked like a missing person notice. Momentarily distracted, he nearly slipped on some fallen leaves. He looked up. It seemed like only yesterday that the big tree had been covered in green. Now the leaves were all golden yellow, and as another gust of wind blew, several more floated down.
Five minutes earlier, he had received a call from Professor Qiao telling him to meet in the Psychological Consultation Room. He had not said what was going on, only that Fang Mu should hurry.
The Psychological Consultation Room was on the second floor of the library. It was the first of its kind to be located in any of the city's universities, and Professor Qiao was the man in charge. In 2000, the members of the Provincial Education Commission had held a meeting concerning university students' mental health, at which they called for all schools of higher education to establish mental health services for the benefit of their students. JiangbinCityUniversity administrators had then tapped several professors from the schools of law and education to form the staff of a psychological consultation room located at the university. Being the eldest staff member, Professor Qiao Yunping had been chosen to be the project's director. But in the two years since its founding, very few people had come in for a consultation. Of course, this did not in the least mean that no one at JiangbinCityUniversity had psychological issues; just that most would rather not confront them head-on. And since Professor Qiao usually had many things to attend to, he began showing up at the center less and less, until he was rarely there. So Fang Mu found it very puzzling that this was where the professor wanted to meet that day.