"You know where it comes from?"
"Not a clue." Meng Fanzhe gazed off into the distance. "I also don't know when it started-only that it scares me. As soon as someone begins taking roll, I get nervous, and the more nervous I become, the less I'm able to say ‘Here’. Often I'll jump to my feet, flush with agitation, but unable to say a word, while the whole class stares at me." He dropped his head and his voice abruptly fell. "A lot of people make fun of me."
"Do you stutter?"
"No. Does it sound like I have trouble speaking?"
"No."
"I can't understand it either. Why should the word ‘Here’ be so impossible for me to say? Sometimes I secretly practice by myself. I read my name and say ‘Here’ and I never have a problem. But when I get to class, I still can't say a thing." His voice fell. "Pass me a cigarette."
Fang Mu handed him one and helped him light it. Meng Fanzhe inhaled carefully.
"Four years of college. How'd you make it?" Fang Mu asked.
"…I've got my methods." Meng Fanzhe smiled thinly. "Teachers usually take attendance at the beginning of class, so I'd wait until they'd finished and come in late, pretending it was an accident. When class was over, I'd go up and give some excuse. Back then people called me the Tardy King. A lot of teachers had a bad impression of me, but luckily my grades were always pretty good."
Laughing, Fang Mu made it clear he understood.
"There was one class I had, International Economic Law. The professor was awful; he had to rely on roll call to make sure anyone showed up. Twice he took attendance four times in a single class. Four times. You know what that was like for me?" Shaking, Meng Fanzhe placed the cigarette in the side of his mouth and took a deep, vicious drag. Almost immediately he began hacking like he'd torn his lungs in half.
Fang Mu clapped him on the back, and then when his breathing returned to normal, asked, "You ever thought of seeing a psychologist?"
He hesitated for a moment. "I guess you could say I've seen one. Why? You think there's something wrong with me?"
"No, you've just got a slight disorder, that's all. Nearly everyone has something like that-it's the degree that differs. You're scared of roll call. Tons of other people are scared of heights, elevators, or sharp objects. It's not a big deal."
"Really?" Meng Fanzhe still seemed a little skeptical. However, his expression was much more relaxed. "In that case," he said, looking at Fang Mu with curiosity, "what are you scared of?"
Fang Mu didn't respond, just finished smoking his cigarette in silence. Then he looked at his watch. "I should get to class. We can talk about this later." Saying this, he got up and left the balcony, leaving Meng Fanzhe a little disappointed.
Fear. You don't even know the meaning of the word.
CHAPTER 4
Carrying two grass carp, Uncle Qin walked the corridor at an even pace. He was getting on in years, and by the time he climbed to the fourth floor he was already panting.
He leaned against the banister, hoping to rest a spell before continuing to climb. Glancing around, he happened to notice that the door to Apartment 401 was open a crack. Feeling curious, he walked over and glanced inside. At once he stumbled backwards and fell heavily to the floor.
The two grass carp, their stomachs cut open and cheeks slit, dropped to the floor. Unwilling to give up, they struggled fiercely; one even made it inside Apartment 401. Eyes wide and mouth hanging open, it flopped around a pool of thick, sticky, dark red liquid, totally ignorant of the silent, similarly gutted figure lying at the other end of the room.
Two policemen patrolling nearby soon hurried to the scene. The moment the first stepped through the doorway and glanced around, he told his partner to radio headquarters.
"It's the vampire. He's back."
Speeding towards the crime scene, Tai Wei abruptly changed his mind. Telling his fellow officers to continue on ahead of him, he headed to JiangbinCityUniversity.
Even though his previous conversation with Fang Mu had offered no new leads or ideas for cracking the case, Tai Wei decided to hear him out one more time. When it came to understanding a crime, nothing could beat observing the scene in person.
At that moment, Fang Mu was in Japanese class.
Since Japanese class was an elective jointly attended by 700 of JiangbinCityUniversity's graduate students, it was held in the school's largest, multi-level lecture theater. The class had only just begun when a tall, strapping young man burst into the classroom. It was Tai Wei, and he walked straight to the Japanese professor, withdrew a card from his pocket, waved it in the professor's face, and then whispered something in his ear. At once, the professor grabbed the microphone and said:
"Fang Mu, where is Fang Mu?"
"I'm here." From one of the corners of the theater, a bespectacled student rose to his feet.
"Our comrade from the Public Security Bureau would like a word with you."
In an instant the theater went silent. All eyes left the PSB agent, swept the room with an audible whoosh, and fell on Fang Mu.
Fang Mu stood in place, seeming to ignore all the curious, astonished, suspicious looks shot in his direction. He just stared at Tai Wei, eyebrows knitted together.
Tai Wei waved at him, as if to say "Let's go "
Fang Mu put his belongings into his backpack, and then in front of all the gazing eyes, descended the steps one at a time and followed Tai Wei out of the room.
Tai Wei said nothing as they drove to the crime scene. Fang Mu remained silent as well.
Sure enough, they were seeing each other again because another life had been lost. This made it very difficult for Tai Wei to think of something appropriate to say. And strangest of all was the kid sitting beside him. Tai Wei expected "What happened? Where are we going?", but Fang Wu didn't ask these or any other questions, for that matter. He just stared out the window, not saying a word.
Suddenly, the strange kid opened his mouth. "Isn't this the Brilliant Pearl Residential Area?"
Tai Wei looked around. "Yeah, you're right." All of a sudden he realized that this was where the first murder had taken place.
A few minutes later, he parked his jeep outside BrightGardens, the worker dorms for the Jiangbin City Machine Plant.
BrightGardens was built during the eighties. At the time, the Jiangbin City Machine Plant was a large-scale, nationally famous, state-owned company with excellent pay and benefits for its workers. During the days of government-allotted housing, the apartments of BrightGardens were some of the few seven-story buildings around. But circumstances change with the passage of time. All across the city, huge, modern buildings were springing up one after another, each taller than the last, and today these towering, 20-year-old apartment blocks looked terribly rundown.
The crime had taken place in Unit 3 of Building 2, Apartment 401. The scene was already sealed off when Tai Wei and Fang Mu arrived. After stepping over the police cordon, they hurried up to the fourth floor. All around them police rushed upstairs and down; many shot puzzled looks at the backpack-wearing, bespectacled kid accompanying Tai Wei.
Tai Wei walked inside 401. It was an old-fashioned, one-bedroom apartment, roughly 120-square feet. Several medical examiners and technical personnel were busy inspecting the body, snapping pictures and scouring the crime scene. The place was crowded to capacity. A policeman who had arrived earlier told Tai Wei that the victim, a single woman, had only just rented the apartment. The owner was hurrying to the scene.
The dead woman didn't appear older than 35. She was lying on her back, naked from the waist up, her head pointing south and her feet north. She had been torn open from throat to abdomen with a sharp object. Her ribs and organs were visible.