"Nothing so far." Fang Mu shook his head. "I can't tell you how many times I've scrutinized that thing without finding a single clue." He grabbed a book from his shelf and handed it to Tai Wei. "I took the book that the excerpt came from out of the library, hoping that I might find something. It's called Legends of the Hulan River."
Tai Wei weighed the book in his hands. It didn't feel that heavy. But when he opened it and saw how small the printing was inside, he couldn't help but lose heart. "Jeez, it would take forever to find a clue in here."
"I'm also going to check out the textbook that this excerpt came from. Maybe I'll be able to find something in there."
Tai Wei paused to think for a moment. "You think the killer might have written the clue directly onto the excerpt with disappearing ink or something?"
"I don't think so," Fang Mu said quickly, as if he had long since considered this possibility. "He would have known that the paper would be submerged for some time, and if the ink couldn't reappear then there would be no point of writing it in the first place. I think the clue most likely has something to do with the excerpt itself."
"Jeez, who would have thought that an elementary school textbook would contain the clue to a murder?" Tai Wei stood up and stretched. Suddenly he stopped and said, "You think the next victim is going to be a fourth-grader?"
Fang Mu smiled grimly. "Who knows? Anything is possible."
He looked at the mountain of documents stacked beside his computer. "From tests I've taken in the past, I remember that the last question is frequently the hardest. The teacher would always tell us to first do the easier ones, and then if we still had time, to summon our energy and attempt the final problem."
What was the answer to the seventh question?
It was another cold and dry early winter's morning. Backpack on his back, Fang Mu hurried toward the EducationBuilding. The campus was just as bustling as ever. After slacking off all semester the students were finally getting serious. Final exams were almost there.
During first and second period that day, Professor Qiao had been teaching undergraduate criminology. Because there had been no criminology courses at Changhong City Teacher's College, Fang Mu made a point to sit in whenever he could.
In addition, he hadn't seen Professor Qiao since that time in his apartment. His final sentence, "This will all be over soon," had been making Fang Mu nervous ever since. He really wanted to speak with the professor, but even if they couldn't talk, Fang Mu hoped that Professor Qiao might still give him some unspoken clue.
The classroom was much fuller than usual. Since exams were coming up, students were of the mind that they would be penalized if they didn't show up.
Fang Mu sat down in one of the corners of the room. Recognizing him, some students pointed in his direction, but he just pretended to not see them.
It was already after 8 a.m. and the professor still hadn't showed up.
Up until that point the students had been quietly awaiting the start of class, but now they began to get a little noisy. At 8:15, there was still no sign of Professor Qiao. Some of the more impatient students demanded that the class monitor call him up and see what was going on.
Holding his phone, the class monitor ran into the hall and dialed. He returned a moment later. "His phone's off."
"The dean's office, call the dean's office," someone suggested.
At 8:30, someone from the dean's office hurried into the classroom and announced that class was canceled for the day.
Groaning, the students quickly packed up their stuff and then streamed out of the classroom. Before long, Fang Mu was the only person left.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Professor Qiao's cell. It was off.
He tried his home number. Busy.
He dialed it again and again, but it was busy every time.
An ominous feeling suddenly came over Fang Mu.
That afternoon, his feeling finally became reality.
One of Professor Qiao's older graduate students, who was getting ready to graduate, came to see Fang Mu and asked him if he knew the professor's whereabouts. When Fang Mu shook his head, the older grad student grew anxious.
"Shit, man, I haven't finished my thesis yet and now he's missing? I think I might have to temporarily change advisors."
The snide comment made Fang Mu suddenly wanted to curse at the guy. But before he could open his mouth, the grad student had walked off.
Forcing himself to calm down, Fang Mu grabbed his phone and dialed Professor Qiao's home number again. It was still busy.
He kept trying. At last he got through.
A worried-sounding woman picked up the phone. "Hello? Who's this?" It was Mrs. Qiao.
"Hi, Mrs. Qiao, it's me, Fang Mu. Is Professor Qiao around?" he asked.
Mrs. Qiao began to softly cry. "Old Qiao hasn't been home for a day and a half…"
"What?" Fang Mu felt as if his heart had been suddenly squeezed in an iron grip.
Professor Qiao was missing.
CHAPTER 26
Professor Qiao's house was packed full of people. The living room, which was already small to begin with, felt terribly crowded.
There were classmates from Fang Mu's year, as well as some of the professor's older male and female graduate students. Bian Ping, the top-ranking officer from the provincial PSB, was there, too, and when he saw Fang Mu come in he gave him a slight nod.
Fang Mu nodded back at him. Unable to wait any longer, he walked over to the sofa where Mrs. Qiao was drying her eyes. He asked her: "Mrs. Qiao, what happened?"
Her eyes already red from crying, Mrs. Qiao choked back a sob. "The night before last, Old Qiao told me he was going out to see a friend and then left without saying who it was. I waited up for him until after eleven, and when he still hadn't returned, I called his phone, but it was off. I assumed he had probably gone out to dinner and then to a public bathhouse, so I went to sleep. He didn't return all day yesterday, and his phone was still off. I thought he must have gone straight to school, but no one there had seen him, either. Up until now there's been no news at all…"
Suddenly the phone rang and Mrs. Qiao, who only a moment before seemed to have lost all her strength, practically dove for it and grabbed it from the cradle: "Hello? Hello…" Her voice fell. "You bought your ticket? …Tonight? Good, come home and help me find your dad. …Yes, okay, okay."
At last, after hanging up the phone, Mrs. Qiao could no longer control herself, and she began to sob uncontrollably.
Bian Ping stood up and helped her to the couch, consoling her softly.
"You told Qiao Yu to come home?"
"Yes." Mrs. Qiao took Bian Ping's hand. "Little Bian, promise me you'll help me find Professor Qiao. He's an old man; if something bad were to happen to him…"
"Don't think like that, Mrs. Qiao," Bian Ping said quickly. "There's no reason to believe that anything has happened to Professor Qiao. Perhaps…perhaps he just went off somewhere to investigate a case." Then as if he realized that this didn't sound very persuasive, he hurriedly added, "I've already sent my men to look for him; we should be hearing some news soon."
But when the other people around her echoed these words, Mrs. Qiao only seemed to be even more at a loss.
Visitors kept pouring in, the dean of the law school and the president of the university among them. When the phone rang again, Mrs. Qiao once more grabbed it with a look of hope on her face, but as soon as she heard the caller's voice she was once more disappointed.
"Yes… Then you should come by, Little Sun. Okay, see you soon."
Another visitor was on their way over.
After looking around the room, Bian Ping said to the students, "You should all head back. We'll let you know if there's any news."