The Retrieval Response (2)

The silver private car hurtled down a narrow road on the outskirts of the city. The pothole-ridden path made her already rusty driving skills even worse, causing her to stumble and bump along the entire way, even striking a stone pillar at one point.

A hundred meters back, Liu Huisheng, who was responsible for driving their vehicle, felt the exact same anxiety:

“And here I thought my driving was a total disaster. Turns out Fang Qing is far worse.”

In the passenger seat, Zhao Yu’s stomach was turning from the bumpy ride. She rolled the window all the way down, barely keeping herself conscious by leaning into the cool night breeze of the suburbs.

“Fang Qing doesn’t usually drive. This car belongs to her father.”

“She doesn’t just ‘not drive.’ Her father won the Mao Dun Literature Prize back in the day, so her family background is incredibly comfortable. Raised in a pampered household, she probably never had to lift a finger in her life.”

“Then that’s even better.”

“Better in what way?”

“Look at her now. Disregarding her own health, she snuck out of the hospital and drove over a dozen kilometers just to meet this person. This proves that this individual holds immense weight in her heart.”

“I only care about whether that person is the killer.”

“Then we keep following. We’ll know the second we see them.”

Maintaining a distance that was far enough to avoid detection but close enough to track their direction, Liu Huisheng trailed Fang Qing all the way from the urban center to the outskirts, eventually locking onto a repair shop near the highway.

Parking their car in the woods outside the workshop, they traveled on foot in the direction Fang Qing had vanished. Stealing up to a room in the northwest corner, they overheard an argument inside.

“If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!”

It was Fang Qing’s voice. Her cloud-like tone was no longer gentle; instead, it was packed with anxiety, urgency, and panic. The emotions arrived in rapid succession like raindrops on a midsummer night, densely hammering her heart until it was riddled with holes.

“I’ll say it one more time: I didn’t kill anyone.”

Another person’s voice traveled through the cracked glass window. The vocal cords sounded raspy, as though they had been injured before, carrying a coarse texture like gravel caught in the throat. It was barely recognizable as a woman’s voice.

Liu Huisheng’s brow furrowed. She exchanged a silent look with Zhao Yu, and they decided to keep listening.

Inside the room, the stranger’s emotions were as steady as footsteps sinking into a muddy puddle, yet they carried a distinct humility buried deep within that mud.

“I have been to prison, but that doesn’t mean every bad thing out there was done by me.”

The words ‘been to prison’ were exceptionally piercing.

Fang Qing seemed to be crying, her faint voice breaking with sobs: “Then why were you following me? You’re already out now, why can’t you just find a proper job? What were you doing following me!”

Even when interrogating someone, Fang Qing remained inherently gentle, resembling a cup of bitter, unsweetened jasmine tea.

The air fell into a dead silence, like autumn soil soaked in rain being stomped on, leaving behind a footprint with sharply defined edges.

Zhao Yu bit the inside of her cheek and gave Liu Huisheng a look. A nod, and they moved into action.

Pushing open the flimsy wooden door, they flashed their badges and looked at the two women under the dim, yellowish glow of the incandescent bulb:

“You two, please come with us.”

Fang Qing was utterly struck with horror, the vibrant colors of an oil painting instantly draining from her face: “Y-You… you’re…”

Wei Jing’s eyes locked onto the cold badges detailing their official identities. Realizing what was happening, it felt like a knife piercing through her body. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked toward Fang Qing:

“You brought the police here to arrest me?”

Fang Qing shook her head helplessly, her soft dark hair swaying in waves: “I didn’t… Xiaojing, I didn’t!”

Liu Huisheng remained silent. Watching the castle of trust crumble within the unfamiliar Wei Jing’s eyes, she spoke up instead:

“Our apologies, we followed Miss Fang here on our own accord; she was entirely in the dark. Regarding the recent bizarre murder of the wealthy businessman Guo Chong’an, there are a few details we would like to clarify with you.”

Zhao Yu looked at Fang Qing and supplemented: “Miss Fang, during the day, we asked you if there was anyone who would commit murder for your sake, and you claimed there wasn’t. Yet, by nightfall, you packed luggage and cash to help her flee. Right now, we have reasonable grounds to suspect that this lady is heavily linked to the homicide case.”

Faced with such an accusation, Fang Qing completely lost her footing. Wei Jing, however, remained uncharacteristically calm:

“I didn’t kill the man. Besides, you don’t have any evidence. I have the right to refuse to go back with you.”

Indeed, forcing someone back to the station required one of two conditions: either existing evidence directly pointing to the suspect or their relatives, or an arrest warrant. Clearly, the evidence currently in their grasp was limited. As long as Wei Jing stood her ground, Zhao Yu could not forcefully take her away.

However, they were not entirely out of options.

Liu Huisheng took a step forward, offering a mild reminder:

“You can choose not to come with us. But Fang Qing has withheld information critical to this case, making her a suspect for harboring a criminal and obstructing justice. Therefore, she must come to the station.”

Zhao Yu chimed in: “Then please wait here. A colleague will come to take your statement tomorrow. Miss Fang, please follow us back to the station.”

Fang Qing said nothing more, terrified that a single extra word would push Wei Jing into a more perilous position. Her deathly pale face was bathed in the moonlight, looking almost translucent as her paper-thin frame stepped into the unlit night.

There were no handcuffs.

First, because Fang Qing had zero intention of fleeing, and second, because she wasn’t the actual target of their trip—the other person was.

Zhao Yu turned her head back to look. If Wei Jing fled in the dead of night, tracking her down again would be a massive headache.

Liu Huisheng, however, looked completely unfazed, her face thoroughly relaxed and serene. She even silently counted inside her mind:

One, two, three…

They had just stepped past the dilapidated wooden door. On their exact third step, a voice called out behind them.

The corners of Liu Huisheng’s lips curved upward—not bad, faster than she anticipated.

“I’ll go with you.”

Wei Jing brought absolutely nothing with her, not even a cell phone. Her eyes remained glued to Fang Qing’s fragile silhouette, her gaze resembling resilient pebbles at the bottom of a pond—clear, yet deeply trapped within a vortex.

“She knows absolutely nothing. Don’t make things difficult for her.”

The interrogation room was brightly lit in the early hours of the morning. Fang Qing sat entirely alone on the chair, her shoulders hunched and her back bowed. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at the rough textures of the tabletop. She hadn’t shifted an inch, looking like a shred of a plastic bag that had been violently wrung out by a washing machine—all its pigment washed clean, leaving only a transparent, fragile thinness.

Thud.

A cup of hot water was placed before her, followed by a bottle of medication.

Liu Huisheng leaned against the table in front of her, her tone casual:

“I know you won’t say a single word. I only came in to remind you to take your medicine.”

Fang Qing continued to sit exactly as she was, stiff and rigid like a steel needle.

“You tracked me.”

Her gentle vocal cords carried a rare layer of ice, projecting an accusation toward the serene Liu Huisheng.

Liu Huisheng nodded in absolute confirmation: “Correct.”

“You suspect me.”

“Not at all. From the very beginning, I knew you weren’t the killer. Just like Xie Jia, you are simply one of the victims crushed under Guo Chong’an’s thumb. The reason I followed you was entirely because of your expression.”

Fang Qing raised her head to look at her, her eyes projecting a silent interrogation.

Liu Huisheng explained: “Back then, when I asked you if anyone would commit murder for your sake, a distinct ‘retrieval response’ flashed across your face. Yet, your mouth claimed otherwise. In that exact second, I knew that this person was exceptionally important to you. You would rather deceive the police just to shield her.”

“You have no evidence.”

“True, but your expression laid out the entire truth. The fact that your body hasn’t recovered and you barely know how to drive, yet you managed to pack clothes, withdraw cash, procure a car, and drive all the way to Wei Jing’s residence in the middle of the night… already proves my deduction was flawless.”

Fang Qing squeezed her eyes shut tightly and twisted her face away—a classic manifestation of defensive avoidance.

Knowing when to stop, Liu Huisheng reiterated her primary intent:

“Alright, I really just came to remind you to take your medicine. Your parents are already rushing over from home. Once the paperwork is processed, you can go home.”

“What about her?” Fang Qing asked.

Liu Huisheng took a deep breath and replied: “That will entirely depend on whether she has any connection to this murder.”

Just as she finished speaking, Chen Doudou knocked twice at the door, offering a reminder:

“Sister Sheng, Wei Jing’s background file has been compiled.”

Liu Huisheng walked over: “Alright, hand it over to me.”

Taking the file, she turned back to glance at Fang Qing, instructing Chen Doudou: “Help me keep an eye on Miss Fang.”

Chen Doudou nodded: “Understood, no problem.”

Only then did Liu Huisheng step out of the room with the file, walking toward the adjacent interrogation room while browsing through Wei Jing’s records. The moment her eyes scanned the very first line, her fingers reflexively tightened, nearly tearing the thin sheet of paper to shreds—

[Sentenced to 8 years in prison for manslaughter; released early due to excellent behavior inside the facility. Formally discharged on July 20th of this year.]

Wasn’t that just a short half-month ago?

The prison where Wei Jing had been held was separated from Wengcheng by over half the country. This meant that the moment Wei Jing stepped out of prison, she had traveled thousands of miles in secret just to find Fang Qing, only to be hit with the news of her marriage.

Or perhaps she had already caught wind of the news while inside, making up her mind that she had to reach Wengcheng the second she was free, no matter what?

What on earth was her true relationship with Fang Qing?

And what was the catalyst behind that manslaughter case eight years ago?

Did it have anything to do with Fang Qing?

If she had discovered what Guo Chong’an had been doing, what were the odds that she would repeat her past mistakes?

Yet, the behavioral profile clearly indicated that the killer was a male.

Could her analytical profile actually be wrong this time?