Chapter 8 — Listening to the Rain to Read Hearts

That kind of crying where you force your voice to stay low, desperately swallowing the sobs back down. I did not turn back. After walking out of the courtyard gate and reaching the edge of the town, I suddenly squatted down. Sitting beside the roadside ditch, I buried my face in my hands and breathed in ragged, heavy gasps. I was not crying. It was simply that I could not breathe. It felt as though something had been wedged tightly in my chest for the past twelve years, and today, a tiny fissure had suddenly opened up. All the air rushed out at once, making things feel even more unbearable. I had no idea how much time had passed. By the time I stood up, twilight was already falling. The last minibus heading back to the county seat had already departed. I spent fifteen yuan to stay the night at a small inn at the entrance of the town. That night, I had a dream. I dreamed of my grandmother sitting beneath the old pagoda tree, holding her bamboo divination cylinder and shaking it gently. She said, The ordeal has passed.

Returning to the county seat the next morning, the market had just opened. I spread my green cloth out in my usual spot. As soon as I sat down, I spotted Shen Zheng’s Jeep parked at the end of the alley. He stepped out of the vehicle and walked over.

Already left?

How did you know I left?

You weren't out setting up your stall yesterday.

You noticed?

He did not answer.

How was it?

I pondered for a moment.

Nothing much. Went, saw it, and left.

Was it difficult?

Not difficult.

I raised my head to look at him.

I just feel that from today onward, that matter no longer has anything to do with me.

He nodded.

That's good.

He turned as if to leave, but I called out to him.

Shen Zheng.

Mmm.

Do you come to this street every day?

He paused.

My territory.

Isn't your territory in the southern part of the county?

This time, he did not reply. He walked over to the car, opened the door, and turned to look at me once more. There was something very faint in his gaze. Not lingering affection—he was not that kind of man. Rather, it was a quiet confirmation: I know you are alright now, so I can rest easy.

After that, he got into the car and drove away. I squatted beside my stall, gripping the corner of the green cloth, a sudden warmth blooming in my chest. It was not an intense warmth. It was more like the feeling in the depth of a long, cold winter when a stray beam of sunlight suddenly falls upon the back of your hand.

09

In the latter half of 1999, another affair pulled me in. It was not of my own initiative. Shen Zheng came looking for me. When he arrived this time, he was not alone. Behind him stood a young man, likely a newcomer to the unit, barely past twenty, the lingering trace of youth still smoothing out the edges of his face.

Trouble again?

Not what you would call a major case. But rather tricky to handle.

He slid a piece of paper across the table in front of me. It was a hand-drawn map. Seven or eight locations were marked upon it, with dates scribbled next to each one.

What is this?

Over the past three months, a series of break-ins has continuously occurred within the urban area. They aren't the petty thieves who climb through windows to snatch random items. Every single time, they break in while women are living alone, ignoring valuables entirely, and taking only intimate, close-fitting garments.

My fingertips turned cold.

How many victims have reported it?

Five have filed reports. Who knows how many chose not to. With matters like this, many women are reluctant to speak out.

You have no leads?

We have a direction. Back then, there weren't many surveillance cameras, but a witness mentioned seeing a man on a bicycle lingering near several of the crime scenes. Average build, wearing a hat.

What do you want from me?

Shen Zheng did not answer immediately; instead, he flipped the map over. A timeline had been sketched on the back.

Take a look. The dates of the crimes are Tuesday, Tuesday, Thursday, Tuesday, Tuesday. Four times on a Tuesday, once on a Thursday.

What is so special about Tuesday?

The women's dormitory at the Nanhe County textile mill has the highest number of workers on the night shift every Tuesday. Daytime on Tuesday is when the dormitory is most deserted.

But not all the victims were textile mill workers, right?

No. Two of the incidents occurred in older residential compounds. Yet the temporal pattern remains identical.

I thought about it for a moment.

You didn't bring this map here for me to cast a divination, did you?

No.

He pointed to the marked spots on the map.

I want you to help me analyze this person's behavioral patterns. You have an exceptional eye for people; in this regard, you are even sharper than the criminal profilers in our unit.

I stared at the map. Seven points, scattered across three districts within the county town. In my mind, I connected the dots, tracing through them in chronological order.

Did you notice? When these points are connected, the route moves from north to south.

Shen Zheng leaned in closer to look.

It started in the northern factory district, then shifted toward the central area, and the two most recent incidents reached the older residential area in the south.

What does that prove?

It proves he is changing his territory. He doesn't strike fixedly in one place; he is probing around. Every time he changes districts, he is testing where it is safer.

I pointed to the southernmost point.

If this trend continues, his next target will be even further south. But moving any further south will take him out of the county town, and it is unlikely he would leave the urban area entirely. A person like this needs a familiar environment.

So?

So he might double back. Returning to his initial territory, but taking a completely different route.