Seeing Lu Linjiang staring blankly at his phone, Wang Qi tapped the table and asked, "What is it? New clues?"
"Ah, no, just news from the CDC." Lu Linjiang put his phone away just as the proprietress brought over the soup. "Ma'am, besides seafood, do you have any other local delicacies here?"
The proprietress stood by his side. "Is seafood not good enough for you?"
Yang Bo set his phone down. "No, no, it’s just that I saw mountains behind the village. Is there anything good to eat up there?"
The proprietress sized Yang Bo up carefully. "The mountains? Just mushrooms, I suppose, but it’s hard to tell which ones are poisonous and which aren't."
"No meat at all?" Lu Linjiang and Yang Bo probed in tandem.
The proprietress waved her hands repeatedly. "That won't do. You’ve come at the wrong time. There’s been a crackdown these past two years. For a legitimate business like ours, we wouldn't dare sell that even if we were offered a lion's courage."
"So, are there people who *do* dare to sell it?"
"Only those with hearts of iron and galls of stone!" The proprietress looked at them with a suspicious gaze. "You aren't here for some 'entrapment' operation, are you?"
Lu Linjiang slowly unwrapped his chopsticks. "Do I look like a cop to you?"
The proprietress’s sharp eyes scanned him up and down. She didn't dare say a word, simply turning and walking away. Lu Linjiang looked at the table full of fish, shrimp, and shellfish. "Even if Guzman was a foreigner, if he came to a place like this wanting to get his hands on something he shouldn't eat, would anyone actually sell it to him?"
The three men looked at each other for a moment. "Not necessarily. People will risk their heads for profit, but no one does business at a loss," Yang Bo said, taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe they specifically target foreigners to scam."
They instinctively glanced around the dining hall. The dishes on the tables of the few foreigners present were no different from their own.
"Let's eat. We'll head to the police station this afternoon and ask around."
There was one benefit to having two people along: Wang Qi, who tried to rush to pay the bill, was held back in a bear hug by Yang Bo, allowing Lu Linjiang to calmly settle the tab. Before leaving, on a strange whim, he picked up a conch shell from the shelf and had the proprietress add it to the bill.
The Liucheng Island police station was located in the center of the residential area. When Lu Linjiang and Yang Bo walked in, the young neighborhood officer from noon, Xiao Zhao, was writing in his logbook. He recognized them immediately. "You two were at the entrance of Xile Garden at noon, right? What’s wrong, did you lose something?"
Lu Linjiang pulled out his credentials. Xiao Zhao took them, and once he confirmed they were authentic, he stood up. "Please, have a seat. I'm Zhao Zhijie. How can I help you two?"
Lu Linjiang didn't waste words and pulled out Guzman’s photo. "Was this man here last week?"
"Oh, I heard about this. Officer Wang sent word this morning, and I’ve been thinking about it," Zhao Zhijie invited them to sit. "People come and go here constantly. Three to five thousand people a day is a normal volume; I really can't recall him. If I have to say anything, I can only be certain he never came here to report a crime."
Although their expectations hadn't been high, such a definitive answer still left Lu Linjiang and Yang Bo feeling a bit discouraged.
"What about bushmeat? Is it possible anyone has been selling it lately?"
Zhao Zhijie looked uncertain. "If it were a superior officer checking, I’d say absolutely not!" He shrugged. "But since this involves a homicide, I don't dare give such a guarantee."
"Look at this place. A daily flow of three to five thousand people—and that’s just the off-season. In peak season, it at least doubles. Every household only has a tiny patch of land; when things get busy, there aren't even enough crops for the tourists to pick. Restaurant owners buy produce from outside, stock it in their kitchens, and tell customers it was just picked. The taste isn't that different anyway."
"Taking advantage of that to smuggle in some 'special goods'... honestly, with the limited manpower we have, it’s very hard to investigate."
Yang Bo asked, puzzled, "Didn't you say it's the off-season now?"
"Even the off-season has thousands of people. If you're just transporting one or two animals, there are always ways. As long as no one drops dead from eating it..." Zhao Zhijie glanced at Guzman’s photo. "Even if someone did die, it’s not the sellers' lives on the line."
"Unless you catch them red-handed while they're gutting the animal, once they've processed the fur and cooked the meat, they’ll look you in the eye and tell you it’s pork. There’s no way to stop it!"
Lu Linjiang and Yang Bo were amused by the man's bluntness. Cui Bin, who was squatting in the corner with his head in his hands, stole a glance at them before burying his head again.
Cui Bin thought no one had noticed, but Lu Linjiang, who had been watching him since they entered, didn't miss it. He gestured toward Cui Bin. "What’s the deal with this one?"
Zhao Zhijie shook his head helplessly. "The victim refused to come in to give a statement, and he didn't cause any actual loss. I can only bring him back for a lecture and a warning before letting him go."
Cui Bin remained huddled in the corner. Now that his name had been mentioned, he was so well-behaved he didn't even lift his head.
"I heard the owner of Xile Garden talking; he’s a repeat offender. Logically, that should be enough for detention," Yang Bo asked, looking at Cui Bin with confusion.
Zhao Zhijie smiled, seemingly at Yang Bo’s naivety. "You’re listening to Zhong the Beauty—that’s the owner of Xile Garden. She makes a big fuss like he’s stolen a fortune, but most of the time it’s just a piece of meat from the kitchen or a handful of vegetables from the garden. Not to mention we rarely catch him in the act, and even when we do, it’s not worth much. For us grassroots officers, it’s not just a matter of whether we have the time to deal with him; sometimes even the victims can't confirm exactly how much was lost. The chef says five pounds are missing, the owner says three..." He shook his head again with a wry smile. "It’s more trouble than it’s worth. Wait, that’s not right!"
Zhao Zhijie realized something. "Cui Bin, you’re getting bolder as you get older. You used to just swipe melons, but now you’ve moved on to stealing wallets! I’ve lectured you so many times; if you won't listen, fine, but are you trying to show me up by escalating your crimes?"
Cui Bin shrank further into the corner, not daring to make a sound.
Zhao Zhijie walked over and flicked the back of his head. "What’s the idea? Do you really want me to personally send you off to do hard labor?"
He nagged for a long time, but it was like playing a lute to a cow; he didn't get a single response from Cui Bin. Zhao Zhijie returned to his seat, exasperated. "You see? He’s completely impervious to reason."
Lu Linjiang sensed something interesting. He felt his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and gestured toward Zhao Zhijie. Zhao Zhijie waved him off quickly. "I don't smoke. Go ahead if you like."
Lu Linjiang put the cigarettes away. "Are you very familiar with him?"
"How should I put it?" Zhao Zhijie realized he hadn't poured them water yet. He stood up, filled two cups, and gave Cui Bin a light kick. "Go on, help me change the water jug."
Cui Bin kept his head down and lifted the heavy water jug.
Only after he had walked away did Zhao Zhijie speak. "Not 'familiar' exactly, but everyone here knows his story. He’s a local from Liucheng Island. Before it was developed, this was just a fishing village. His parents died in an accident, leaving him alone. He could have survived by keeping the house and tending a bit of land, but his uncle was a piece of work and wanted the house for himself."
"He was just a kid back then. He got confused and signed the house over to his uncle. The uncle was black-hearted; he even wanted the savings accounts his parents left behind. I don't know how he managed it, but he really did get his hands on everything."
Zhao Zhijie shook his head as he spoke. "Think about it—the money and the house were gone, and in the end, he kicked Cui Bin out. The boy didn't even finish school. He hung around the village for a few months and then went elsewhere. I guess things didn't go well for him out there; he came back a few months ago and started committing these petty thefts in the village."
"At first, everyone knew what had happened and kept quiet. But as time went on, the kinder folks would just scold him a bit. The less kind ones—like Zhong the Beauty—would give him a real earful. But at the end of the day, no one really intended to press charges. Besides, he usually just took food and never touched money. It was only because he crushed the shed today that Zhong the Beauty got so worked up."
Given that murderers are often acquaintances of the victims, Lu Linjiang and Yang Bo had heard plenty of these domestic tragedies in their line of work. They had heard even more horrific stories, so Cui Bin’s plight wasn't surprising.
However, the two of them sensitively caught a specific piece of information. "You said he never touched money?"
"...That seems to be the case," Zhao Zhijie recalled carefully. "But in the last month, he’s stolen at least three wallets. And he gets caught every single time. It’s only because tourists don't want to waste time dealing with him that he hasn't faced worse consequences."
"That sounds a bit strange, doesn't it?" Lu Linjiang asked.
Zhao Zhijie finally snapped to attention. "It really does. What kind of madness has gotten into him?"
"It’s strange from start to finish." Lu Linjiang felt that Cui Bin wasn't such a simple person. "Have you never checked what he was doing during those years he was away?"
"I didn't specifically investigate, but I asked around. Supposedly he was working odd jobs all over. He didn't graduate high school, and he says he just did manual labor without any social security or anything," Zhao Zhijie sighed. "Everyone actually wants to find him a job. Liucheng Island has been developing tourism these years; we always need extra hands. But he refuses. He’d rather wander aimlessly around the village."
"What about a house? Where does he live? His uncle stole his house; surely he doesn't let him in the door?"
"He lives at the Village Chief’s house. The Chief feels guilty about what happened back then. He says he charges him three hundred a month in rent, but it seems he’s never actually collected it. He just partitioned a small room by the back door for him. Cui Bin is sensible enough; he hasn't caused the Chief any trouble."
After hearing this, Lu Linjiang only felt that Cui Bin was shrouded in oddity. Unfortunately, his primary goal for this trip was Guzman’s itinerary. No matter how strange Cui Bin was, he had to take a backseat to Guzman.
Cui Bin returned after hauling the water jug. Lu Linjiang had a sudden thought. "Young man, come here. I want to show you someone."
Cui Bin set the water down and glanced at Zhao Zhijie before shuffling over to Lu Linjiang’s side. Lu Linjiang showed him Guzman’s photo. "Did you see this foreigner come to Liucheng Island last week?"
Cui Bin looked at the photo, his eyes flickering. "No... no..."
Lu Linjiang watched his hesitant expression. "Really?" He looked at Cui Bin with a half-smile. "I'm not like your Officer Zhao here, who cares for you like a father figure. If I catch you lying, I really will make sure you rot in jail!"
