When Pei Cangyu woke up, he caught a scent in the air—a fragrance of lemon mingled with disinfectant.
He slowly opened his eyes to find a clean, grid-patterned ceiling above him.
He shifted his hand, slowly lifting it before his eyes. He turned his palm over; it was still wrapped in a layer of gauze.
A hospital?
He blinked his dry eyes slowly and noticed a row of shadows beside him. Turning his head, he saw people sitting and standing there.
Fei Zuohua, his arm in a sling and wrapped in gauze just like him, gave him a small smile. Beside him, a refined-looking man closed a book and looked over, pushing up his glasses.
Behind them, he even spotted his friends from junior high.
Apple held out a bouquet of daisies, while Monkey leaned against the foot of the bed with one arm, grinning at him.
"Welcome home, Pei Cangyu."
***
When Costini entered the office, Prosecutor Anna and the man’s lawyer had already been talking for quite some time. The discussion clearly wasn't going well; the lawyer was sipping coffee with a faint, lingering smile, while Anna looked pale and was pulling out her pillbox.
Costini closed the door behind him and saluted. Anna stood up to shake his hand, her expression softening slightly. "Thank you for coming."
The lawyer also stood and extended a hand. "My name is Cole. I am his attorney."
Costini nodded and gave a brief handshake.
Prosecutor Anna clearly disliked the man. She turned her gaze back to Costini. "As you know, the murderer in the Mayor’s case was Jett Proffice, and he has confessed. We no longer have grounds to detain..." She glanced at Lawyer Cole. "Should we still use his alias?"
Cole smiled, his rounded face even forming dimples as he scratched his cheek. "You may call him whatever you like, as long as his real name is recorded in the files."
Ignoring him, Anna looked at Costini. "We no longer have the right to hold Mr. Bai. You are responsible for escorting him back to his home country."
Costini nodded. Before accepting this assignment, his superior had told him it was a classified operation. However, given the uproar surrounding "Mr. Bai" and the fact that the Mayor had confessed, it was only a matter of time before he was released. Because his home country had brought forward other charges and requested a judicial transfer, they had to undertake this journey. Costini had more or less guessed the mission involved "Mr. Bai" before arriving.
This foreigner had caused immense controversy here. His arrival felt like an ill omen, bringing a string of misfortunes to the small town. He was shrouded in mystery; the residents spoke of him as if he were a carrion crow, and the Prosecutor held no affection for him either. The lawyer was silver-tongued; despite the foreigner having deprived Proffice of his hearing and castrated him, Lawyer Cole had somehow persuaded Proffice to drop the charges and refuse to cooperate with the prosecution's investigation. Combined with the demands from the man's home country, it was impossible to try "Mr. Bai" here. No prosecutor enjoys seeing a foreigner act with such impunity in their jurisdiction, which explained Anna's coldness.
"What time?" Costini asked.
"Tomorrow at 4:00 PM. You will board the plane with him. Once the handover is complete, they will fly you back."
"Understood."
Anna glanced at the lawyer, then back to Costini. "Do you want to see him?"
Costini quickly caught her drift and agreed. "If possible."
Anna turned to the lawyer. "This isn't an unreasonable request. He should see the prisoner he’s meant to escort beforehand."
Cole smoothed his hair. His face was plump and always smiling, but his eyes were razor-sharp. "Prosecutor, please do not refer to my client as a 'prisoner.' That is slander, otherwise you would have proven it long ago." Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Costini. "Allow me to lead the way."
Costini bid farewell to the grim-faced prosecutor and followed the lawyer to see "Mr. Bai."
In the car, Cole pulled out a cigarette, glanced at Costini, and then put it away.
Noticing this, Costini said, "It’s fine. I smoke too, I’m just on duty today."
Cole smiled. "No, I just remembered he doesn't like the smell of smoke."
Costini looked at Cole. "Is there anything I should know in advance?"
Cole rubbed his chin. "What is there to say?..." He turned his head. "Do you know what he’s been charged with?"
First-degree murder. Multiple counts, spanning the globe.
Costini didn't answer, and Cole took his silence as confirmation.
"In short, a safe transfer is the top priority."
Costini nodded.
Cole patted his shoulder. "You’re a good fit. Even though you’re Special Police, you look kind. I believe if you took off that uniform, no one would take you for a cop."
"I get that a lot."
"But you’re physically strong. That’s important."
Costini found this odd. "For him?"
"No." Cole shook his head. "They are a bit wary."
The "they" Cole spoke of were waiting on the first floor of the building.
A young doctor looked Costini up and down. Seeing that the officer stood 6'4" with a broad, powerful build, he nodded in relief.
Cole left him there and departed.
The doctor led him to the nineteenth floor. Only four or five people lived there, far fewer than on other floors. Costini finally asked, "Is this a psychiatric hospital?"
The doctor nodded, swiping his card. "You know, don't you? He has some mental issues. I imagine even if all those charges against him are true, it would be difficult to sentence him to death."
Costini didn't respond. The doctor added, "Then again, his country doesn't have the death penalty anyway."
The doctor sounded somewhat regretful. Costini glanced at him.
The nineteenth floor was exceptionally quiet. Unlike ordinary wards, the doors here were heavy and locked from the outside; the occupants could not move freely. Each room was nearly five meters apart, making the space feel particularly empty and profound.
Before entering the corridor, Costini had to surrender his phone. As he set it down, he asked the doctor, "You looked for someone physically strong—did something happen before?"
The doctor looked at him, appearing conflicted. "I wouldn't say 'something happened,' exactly."
"There was a female nurse who cared for him. She fell in love with him and prepared many things for him under his instructions, but he turned her in. Assisting a suspect is a serious breach of duty; she’s facing charges now. Then there was a male nurse..." The doctor hesitated but decided to continue. "It was our fault; we didn't realize he had a history of abusing patients. He once caused a patient to lose fingers to frostbite but wasn't caught. This time, he was assigned to watch Bai Shi..."
Costini waited for the doctor to finish, but the answer didn't come immediately. After a moment, the doctor spoke again.
"He’s dead."
"The male nurse?"
The doctor nodded.
"How...?"
The doctor shook his head. "Unclear. Suicide. In his own bathtub. He pulled an electrical cord into the water..."
"Are you sure it was suicide?"
The doctor looked at him. "Confirmed suicide. The evidence was conclusive."
Costini fell silent. This sounded like a dangerous man.
He left his belongings as required and walked toward the end of the corridor. The doctor did not follow.
As Costini entered, he realized the rooms were only on one side; the other side of the corridor was a solid wall. At the very end, a single yellow overhead light illuminated a heavy iron door with a number on it. This was the room.
Costini gripped the key and opened the door.
To his surprise, the interior was brightly lit, but a glass partition stood in the middle of the room. Bai Shi was on the other side. Costini instinctively judged it to be bulletproof glass—nearly impossible to break, installed for the protection of visitors.
Bai Shi was sitting on the bed like a yogi in meditation. He slowly opened his eyes, looked at Costini, and offered a faint smile.
Costini’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. It wasn't attraction, but a subconscious reaction. Bai Shi was extraordinarily handsome and possessed an intense aura, with an unspeakable darkness in his eyes. In that instant, Costini understood why the nurse had fallen for him, and why the person he had kidnapped remained obsessed.
Bai Shi was beautiful.
The lights were concentrated on Bai Shi’s side so that anyone entering could see his every move. Costini realized this was another safety measure.
To the left of the glass was a small window for passing items, but nothing else.
Costini cleared his throat. "Hello..."
Then he realized the glass was likely soundproof.
Bai Shi tilted his chin, pointing in a certain direction. Costini followed his gaze and saw a red button with a speaker icon.
He walked over, pressed it, and spoke again. Bai Shi nodded.
It was a push-to-talk system.
Costini greeted him again. As he held the button, Bai Shi’s voice came through.
The voice was lower and raspier than Costini had imagined. His cadence was slow and his tone level, not at all the style of someone his age.
Bai Shi asked, "Are you responsible for escorting me? Tomorrow."
Costini nodded. "Yes." Then he asked, "How did you know?"
Bai Shi didn't answer. He simply smiled as if Costini had asked a stupid question. Feeling awkward, Costini didn't press further and simply informed him of the departure time.
Bai Shi nodded and smiled. "Thank you for your hard work."
Costini didn't feel like Bai Shi was being falsely polite. The man naturally carried himself with such an air that it felt as though this wasn't a cell, but his palace.
Costini released the button and prepared to leave. He took one last look at Bai Shi before heading for the door. He walked slowly; meeting Bai Shi in person had been a shock. He had imagined a vicious, desperate criminal, but he hadn't expected such a fine physical specimen—tall, with the bearing of a wealthy scion. He had imagined a frivolous playboy who seduced people into ruin, but he hadn't expected this steady, distant man with a cold, detached grace.
As Costini reached the door, he heard a noise behind him. He spun around and saw Bai Shi slapping the glass with great force, his palms turning bright red. Seeing Costini turn, Bai Shi pointed at the button. Costini rushed back and pressed it.
Bai Shi looked at him and said, "You should see her one last time before her wedding."
Costini froze in his tracks.
Bai Shi, however, leisurely turned around and sat back down on the bed.
When Costini finally reacted, he slammed his hand onto the button. Hearing his secret, private relationship uttered by a man like Bai Shi filled him with a sense of impending doom. He shouted at Bai Shi, "You know her? Who are you talking about? How do you know her?!"
Bai Shi gave him a faint look and smiled. "Costini, the button isn't a microphone."
Costini felt a flash of embarrassment but stared at him again, repeating his question. "Did you investigate her? Answer me!"
Bai Shi shook his head. "I didn't. It wasn't hard to see. I can explain it to you tomorrow. For now, you should leave."
Costini punched the wall. He glared at Bai Shi with a gaze that could pierce glass. He demanded Bai Shi come back over. He realized the glass wasn't there to restrain Bai Shi; it was there to protect him. Otherwise, Costini would have beaten him senseless right then and there.
Bai Shi waited for him to finish his outburst before saying slowly, "Costini, does everyone think you’re a good-tempered man?"
Costini faltered. Bai Shi walked toward the glass.
He held his hands behind his back, looking tall and elegant. He approached the glass and stared at Costini. "You should think about it. And," Bai Shi placed a hand against the glass, "this is about you, not me."
***
The next day, Costini waited downstairs. The parking lot had been cleared in advance; no one else was around. The transport vehicle was a military truck. The driver was a man of few words who hadn't spoken since arriving, standing ramrod straight with his hands behind his back, staring at the elevator.
Costini checked his watch. Three o'clock.
The elevator opened, and several nurses in blue scrubs stepped out first. They held the door for the person inside.
Costini looked in as Bai Shi stepped out.
He wore white shoes—the hospital-issued kind—and an electronic shackle on his ankle. He was in blue-and-white striped hospital pajamas and looked thinner than he had in his mugshots. He wore a mask, his head had been shaved clean the night before, and a black cloth was tied over his eyes. He was being led along by a handler.
Bai Shi walked slowly—deliberately so, as if refusing to follow the pace of the person in front of him. The handler didn't indulge him and gave the lead a malicious tug.
Costini stepped in. "I'll take him."
The doctor, face set in a grim line, gave him the instructions: "The leg irons must never be removed. Do not remove the blindfold until the very end. Do not speak to him."
Costini noticed some bruising around the doctor’s eyes. He turned to look at Bai Shi. Bai Shi seemed to sense it and tilted his head slightly toward him. Though he couldn't see it, Costini felt like Bai Shi was smiling.
Once in the vehicle, Bai Shi was handcuffed to a security bar.
During the drive, Costini noticed the doctor had fastened the cuffs too tightly; Bai Shi’s wrists were chafed and bleeding.
He pulled out his key. "I’m going to loosen your handcuffs. Cooperate. Keep your other hand against the seat."
Bai Shi turned his head but didn't move or speak.
Costini studied him closely. He felt Bai Shi lacked energy today. He tentatively touched Bai Shi’s arm and realized the man probably had no strength; they had likely drugged him for the transfer.
Costini loosened the cuffs.
Bai Shi suddenly chuckled. "Costini, have you thought about what I said?"
A cold sweat broke out over Costini’s body.
After his loss of composure the previous day, he hadn't told anyone. He had never lost his temper in front of a stranger, let alone interrogated someone hysterically. When he had left the ward yesterday, the doctor had given him a sympathetic look and said, "He’s unpleasant, isn't he?"
The doctor’s tone suggested it was a talent of Bai Shi’s.
But for Costini, it was something else entirely. He couldn't fathom how Bai Shi could possibly know.
Costini asked, "What do you know?"
Bai Shi said, "Chat with me on the plane."
Costini frowned. Bai Shi spoke with an immense sense of control, a style subtly similar to how highly respected, powerful figures spoke. He couldn't pinpoint where it came from—perhaps the cadence, perhaps the word choice.
And so, on the plane, he sat beside Bai Shi. In truth, he should have sat opposite him.
The accompanying lawyer merely glanced at him and looked away.
Bai Shi removed his mask but kept the blindfold on. He took a sip of wine and leaned back. "It’s been a long time since I could stretch my legs. That ward was too small."
Costini remained silent. Despite not knowing the dosage of the sedative, this was the first time he’d seen someone move so freely after being injected.
Bai Shi set down the wine glass, his handcuffs clinking against the glass with a crisp sound.
"Let’s talk about me."
Costini turned to look at him.
Bai Shi continued, "The doctor spent a long time trying to get me to talk. Whenever I told a story from my childhood, he’d get incredibly excited. He’d write articles, adjust my medication... he paced in front of me like a dog, hoping I’d toss him a scrap of a clue so he could 'study' me a bit."
Bai Shi turned and smiled. "But he won't get the chance now."
"Did he shave your head?"
"Ah." Bai Shi smiled again. "Yes."
Then the smile vanished. "I care about that. He crossed a line."
"Your hair?"
Bai Shi didn't answer. The black cloth across his face made every smile look demonic. "I’m going home. But because of this," he pointed to his head, "I’ll have to wait a while before I see anyone."
Costini hesitated. "What story are you going to tell?"
Bai Shi suddenly reached up and tore off the blindfold. He turned to look at Costini, who was jolted by the fanatical light in his eyes. Costini realized Bai Shi was a man of immense vitality and drive, possessing a passion far beyond that of ordinary people.
"My journey. You see, Costini," Bai Shi spread his palm, showing a scar in the center, "any passion of depth carries with it an act of violence."
Costini forced a smile, staring at the center of that pale palm. "I don't think that’s what Camus meant."
Bai Shi turned his hand over, his fingers spreading in a soft, light motion before curling into a fist. Costini noticed he couldn't close it completely—likely a lingering injury.
"They think it’s a pathology. They say I’m mad. I don't think so." Bai Shi looked at him. "We both know there are very few things in this world worth having. The things you cherish mean nothing when they fall into the hands of others. Essentially, they aren't insulting the beautiful things; they are insulting us for being too serious. They say 'wake up,' 'why take it so seriously,' 'don't be stubborn,' 'don't be so dramatic'... things like that. They cram themselves into molds, sever their sensitive nerves, and convince themselves to reconcile, to endure, to retreat—all because they feel helpless."
Costini stared at Bai Shi. He felt he should stop listening, or perhaps argue, tell him to stop using the word "us." But he didn't move.
Bai Shi continued, "Since you mentioned Camus, he had a theory about Sisyphus. He said Sisyphus pushes his boulder every day, year after year, eternally pushing, doing useless work, becoming a meaningless person. In the eyes of some, that is exile, imprisonment, punishment. But the moment he turns around, the moment he walks back down the mountain—that is the moment of awakening."
Costini looked into Bai Shi’s obsidian pupils.
Bai Shi said, "Such a moment of awakening. A moment of clarity."
Costini’s breath hitched.
Bai Shi placed his hand over Costini’s, like a priest baptizing a godson. "You and I both have such moments. Whether we lose or fail, we do so willingly. The stone must fall. There is only one Sisyphus in this world. If futility is truly inevitable, Costini, no one will ever come to our prison."
Costini finally realized where the sense of control in Bai Shi’s voice came from. He called him by his name; from their first meeting, the name seemed to spring from his lips accompanied by a sigh.
"Costini, you should do what must be done."
Costini jerked his head away after those words, because he saw himself nearly trembling in the reflection of Bai Shi’s pupils.
It was as if a current of electricity had surged through his mind; every cell was shaking, and he could even taste blood in his mouth. He was certain that just now, the devil had pried open his brain and heart, peering through every inch of his soul.
Bai Shi withdrew his hand. Costini gripped the back of the chair, wanting to stand up. He should sit on the other side.
Bai Shi caught his forearm and smiled, his tone turning light. "Let me tell you about my boy."
Costini hesitated. "The one you kidnapped?"
Bai Shi nodded with delight. "Half of it. With him by my side, I didn't take a single pill the whole way, even though this journey was far more nerve-wracking."
***
During the entire flight, Costini couldn't sleep for a second. He listened to the story of Bai Shi and the boy. Bai Shi said that under the influence of his fanaticism, the boy belonged to him completely from head to toe, heart and soul, of his own free will.
Costini said nothing. He couldn't judge. His mind wandered; he had felt lightheaded for a while now, and every time he looked at Bai Shi, that joyful face made his heart race. If one lived the way Bai Shi did, could they truly possess such happiness in the end?
When they landed, he had to put the blindfold and mask back on Bai Shi. Bai Shi stood up and cooperated fully. As Costini tied the blindfold, Bai Shi lowered his head; from this angle, it looked like a knight being dubbed, or an angel being crowned. The black cloth covered his long lashes, his pale face hidden beneath the weight of it.
Before putting on the mask, Costini hesitated and asked, "Is there anything else you need handled in town? I can pass a message to your lawyer."
Bai Shi smiled, revealing white teeth. "Nothing major. However..." He paused, touching his head with his handcuffed hands. "If you don't know what to do, you could pay a visit to that doctor. Give him my regards."
Costini found it strange but agreed.
As they were about to part, Bai Shi suddenly turned and grabbed Costini’s wrist. His grip was incredibly strong. Costini instinctively reached for the weapon at his lower back with his other hand, but Bai Shi quickly let go.
Bai Shi was led away by the people meeting him. Costini looked down at his wrist; there were four distinct red marks. He stared at them blankly.
***
To his surprise, he didn't sleep at all on the return flight either. He felt a constant, restless agitation. There was no alcohol on the plane, making the ordeal even harder to bear.
In effect, he had been awake for two days straight.
It was now the eve of her wedding.
He got off the plane, hailed a cab in a daze, and returned to his residence. He collapsed on the bed without moving. He told himself his insomnia was because the date was approaching. The Superintendent had offered him time off, but he hadn't taken it.
Six months ago, they had agreed to stop contacting each other. But now, Costini sat up.
He called her, thinking she wouldn't answer.
But she did. Her voice was soft, even more mellow than her usual birdsong-like tone, like a warm river in winter. It brought him a sudden surge of pain and fury. She said, "You shouldn't have called, Anthony."
She used his Christian name. She was the only person in the world who called him that.
"I’m coming to see you."
She panicked, refusing him repeatedly, saying he couldn't come, that it was over...
Costini stood up. He tucked the phone against his shoulder and put on his coat. He needed to hear her voice. Let her blame him, let her curse him—he would listen to that voice and go to her side.
He hammered on her door. After two or three strikes, it swung open.
His own sister, of the same blood, looked up at him with a bare face. Her eyes were wet, and she shook her head repeatedly. "Oh God..." she whispered, nearly crying. Then she said, "You can't..."
Costini lowered his head and kissed her, pushing her into the room and slamming the door. He let her cling to him, kissing the scars beneath her clothes. She looked at the bunched muscles of his arms, his height that had grown from a small boy, and his clear eyes that never changed.
She started crying again, saying this wasn't right.
Costini didn't care.
It wasn't until they were entwined, their whispers filling the room, that the gunshot rang out.
Costini turned to look at his future brother-in-law. The man was holding a gun, his eyes wide with fury, pupils burning with fire. As a professional policeman himself, Costini noted the man was so angry he couldn't even hold the gun steady; the muzzle wavered between Costini and the woman, unable to decide.
Seeing him, the sister screamed, covering her face as she scrambled off the bed. She pushed Costini back, pushing him out of her body, and pressed her legs together as she rolled off the bed, weeping against a cabinet.
The brother-in-law finally aimed the gun at Costini, who was still kneeling on the bed.
This quiet, refined young man—the good-tempered cop, the kind elite—looked at him with a tilted head, his torso bare, still clutching his own sister’s underwear.
The brother-in-law let out a roar of grief and rage. He stepped forward, pressing the gun against Costini’s forehead. "I could hear you two filth screaming from the door..." He turned to scream at the woman on the floor. "Whore! Whore! Whore! You piece of trash! I never should have pitied you two. My parents fed you, let you move in, put you through school!" He pointed back at Costini. "You piece of filth!"
Costini looked at him calmly. "I hope you stop insulting her. I’ve heard enough of that over the years."
The brother-in-law slapped Costini across the head, stepped onto the bed, and marched across it to the corner where the sister crouched. He pointed the gun down at her, his eyes cold with shame and rage. "Whore."
The sister bit her lip, silent tears streaming down her face as she stared into the black void of the muzzle.
The next second, a shot rang out.
The sister watched as a hole exploded in the man’s face. He stiffened and began to topple forward.
But he was yanked back.
Costini tossed the man aside and reached out to his sister, wanting to pull her up.
She slapped his hand away, shrieked, and ran out of the room.
Costini dressed himself, his heart perfectly calm. He turned to look at his brother-in-law, whose eyes were still open in death.
He walked out of the house. People were already peering out from the street, though the police hadn't arrived yet.
He got into his car, backed out of the driveway, and was about to drive away when his sister threw herself toward the car.
She reached out to touch his blood-stained face. "Where are you going, my Anthony, my dear... where can you go?"
Costini turned to her, kissing the palm of the hand she held against his face. "I don't know, Sister."
Crying, she tried to pull the car door open. "Let me go with you, okay? You can't go alone..."
Costini took her hand, brought it to his lips for a kiss, and refused her.
She stroked his face, unwilling to let go, shaking her head in disbelief. "You aren't this kind of person... you wouldn't..."
Costini gently moved her hand outside the car and slowly rolled up the window. "I am, Sister. I always have been."
He took one last look at the weeping woman and started the engine.
Even as he hit the highway, he still hadn't thought of where to flee.
But at a certain intersection, he suddenly remembered Bai Shi’s words.
"...Visit that doctor..."
Costini gave a bitter smile. He felt for his gun, pulled it out, and set it on the passenger seat. He turned the steering wheel and headed west.
Would this count as Bai Shi owing him a favor?
He was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to see Bai Shi. In just two short days, his life had been turned upside down.
Costini rolled down the window, smoothing his hair as the wind rushed in. He looked down and noticed the shirt was an old one. It had five buttons; the top four were ivory white, sewn on by his sister. The last one was gray, sewn on by himself after they had stopped seeing each other.
He looked at the road ahead, wondering how much Bai Shi, in the far-off East, could have predicted about his fate.
A devil.
***
