“Can you make it back on your own?” Ji Qikun asked, his hands on the steering wheel as he smiled at her. “I have a few things to handle at the gallery, but I’ll be back as soon as I’m done. We’ll have dinner together.”
Ji Qikun kissed her cheek and dropped her off at the entrance of the residential complex.
Wei Zhi watched the Bentley Bentayga drive away, but she didn’t head inside immediately. Instead, she sat down on the edge of a planter outside the gates.
She pulled the documents out of the manila envelope once more, scanning them over and over, unable to make sense of it.
Driven by necessity, she took out her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called in a long time: Wang Lin’s.
The call was picked up after a single ring. Wang Lin’s immediate, pleasantly surprised voice made Wei Zhi envision her mother’s face in the grocery store—full of joy mixed with trepidation.
“How much do you and Dad still owe on those online loans?” Wei Zhi asked, cutting straight to the point and brushing the mental image aside.
“Why are you asking all of a sudden?” Wang Lin hesitated.
“Answer the question, or I’m hanging up.”
Faced with the threat, Wang Lin hurried to provide an answer.
“It’s over four hundred thousand... about four hundred thousand. We each owe over two hundred thousand.”
Judging by her uncertain tone, it was clear that since they had defaulted, both of them had simply given up and hadn't checked their loan information in a long time.
Over the past few years, Wei Zhi remembered the police coming to their house at least eight times, always to drive away debt collectors who used thuggish tactics. Wei Shan had even been jumped and beaten several times because of his unpaid debts.
But this was a society ruled by law, after all. Aside from splashing red paint or dealing out beatings in the shadows, the collectors didn't dare take a life. Although "naked loans" had become a trend, fortunately, Wang Lin had the grocery store as collateral, Wei Shan had the property, and Wei Zhi had a stable job. None of them had been pushed to that extreme.
Thus, while life was humiliating, they managed to scrape by.
“You haven't paid any of it back?”
“Where... where would we get the money for that?” Wang Lin said frantically. “Xiao Zhi, you aren’t thinking of paying off the family’s debt, are you? If you have money, just pay off your own. Don’t worry about your father and me. I’m working hard to scrape some money together for you too...”
“Nothing else. Goodbye.”
Wei Zhi steeled her heart and hung up. Wang Lin called back immediately, but Wei Zhi ignored it. After two more attempts, Wang Lin finally gave up.
Wei Zhi stood up, walked to the curb, and hailed an empty taxi.
“Where to?” the cheerful middle-aged driver asked, turning his head.
His life must be peaceful and happy, Wei Zhi thought as she looked at his face, unable to suppress a pang of envy.
“To the Credit Reference Center,” she said.
***
The Credit Reference Center was sparse, with only a few people handling business.
The service Wei Zhi needed could be done at a self-service kiosk. She placed her ID card on the scanner and selected the option to query her credit report.
She had borrowed from thirteen online lenders in total. Four of them were reflected on her official credit report; the loan amounts and dates were accurate. The query summary showed how many times her report had been accessed. One was by herself—this very instance. The others were dozens of queries by financial institutions. It would be difficult to determine which specific company Ji Zhongyong had used to pull the report he showed her.
Since the records at the Credit Reference Center were correct, the problem had to lie with the channel through which Ji Zhongyong obtained his information.
Who was helping her? And what was their motive?
Wei Zhi logged out of the system, retrieved her ID, and walked out of the hall.
Outside, the sun was blazing. The late August sun was at its most fierce; everywhere the light touched reflected a blinding white glare. Wei Zhi stepped into the stinging sunlight, yet her skin still carried the chill of the Credit Reference Center.
When she returned home, Ji Qikun had not yet returned.
Wei Zhi walked to the island in the open kitchen, turned on the stove to boil a kettle of water, then took her mug from the cupboard and poured in a packet of instant black coffee.
Waiting for the water to boil was tedious.
When one is alone in a locked room, curiosity tends to flourish.
The room next to the bedroom was likely a study. Since she moved in, Ji Qikun had worked late there a few times; she had heard the sound of typing coming from within.
She walked to the door and woke the keypad. She tried entering Ji Qikun’s birthday, then her own. Both failed. She tried the bedroom code; that failed too.
Worried that a third incorrect attempt might trigger an alarm or a lockout, Wei Zhi gave up.
The act of entering numbers reminded her of the date she had seen on that old photograph: 1991. Ji Qikun would have been about five years old then, his family still whole.
Ji Qikun rarely spoke of his parents. Was it simply because he had lost them so young?
With a lingering doubt, Wei Zhi sat on the living room sofa and typed the name from the back of the photo into her phone.
*Ji Qianwei—*
“My father went to prison for a hit-and-run when I was eight. Perhaps unable to endure the torment of prison, he committed suicide less than six months later,” Ji Qikun had said.
But what appeared on the search results was something entirely different.
*“Wife Murderer Dismembers Body and Flushes it Down Toilet; Ji Qianwei Talks and Laughs Before Cameras.”*
*“Ji Qianwei, Who Claims to Love His Wife and Killed on Impulse, Recants Multiple Times and Demands Psychiatric Evaluation.”*
*“Jiangdu Wife-Killing Case Reaches Conclusion: Ji Qianwei Commits Suicide Out of Guilt.”*
The kettle on the stove was just beginning to boil. The sound of tiny bubbles churning was soft and serene. Blue-purple flames occasionally licked out from beneath the kettle, brushing against its edges. Beneath the flames, faint scorch marks were visible.
Wei Zhi clicked on the final report and found the cause of death.
*“At approximately 3:00 AM that day, Ji Qianwei used wet toilet paper to cover his nose and mouth. An hour later, staff noticed something was wrong, but he had already died of suffocation.”*
She was so engrossed in reading that she didn't notice the front door’s electronic lock opening silently.
Not until a cold hand reached from behind and brushed against her neck. Fingertips slid over her skin, and the crook of a thumb pressed against her fragile pulse. The hand simply rested there, not applying pressure, yet it made the hair on Wei Zhi’s neck stand on end.
Someone was standing right behind her, pressed against the back of the sofa.
Wei Zhi froze, goosebumps erupting across her skin.
“So, you’ve found out,” Ji Qikun’s voice said, as gentle and calm as ever.
The kettle on the gas stove suddenly let out a sharp whistle as the boiling water surged inside.
Ji Qikun’s hand left her neck, as if it had been nothing more than a casual caress.
Wei Zhi immediately stood up to face him. Ji Qikun turned off the stove, lifted the kettle, and slowly poured the scalding water into her mug. The clear water mixed with the coffee grounds, turning a deep, dark black. The bitter aroma unique to black coffee filled the silent room.
“We have a water dispenser. Why are you still using the kettle?” Ji Qikun asked warmly.
“...I’m used to boiling it myself.”
“The dispenser is safer.”
Ji Qikun walked back to the living room holding the mug. He handed the steaming cup to her and smiled.
“...Safety is what matters most.”
His words were heavy with hidden meaning. For a moment, Wei Zhi didn't know how to respond.
She silently took the mug; the boiling water had already made the ceramic warm to the touch. It was clearly the familiar scent of black coffee, yet in that moment, Wei Zhi could only smell a stench that reached her very bones.
Wife-killing.
Dismemberment.
Flushed down the toilet.
The pungent odor of a rotting corpse and the stench of a sewer seemed to fill the entire space.
“Are you afraid of me?” Ji Qikun looked at her.
“No,” she said, the reflexive urge to appease him coming out before she could even think. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then are you angry? Because I kept it from you?”
Wei Zhi hesitated.
“Then you are angry.” Ji Qikun took her hand. His body temperature was always on the lower side, and now it felt even colder.
He pulled her along, making her sit on the sofa with him.
Facing him, Wei Zhi could see clearly that there wasn't a trace of panic or apology on Ji Qikun’s face for having his lie exposed. That face, aside from its elegant and peaceful smile, was hollow—there was nothing else there.
“I didn't tell you the truth because I knew it would scare you,” he said. “Because you aren't mature yet, and you act on impulse. See? You’re already frightened.”
Wei Zhi wanted to say something, but as soon as she opened her mouth, Ji Qikun continued:
“I hid it because I didn't want you to feel afraid of me because of it, which would ruin what we have. If you promise me to look at this rationally, I’ll tell you everything about the past, alright?”
Ji Qikun’s persuasive tone felt like a devil’s enchantment. Though he was asking, he wasn't allowing for a refusal.
“...Alright, I promise,” Wei Zhi said.
Ji Qikun smiled and went on. “When I was eight, my father did go to prison, but it wasn't for a hit-and-run. Just as you saw in the news, he did something unforgivable and irreversible. He made me lose two family members at once. Although he paid for his crimes with his life, people who know about it inevitably look at me through a prejudiced lens. I didn't want you to know the truth for that very reason.”
“But he is him, and I am me. Just because we share blood doesn't mean we will do the same things. I would never do something like that. Xiao Zhi, do you believe me?”
“...Of course I believe you.”
“I’ve always felt that if there is one person in this world who can understand me, it’s most likely you. Because you know better than anyone that the sins of the parents should not be borne by the children.” He stared intently into Wei Zhi’s eyes. “If you hadn't applied for those student loans, your father wouldn't have even let you go to university. Despite having parents like that, you still grew up to be strong.”
“My father may have committed a terrible crime, but I have given my all to love you. I love you so much that I am willing to protect you from this cruel world.”
“You and I are both proof that every individual in a family is independent.”
He stroked Wei Zhi’s cheek, his eyes filled with deep affection.
“Knowing all this, are you still willing to marry me?”
This was the only question that required no thought at all.
Whether the path ahead was a mountain of blades or a sea of fire, she had to move forward.
***
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