Capítulo 8: Chapter 8
On the way back to the city, Jasmine felt quite unhappy.
The uncooperative witness left her with layers of gloom, and with Yan Su present, she felt even more frustrated but couldn't show it. She could only hope to glean some valuable information from the next witness.
The second witness was Wen Bo, the organizer of the password society. Unlike Jiang Xin, he was of Chinese descent and owned a comic book store in the neighborhood next to the school. Yan Su and the others went directly to his store.
The shop was small, and since it wasn't class time, there weren't many customers—just him watching over it.
Once again, Jasmine began asking questions.
Yan Su wandered off to the shelves by himself.
Zhen Ai glanced at Yan Su and followed him, noticing his habitual demeanor—hands in the pockets of his trench coat, back straight. As he scanned the rows of books, she asked, "Aren't you going to look at any books?"
He replied calmly, "I didn't bring any gloves."
She understood what he meant; touching a book that countless others had borrowed was like shaking hands with all those people.
"Have you ever read comic books?"
"No," he answered bluntly. After a long silence, he belatedly realized it was his responsibility to continue the conversation and asked back without much enthusiasm, "What about you?"
She shook her head slowly. "No, I haven't."
"My childhood dream was to be a bookstore owner and solve all the puzzles and codes in books from ancient to modern times," he said, his voice low and unexpectedly pleasant. "But later, I realized that the codes aren't in the books; they're in people's hearts."
Listening to him, Zhen Ai felt a strange sense of peace.
"My childhood dream was to own a lollipop store, with all sorts of colorful, flavored, and shaped lollipops. Of course, the most common would be the colorful swirl pops—bigger and bigger," she said, her lips unconsciously curling into a smile as she spoke.
"Do girls really love sweets?" He looked at her, his gaze more intense than before. "Research says that eating sweet food increases happiness, but I deeply doubt it—getting a tooth pulled isn't happy at all."
She laughed, smiling. "But actually, I've never eaten a lollipop. My mom wouldn't let me when I was little, and then one day when I grew up, I suddenly stopped longing for those vibrant colors."
Her voice trailed off, a hint of sadness rising in her heart, as if time had deceived her. The sweetness she missed out on was ultimately lost to her.
"Ah, that's truly a pity!" He looked down at her, expressing her thoughts.
Zhen Ai met his gaze and noticed he had a slight smile. It was like moonlight on a snowy night—soft but vivid enough to bring warmth.
Suddenly, she remembered her mother's words: those at peace within themselves have smiles that are self-disciplined.
She had always stubbornly believed that self-discipline was a form of enduring hardship, a kind of emotional bondage—like not being able to eat sweets, cry, vent, or trust.
Yet his interpretation of self-discipline was effortless, restrained yet expressive, low-key yet flamboyant.
Zhen Ai felt a stir in her heart and quietly lowered her gaze.
As they walked slowly around the shelves, she asked, "Don't you need to listen to the witness?"
"I'm listening," Yan Su said, staring thoughtfully at the shop's display window. "Though there are people in this world who take ages to think things through, there are also those who can process many thoughts simultaneously and respond quickly… like me."
Zhen Ai: …
As expected, he couldn't help being annoying.
She followed his gaze to the display window, which surprisingly showcased a lot of sports equipment, including basketballs, tennis balls, and ping pong paddles.
Yan Su pondered for a moment and continued, "Besides, I trust my eyes and what's here more than their words."
He pointed to his head and then walked back around the bookshelf.
Jasmine asked Wen Bo about a recent argument with the victim on the street. Wen Bo explained that the victim had dirtied the store's rare comic collection.
As the questioning neared its end, there were no breakthroughs. Wen Bo said the password society was simply a place for people interested in codes to exchange ideas.
Hearing this, Yan Su suddenly asked, "Do you know anything about the last note the victim recorded?"
Wen Bo was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question. "Society members know some basic cryptography; sometimes we exchange notes or play games using codes. But I don't know about members' personal matters or habits."
Yan Su's gaze shifted to a small box near the cash register, where he spotted a few taxi receipts. He asked, "What time did you get up on the morning of the incident?"
The question seemed random and unrelated to the case. Wen Bo, however, did not hide anything: "Uh, around 10 AM."
Yan Su didn't probe further and instead looked up at a row of picture frames on the wall, nodding slightly. "How much did you sell that baseball bat for?"
Zhen Ai also turned to look. Undoubtedly, he was referring to the photo of Wen Bo with legendary baseball star Jonathan, where Wen Bo was holding a baseball bat.
But how did Yan Su know he sold that bat?
Wen Bo was silent for a long moment before answering, "100 dollars."
After finishing his questions, Yan Su didn't greet anyone and simply left, as if he had come just to look at books and chat.
Once in the car, Zhen Ai noticed that Yan Su appeared relaxed and in control, though he had left everyone else in the dark.
The remaining two witnesses were similar to Wen Bo—both were of Chinese descent and members of the password society. The male was named Zhao He, and the female was Yang Zhen.
They first visited Zhao He's dorm, where he was at his desk drawing symbols. When Jasmine inquired, he showed her a basic cryptography book and explained that he was practicing Virginia cipher.
After looking at it for a moment, Jasmine proceeded with her questions.
Zhao He said he had been practicing Taekwondo alone in the gym that day and didn't have an alibi.
His desk was cluttered with comic books, and the wall opposite was covered with many photos of him—martial arts, marathons, swimming, athletics—only one group photo featured the password society. Jasmine wondered why all three witnesses she had met today were athletes.
When she asked about Jiang Xin and Taylor's relationship, Zhao He's answer was similar to Wen Bo's; they only got to know each other after Jiang Xin joined the password society recently. He noted that the two often quarreled, but their relationship was difficult to gauge.
As for others witnessing Zhao He and Jiang Xin arguing in the gym, he explained that Jiang Xin had rudely kicked the changing room door.
Jasmine then asked if Jiang Xin had any bad relationships or enemies. Zhao He's response was again similar to Wen Bo's—a standard male answer. He said Jiang Xin was lively and adorable, sweet and charming, and all the boys thought she was great; he hadn't seen her argue with any girl.
Jasmine felt speechless; it seemed that the allure of a charming girl truly captivated all the boys.
Yan Su glanced at the transparent box on Zhao He's desk and asked, "Do you collect baseball cards?"
"Yes, I've completed a whole set. I was planning to…" He began to elaborate on the precious cards, but Yan Su, disinterested, simply responded with an "Oh," and moved on to the next question: "Has anything gone missing from your dorm?"
Zhao He was taken aback, finding the question perplexing. Following Yan Su's gaze, he noticed a neatly arranged lost-and-found notice on the desk.
"This?" Zhao He explained. "My roommate lost a baseball gold card, so he wrote this notice. But I figure with such a rare card, whoever finds it probably won't return it."
"That's true." Yan Su continued, "Do you know anything about the last note the victim recorded?"
Zhao He looked at him, puzzled. "What note?"
The fourth witness, Yang Zhen, lived in the same dorm and floor as Jiang Xin.
As Zhen Ai glanced at her own dorm in the stairwell, still cordoned off, someone gently tapped her shoulder.
Turning around, she found it was Yan Su.
His gestures were still awkward, tapping twice—no more, no less—while maintaining a solemn expression, saying, "Don't be afraid."
This was precisely the comforting gesture Owen had used on her the day of the incident.
Zhen Ai noticed that since she had seen Owen frequently encouraging her with shoulder taps, Yan Su had picked up this skill.
Yet, his movements felt stiff, almost as if he were patting a dog.
She could almost guess that while he sincerely intended to be friendly, he was also subconsciously thinking about the various bacteria and parasites that dogs carry.
Nevertheless, his thoughtfulness warmed her heart.
On the weekend, Yang Zhen was alone in her dorm, eating instant noodles and playing on Facebook. Zhen Ai inexplicably recalled Yan Su's earlier "breakup theory" he had used on Eva.
Like the other three witnesses, Yang Zhen was somewhat cooperative with Jasmine's questions, but strangely, her answers were astonishingly similar to theirs.
Alibi? Swimming alone, no.
Relationship with Jiang Xin? They often argued.
Had you ever had a fierce argument with Jiang Xin? She pushed me during cheer practice.
What kind of person was Jiang Xin? Did anyone hate her? No, she's charming and lively; everyone likes her.
In Zhen Ai's view, Yang Zhen, like the others, answered each question without elaboration, appearing cooperative but cautious. She felt that Yang Zhen's response to the last question might not have been sincere. However, that was just a guess; the true situation was beyond her perception. Perhaps only someone like Yan Su, an expert in behavioral analysis, could detect the anomaly.
Yet Yan Su seemed unfocused on her and instead scanned the dorm environment.
Zhen Ai did the same and found it to be clean and orderly, with no signs of anything amiss—not cluttered like Jiang Xin's place, nor empty like hers. The books, cosmetics, and clothes were well-organized.
Yan Su glanced at the bathroom and asked, "Do you have obsessive-compulsive disorder?"
"No."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"...No."
Zhen Ai: …
Were those two questions really so closely related?
The last question:
"Do you know anything about the last note the victim recorded?"
"I don't know."
After leaving the dorm building, night had fallen.
Standing in the chilly night wind, Jasmine bit her lip in frustration. What was up with these four? They had promised to cooperate with the investigation, yet none had provided anything significant.
She had hoped to have dinner with Yan Su and ask for his insights, but an urgent matter at the police station forced her to rush back.
Zhen Ai followed Yan Su down the steps leisurely, but he suddenly stopped, nearly causing her to bump into him. This time, he didn't tease her for being slow; instead, he stood tall against the night, a faint smile on his face.
"Everyone is lying."
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