Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

As soon as the demolition team's bulldozers shoveled down, half of the pier of the last old pontoon bridge on the Qingyi River collapsed.

Zhou Xiao later described that scene to Jiang Bo many times—when the bricks and rubble fell, a rusty iron box was exposed, stuck in the gap between the bridge piers, as if someone had deliberately stuffed it there. The bulldozer driver didn't see it, and was about to scoop it down for the second time when an old worker with sharp eyes shouted to stop.

"It was almost shoveled into a piece of metal." When Zhou Xiao said this, the metal box was already on the table in the technical department. It was so rusted that its original color could not be seen. Only a small patch of dark green paint remained at the lock.

Jiang Bo picked it up and weighed it in his hand; it was heavy. He shook it, and something inside seemed to be rolling around.

"Have you opened it and looked at it?"

"No, we've been waiting for you." Zhou Xiao handed over a small crowbar. "The technical department said it's rusted to death, the keyhole is blocked, we can only pry it open."

Jiang Bo took the tin box but didn't start working immediately. He turned it over and looked at the bottom—there was a line of small, faintly engraved characters: "March 8, 1998, Ah Zhen."

Zhou Xiao leaned closer to look: "Ah Zhen? That name sounds familiar."

Jiang Bo didn't speak. He placed the metal box on the table, picked up a crowbar, and inserted it into the gap between the latch and the lid. It was rusted too tightly, and he couldn't pry it open on the first try. He applied more force, and the metal box made a sharp creaking sound as the lid popped open a crack.

A musty smell wafted out, mixed with the smell of rust and old paper.

Jiang Bo completely opened the box lid.

Inside lay a small, palm-sized diary with a plastic cover; the pink cover had faded to a grayish-white. Next to the diary was a faded color photograph, its edges curled and bearing several fingerprints. Beneath the photograph was a small, egg-sized brass stamp with a single character engraved on it.

Jiang Bo didn't touch those things; he just looked at them. Zhou Xiao was taking pictures with his phone, the clicking sound particularly loud in the quiet office.

"Bring me gloves."

Zhou Xiao handed over a pair of white gloves, which Jiang Bo put on, and then picked up the photo first.

The photo shows three young girls standing by the river, with the Zhongjiang Pagoda behind them. The pagoda was shorter than it is now, and the surrounding area was wasteland, without a viewing platform or stone railings, only reeds and the river. The three girls are laughing with their arms around each other, wearing floral dresses and batwing tops popular at the time, their hair permed and fluffy.

The one on the left is smiling the most, revealing a set of white teeth, her eyes curving into two crescent moons. The one in the middle is smiling with her lips pursed, looking more demure. The one on the right isn't looking at the camera, turning her head to look at the river; only her profile is captured in the shot.

Three names were written on the back of the photo in ballpoint pen: Ah-Zhen, Xiao-Mei, and Xiu-Ying. The date was the summer of 1997.

Jiang Bo put down the photos and picked up the diary. The plastic cover was stuck to the pages inside, and he carefully turned to the first page.

The blue ballpoint pen handwriting is neat and tidy, each stroke written carefully.

"June 1, 1997. Today, Xiaomei said she wanted to go to Shenzhen to work, but I didn't want to go. I like Jiangcheng (Shenzhen) and the breeze by the river. Xiuying didn't go either; she said she had to stay home to take care of her sick mother. The three of us were about to part ways, and Xiaomei cried. I told her, no matter where we go, we'll always be best friends."

Jiang Bo flipped through a few pages; they were all about everyday trivia: working at a restaurant near Jixiang Temple, customers giving tips, the proprietress scolding people, and going to the riverbank at night to enjoy the breeze. The "A-Zhen" in the diary was a cheerful girl who loved writing poetry, watching the sunset by the river, and loved a "him"—but that "him" never had a name, only being called "that person."

Turn to the middle, and the handwriting starts to change.

"November 3, 1997. I got pregnant. What should I do? I don't dare tell him. He'll be unhappy if he finds out."

Turn a few more pages:

"December 20, 1997. He found out, didn't say anything, and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. I thought he was going to kick me out, but he didn't. He said he would take responsibility for the baby if I gave birth to it. I believed him."

Jiang Bo paused for a moment. He looked at the girl in the photo who was smiling the most happily—Ah Zhen, around twenty years old, wondering what had happened to her afterward.

Continue flipping through.

"January 15, 1998. My belly was getting bigger and bigger, and I couldn't work at the restaurant anymore. The proprietress looked unhappy. She told me to quit and that she would support me. But his restaurant by the river wasn't doing well either, and people were coming to collect debts every day. I don't blame him, really."

"February 10, 1998. Xiaomei came to see me today, bringing a lot of children's clothes. She said she's not going to Shenzhen anymore, but will find a job in Jiangcheng to stay with me. I cried, and she scolded me for being useless. Xiuying didn't come; her mother is seriously ill. I wanted to help her, but I didn't have any money myself, and I felt terrible."

The diary entries are getting shorter and shorter, and the handwriting is becoming increasingly illegible.

"March 1, 1998. He said he needed to go away and hide for a while because the creditors were pressing him too hard. I said, 'Go ahead, I'll wait for you.' He said, 'Give birth to the child and wait for me to come back.' I nodded, without crying. I only cried after he left."

The last page.

"March 8, 1998. Today is Women's Day, and the restaurant is closed. I was alone in the house when I suddenly wanted to write him a letter. I wrote and tore it up, tore it up and wrote again, not knowing where to send it. The baby in my belly was kicking me, kicking very hard. I touched my belly and said to him, 'When your dad comes back, our family will go to the river to watch the sunset. Over at Zhongjiang Pagoda, the place where I first met him.'"

Below that was another line of text, the handwriting trembling violently, as if the hand was shaking:

"They're all dead, I'm next."

Jiang Bo stared at the words for a long time. Zhou Xiao leaned closer and read them aloud softly: "They're all dead. I'm next. Who are they? Xiao Mei? Xiu Ying?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer. He put down his diary and picked up the bronze seal. The front of the seal was engraved with the character "Guo," and the edges were worn smooth, indicating it had been used for many years. The back was engraved with "Seal Engraved by Guo Ji, Next to Jixiang Temple."

Zhou Xiao said from the side, "Guo's Seal Engraving? There used to be an old man named Guo who engraved seals near Jixiang Temple. I saw him when I was a child, but he moved away after the area was demolished."

Jiang Bo turned the seal over to look at it, then put it back in the box. He took off his white gloves, leaned back in his chair, and lit a cigarette.

"Check the missing persons records from 1998. See if there's anyone named Ah-Zhen. Also, check who Xiao-Mei and Xiu-Ying are."

Zhou Xiao nodded, turned, and went out. But at the door, he turned back and asked, "Officer, do you think this diary is real or fake?"

Jiang Bo took a drag of his cigarette and looked at the rusty tin box.

"It's true," he said. "Fake ones wouldn't be hidden in bridge piers."

That night, Jiang Bo didn't go home. He stayed in his office and read through the diary from beginning to end. Ah Zhen's handwriting changed from neat to messy, from happy to desperate, with each page showing a shift. After writing the sentence "They are all dead" on the last page, there was still half a page blank, but nothing was written on it.

What happened to Ah Zhen afterward? Did she die? Was the child born? Did "he" ever come back?

Jiang Bo closed his diary and rubbed his temples. His headache was starting to flare up again, something that always happened after using that ability. He hadn't used it today—he hadn't touched the metal box, he'd just been looking at it. But for some reason, the headache still came.

He recalled the image: a woman's hand gripping a rusty railing, being forcibly pried open. That was Fang Min, and also Li Hongmei. He saw their last moments before they died. But what he didn't see was whether, thirty years ago, another woman had also clung to something like that, being pushed into the river.

My phone rang; it was Zhou Xiao calling.

"Officer, we found her. Ah Zhen, full name Chen Ah Zhen, went missing in 1998. She was 21 years old at the time and worked at a riverside restaurant next to Jixiang Temple. The person who reported her missing was Xiu Ying—the one in the photo, full name Ma Xiu Ying. Ma Xiu Ying said that Ah Zhen was seven months pregnant before she disappeared and suddenly vanished."

Jiang Bo sat up straight: "Where's the child?"

"There are no children. Ma Xiuying said she went to look for Azhen, but the house was empty, and all her belongings were there, as if they had vanished overnight. She reported it to the police, and the police station investigated for several months, but to no avail."

Where is Ma Xiuying now?

"I found out. She lives in Jiujiang District, in an old neighborhood," Zhou Xiao said. "Should I go see her tomorrow?"

Jiang Bo glanced at the time; it was 11:30 p.m.

"Go now."

Zhou Xiao paused for a moment on the other end of the phone: "Now?"

"Now. Some things change overnight."

Forty minutes later, Jiang Bo's car stopped at the entrance of an old residential complex. It was a six-story building from the 1990s, without an elevator, and several of the hallway lights were broken, making it dark. Ma Xiuying lived on the fifth floor. Zhou Xiao was in front, shining a flashlight, while Jiang Bo followed behind, their footsteps echoing in the hallway.

Knock on the door. No one answers.

I knocked again. Still no one answered.

Zhou Xiao took out his phone and shone it through the peephole. It was pitch black; he couldn't see anything through it. Just as he was about to speak, the door suddenly opened a crack, revealing a wrinkled face behind a security chain.

"Who?"

Zhou Xiao showed his identification: "Police officer, looking for Ma Xiuying."

The face froze for a moment, then the door closed. Zhou Xiao was about to knock again when he heard the sound of a chain being untied inside. The door opened, and a woman in her sixties stood in the doorway, wearing old pajamas, with gray hair and sunken eyes, as if she hadn't slept well for many years.

"I am Ma Xiuying." She looked at Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao. "Come in."

The house was small, a one-bedroom apartment, furnished with furniture from the 1990s, but very clean. In the center of the living room hung a black-and-white photograph of a young woman smiling happily, revealing a set of white teeth.

Jiang Bo looked at the photo and stopped.

That's Ah Zhen.

Ma Xiuying followed his gaze and nodded: "It's her. I've waited twenty-six years, and finally someone has come to ask about her."

Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken in a long time. She asked Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao to sit on the sofa, poured herself three glasses of water, then moved a small stool and sat opposite them, watching them.

"You found that metal box, didn't you?" she said. "I got a call this afternoon saying that the demolition team had dug up a metal box with Ah Zhen's name engraved on it. I knew you would come."

Jiang Bo looked at her: "How did you know the metal box was inside the bridge pier?"

Ma Xiuying was silent for a while, then lowered her head and looked at her hands. Her hands were rough, with prominent knuckles, hands that had been used for a lifetime of labor.

"I put it there," she said. "The night Ah Zhen disappeared, I went to look for her, but no one was home, only this metal box was left. I didn't know who to give it to, and I didn't dare keep it. I was afraid those people would come after me."

"Who are they?"

Ma Xiuying looked up at Ah Zhen's photo. Ah Zhen in the photo was forever young, forever smiling, and forever unaware of what happened later.

"The man Ah Zhen was with, surnamed Guo, owned a restaurant by the river," Ma Xiuying said. "That man was no good. He lied to Ah Zhen, saying he would marry her, but he just wanted her because she was young. Ah Zhen got pregnant, and he made her give birth, but he never mentioned marriage. Later, when the creditors came knocking, he ran away, leaving Ah Zhen alone."

What happened the day Ah Zhen went missing?

Ma Xiuying shook her head: "I don't know. I went to see my mother that day, and she wasn't in Jiangcheng. When I came back the next day, Azhen was gone. I searched the whole of Jiangcheng and asked everyone, but no one knew where she went. Later, someone said they saw her walking towards the river at night and never came back."

As she spoke, her eyes reddened, but she didn't cry, as if she had already run out of tears.

"In those years, it wasn't just Ah Zhen who died," she said. "Ah Zhen's younger sister—the girl Ah Zhen gave birth to—also died later. She drowned by the river. Then, the girl's aunt, Ah Zhen's own sister, also died. Their family was left with only one son, who lived with his maternal grandmother back then."

Jiang Bo's mind raced through the timeline. Ah Zhen disappeared in 1998. An unidentified girl was found in 1999. In 2000, Ah Zhen's sister—the girl's aunt—died. Three women, three years, all connected to that man surnamed Guo.

"What happened to that guy surnamed Guo?"

Ma Xiuying sneered, "He ran away and never came back. Some say he died somewhere else, others say he's still alive, just changed his name and continues to deceive people. I don't know, and I don't want to know anymore."

She stood up, walked to a cabinet, opened the drawer, rummaged through it for a while, took out a yellowed piece of paper, and handed it to Jiang Bo.

"This is the receipt I received from the police station when I filed the report. Take a look."

Jiang Bo took it. It was an A5-sized piece of paper with a red official seal on it. The writing was blurred, but it was still legible: "Chen Azhen's disappearance case has been accepted and is under investigation." The date was April 2, 1998.

"The investigation lasted three months, and then it just fizzled out," Ma Xiuying said. "Back then, these kinds of things happened all the time; women would run away, go off with other men, and nobody cared. But I knew Ah Zhen hadn't run away. She wouldn't run away; she was pregnant, and she said she'd wait for that man to come back. She's so foolish, how could she run away?"

Jiang Bo returned the receipt to her, stood up, and walked to Ah Zhen's photo. The girl in the photo was smiling so happily, her eyes curving into two crescent moons. He didn't know what Ah Zhen had gone through afterward, but that image—a woman having her fingers pried open and being pushed off a railing—suddenly flashed through his mind.

He asked, "Can Ah Zhen swim?"

Ma Xiuying paused for a moment: "No. She's afraid of water and never goes near the river."

She couldn't swim and was afraid of water, yet when she was seven months pregnant, she went to the riverbank at night. Then she disappeared.

Jiang Bo turned around: "What's that guy surnamed Guo's full name?"

"Guo Jianshe," Ma Xiuying said, "the owner of the riverside restaurant, a man from out of town, said to be from somewhere in Anhui, but I'm not sure. His restaurant was right next to the Zhongjiang Pagoda, and it burned down completely."

Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao exchanged a glance. Next to Zhongjiang Pagoda is the current observation deck.

As she was leaving, Ma Xiuying saw her to the door. Leaning against the doorframe, she suddenly asked, "Officer, have you found Ah Zhen's child?"

Jiang Bo looked at her.

"That little girl, the one who drowned in 1999," Ma Xiuying said, "some people say she was Ah Zhen's child. Is that true?"

Jiang Bo was silent for a few seconds, then said, "We're still investigating."

Ma Xiuying nodded and didn't ask any more questions. She closed the door, and Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao stood in the hallway, hearing suppressed sobs coming from inside. They were very low, as if they had been holding back for many years and finally couldn't hold it in anymore.

As they went downstairs, Zhou Xiao whispered, "Can you find out anything about that guy surnamed Guo?"

"Check," Jiang Bo said. "Go to the fire department tomorrow to retrieve the fire records. Also, check if Guo Jianshe has any household registration information and if he has any children."

As Jiang Bo drove out of the residential area, he glanced at the rearview mirror. The light was still on in Ma Xiuying's apartment on the fifth floor, where a lonely figure stood by the window.

He recalled Ma Xiuying's words: "They're all dead, I'm next."

Are the "them" mentioned in Ah Zhen's diary the two girls who took photos with her? What happened to Xiao Mei later? Xiu Ying—Ma Xiu Ying—is still alive, but who are "them"?

Jiang Bo suddenly slammed on the brakes.

Zhou Xiao was startled: "What's wrong?"

Jiang Bo didn't say anything, parked the car on the side of the road, and picked up his phone to call Liu Tong.

"Check if any woman named 'Xiao Mei' has died or gone missing in Jiangcheng since 1997. She was probably around twenty years old and knew Ah Zhen."

Liu Tong typed rapidly on his keyboard, and after half a minute said, "There's one. Li Chunmei, disappeared in 1998, she was 22 years old at the time, and worked at a riverside restaurant. She was Ah Zhen's colleague before she disappeared."

Jiang Bo hung up the phone, leaned back in his seat, and looked out at the dark streets.

Xiaomei has also gone missing.

In 1998, two young women disappeared one after the other. They had worked at the same restaurant and met the same man surnamed Guo.

Then the restaurant burned down.

Then Ah Zhen's child died.

Then the child's aunt also died.

Jiang Bo started the car and drove towards the Criminal Investigation Division. A picture in his mind became clearer and clearer—not the fragmented image he could see with his abilities, but a complete picture pieced together by logic: a man who used a riverside restaurant to approach young women, get them pregnant, and then make them disappear.

Guo Jianshe.

But if he dies, dies in prison, then who committed these crimes twenty years later?

Was that bricklayer—Ah Zhen's son—really the murderer? Or was he just someone who surfaced by accident, while the real hunter remained hidden in the shadows?

Jiang Bo stepped on the gas, and the car sped away on the empty street.