Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

Zheng Yaoxian turned off the TV.

Only his own breathing could be heard in the living room. Cang Liuqing's face was still flashing before his eyes—sitting in front of the camera, her back ramrod straight, like a newly drawn sword. She said, "The Cang family members are tough and upright," and that "some people, even when wronged, will not bow down."

He sat on the sofa for a long time. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, once, then again.

Then he stood up, picked up a teacup from the coffee table, and smashed it on the floor.

Porcelain shards scattered everywhere. Tea soaked the carpet. He stared at the broken pieces and gritted his teeth, uttering two words: "Useless trash."

"The ledgers were obtained, the cement blocks were analyzed, and even Wang Lide turned against him. A finance manager, a trusted confidant who had followed him for over a decade, actually handed the evidence to Cang Liuqing. How does Song Jinrong manage his people?"

He sat back down on the sofa and closed his eyes. His mind raced. Song Jinrong couldn't stay. He knew his own situation all too well; if he were caught and couldn't withstand the interrogation, he'd have to spill everything. But where was he now? He hoped he was hiding well. He thought anxiously.

On the third day, public opinion in Nancheng completely reversed.

Lin Wei's article—"The Bones of the Cang Family"—was published simultaneously in the provincial and evening newspapers. This time, no one suppressed the publication. The face of Cang Liuqing on television and Lin Wei's words in the newspaper were like two hammers, striking the hearts of people in Nancheng at the same time.

"So Cang Lifeng was framed?"

"He took the blame himself to prevent the old worker from going to jail?"

"His brother fought so hard in the ring that he vomited blood and fell into a coma?"

Those who had once cursed Cang Lifeng in the newspapers fell silent. Those who had talked about the "heartless contractor" on the streets also fell silent.

People started bringing things to the hospital one after another. Someone brought a basket of fruit, put it down, and left. Someone asked a nurse to pass on an envelope containing several hundred yuan, with a note that read "For Tianci's medical treatment." An old lady came in leaning on a cane, placed a bag of red dates on the bedside table, and took Su Yumei's hand, saying, "Girl, we know about your family's situation. Good people will be rewarded."

Cang Lifeng posted a note on the door of the ward: "I appreciate your kind intentions, but I won't accept the money. The Cang family will handle its own affairs."

Even so, it couldn't stop the overwhelming outpouring of goodwill from the people:

Someone slipped an envelope into the room while the door was open and left. Cang Lifeng noticed and chased after them. But these people stubbornly denied giving it to him.

Cang Lifeng posted a new note on the ward door:

Dear fellow villagers:

I appreciate your kind gesture. All the money donated has been donated to the First People's Hospital of the city to help patients who cannot afford medical treatment.

Please stop sending money and gifts. Please reserve your kindness for those who need it more.

Cang Lifeng bowed.

The news spread, sparking another round of discussion:

"Did Cang Lifeng donate the money?"

"Even in your own state, you're still thinking of others? What a kind person!"

……

Lin Wei also included this incident in her follow-up report. The title was only four characters: "Integrity Like a Pine Tree." At the end of the article, she wrote: "In this era, some people bow down for money, and some people bow their heads for power. But there are always some people whose bones are hard."

However, to Cang Lifeng's surprise, the posting of this note sparked even more enthusiasm among the people. Several business owners even offered to donate large sums of money to help the Cang family.

Faced with the increasingly overwhelming enthusiasm of the people, Cang Lifeng and Su Yumei discussed it and decided to publish an announcement in the newspaper.

The next morning, Lin Wei received a call from Cang Lifeng.

"Lin Wei, there's something I'd like to ask you for a favor."

"you say."

"My mother and I have discussed it. We've donated the money that couldn't be returned to the hospital. But people are still sending money. I'm thinking of... placing an announcement in the newspaper to thank everyone and ask them to stop sending money."

Lin Wei held the phone and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Okay. I'll write it."

She put down the phone, sat down at the table, and spread out her manuscript paper. The pen lingered on the paper for a long time.

Then she wrote the title:

A Letter to the Fellow Villagers of Nancheng

"Recently, people from all walks of life have come to the hospital to visit us, bringing money, gifts and blessings. Cang Lifeng and his family are deeply grateful."

"But we Cang family have an old saying: 'Hard bones and upright hearts.' We will never push what we should bear onto others; we will not take what we should not accept."

"We appreciate everyone's kindness. All the money that could be returned has been returned in full, and the rest has been donated to the First People's Hospital of the city, specifically for helping patients who cannot afford medical treatment."

"I earnestly request that all fellow villagers stop sending money and goods. If you truly wish to help, please pass on this kindness to those who need it more—the poor people lying in hospital beds who can't even afford their medical bills."

"Cang Lifeng and his family bow."

December 1994

After finishing writing, she read it three times, then picked up the manuscript and went to find the editor-in-chief.

"Editor-in-Chief Li, I have an article about Cang Lifeng to publish. It's not a news article, but a thank-you letter." After saying that, she respectfully presented the article.

Editor-in-Chief Li read it carefully, remained silent for a while, and then decisively said: "Publish it. Bottom right corner of the front page. Free of charge."

On the day the announcement was published, a light drizzle was falling in the southern part of the city.

People stood in front of the newsstand, holding umbrellas, looking at the newspaper again and again, whispering among themselves:

"This family is really tough!"

"There are so few people like that these days!"

"Who wrote that report about the 'heartless contractor'? Have they lost their conscience?"

……

The murmurs gradually subsided. But the newspaper was snapped up, folded neatly, and tucked into people's pockets to take home.

At the hospital, fewer people were bringing money and gifts. But people were still coming.

They're not here to give money. They're here to deliver a message.

A middle-aged man stood at the door of the ward, bowed deeply to Cang Lifeng who was sitting by the bed, and said, "Master Cang, I misunderstood you, I'm sorry!"

Then he turned and left.

Su Yumei stood at the door and saw this scene, and tears fell again.

Cang Lifeng held Tianci's hand without turning around.

The monitor continued its regular beeping. But he felt that the hand seemed a little warmer.

Lin Wei put the original draft of the announcement into her drawer, along with the first draft of her previous article, "As Resolute as a Pine Tree."

She sat at her desk, looking at the rain outside the window, lost in thought.

She picked up a pen and casually wrote a line on the paper:

Some people are like lamps, shining themselves and illuminating others.

She paused, then added:

"Meeting someone like this is my luck."

Then she put down her pen and continued working.

Outside the window, the rain has stopped. A sliver of light still shines on the horizon.

These days, Zheng Yaoxian was in a very bad mood. News about Cang Lifeng was like a ghost, always haunting him, making him feel jealous, hateful, and afraid. He crumpled the newspaper with the announcement about Cang Lifeng in his hand into a ball and threw it into the trash can.

The phone rang. Zheng Yaoxian glanced at the caller ID; it was an encrypted line.

The call connected. A trembling, low voice came from the other end: "Editor-in-Chief Zheng, I...I can't get out. The police are looking for me everywhere. Can you find a way to get me out?"

Zheng Yaoxian remained silent.

"Editor-in-Chief Zheng?"

"Is the place you're staying in safe?" Zheng Yaoxian asked.

"Safe. Nobody knows."

"Okay, tell me your exact location, and I'll arrange for someone to pick you up. Remember—if it's someone I arranged, the code for knocking is three short knocks followed by one long knock. Don't open the door if anyone else knocks."

Song Jinrong hesitated for a moment, but finally gave the address. At this time, wanted posters for him were plastered everywhere in the city. The higher Cang Lifeng's reputation was in the hearts of the people of Nancheng, the higher their hatred for him was. The entire city, even the whole country, was searching for him; he had nowhere to run.

Zheng Yaoxian took a pen and wrote it down, then added, "Remember, don't go out, and don't make phone calls. I'll let you know when everything is arranged."

"Okay, okay. Thank you, Yaoxian, thank you..."

Zheng Yaoxian hung up the phone and placed it on the table. He sat there, watching the sky outside the window gradually darken.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath.

Song Jinrong hid in that private residence for two more days.

This place is quite remote, there are no surveillance cameras around, and only a bumpy dirt road leads out.

This was a property he bought casually many years ago, without anyone knowing, just in case this day came. But he never expected it to come so soon.

He dared not turn on the lights, dared not go out, dared not make phone calls. He survived on instant noodles and water every day. During the day, he listened to the sounds outside, and at night he stared blankly at the ceiling. He thought of the account books Wang Lide had handed over, of the transfer records, of the things he had done over the past ten years. Thinking and thinking, he fell asleep.

On the third night, he couldn't hold on any longer. He picked up the old mobile phone that only Zheng Yaoxian knew about and dialed the number again.

"Yaoxian, I can't hold on any longer. When are you coming to pick me up?"

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, then someone said:

"I've made all the arrangements, tonight. Just be careful."

The call ended. Song Jinrong held his phone, his hand trembling. He didn't know that after hanging up, Zheng Yaoxian dialed another number.

"Let's do it tonight. Make it clean."

A response came from the other end.

At two o'clock in the morning, Song Jinrong was awakened by a faint sound.

He jumped to his feet, grabbed a concealed pistol, and retreated to the corner. The footsteps stopped at the doorway. Three short footsteps followed by one long one.

He breathed a sigh of relief, put the pistol in his pocket, and went to open the door.

Two people stood outside the door, wearing black jackets and baseball caps pulled low. One of them was carrying a canvas bag.

"Boss Song? General Manager Zheng sent us to pick you up."

Song Jinrong sized them up. He had never seen these two people before, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

"Where's the car?"

"It's at the alley entrance. Let's go."

Song Jinrong turned back to get his bag. He bent down and reached for his luggage under the bed. Just then, he heard very light footsteps behind him.

He was startled and quickly reached into the pocket where he had hidden the pistol. But it was too late. One hand covered his mouth tightly, while the other slashed across his neck.

A warm liquid flowed down his neck. He struggled a few times, then stopped moving.

He never closed his eyes until his death. In those eyes, there was fear, resentment, and the despair of finally understanding.

He should have known. How could Zheng Yaoxian let him go?

Three days later, a passing neighbor smelled an unusual odor and called the police.

When the police broke down the door, Song Jinrong was already unrecognizable. The forensic examination determined that the time of death was approximately three days prior, and the cause of death was a sharp weapon used to slit her throat. No murder weapon, fingerprints, or any other valuable traces were found at the scene.

In the office of the Nancheng Public Security Bureau, Chen Zhiyuan put down the report and looked at Cang Liuqing.

"The killer was very professional. He left no clues."

"Who did he call before he died?" Cang Liuqing asked.

Chen Zhiyuan opened the report: "The last call record was three nights ago, made to an encrypted number. The location of the caller can not be found, nor can the owner of the number be identified."

Cang Liuqing nodded. She didn't ask any more questions. She knew who it was, but she had no proof.

She stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the night in the southern part of the city was deep.

She took out her phone and dialed a number.

"Help me investigate someone. Zheng Yaoxian. His call records, bank statements, entry and exit records—everything you can find."

The person on the other end of the phone responded.

She hung up the phone and walked into the night.