Chapter 33

Gu Changzheng lit himself a cigarette slowly before saying: “Do you hate people like me especially?” Liu Baoshan knew he was referring to his murder of Zhang Hongyu.

“Yes! I hate cops! You call yourselves the people’s police, but when I needed you, you never showed up—when you do show up, it means I’m in deep trouble! Since I was twelve, half my life has been spent in prison! I’m done! So whenever I get a chance, I think only of getting out of here—I want a fortune, run overseas, that’s where I belong!”

“Hmph! I know some of your experiences in the juvenile reformatory. You were too young then, and you really did endure things you shouldn’t have. In a way, we were at fault too.”

During his physical exam, Liu Baoshan was found to have a relaxed anal sphincter, and based on the degree, it had been that way for a long time. This discovery left Gu Changzheng stunned.

To understand Liu Baoshan’s past, he traveled to a juvenile reformatory in Northeast China (from the 1980s). While reviewing his records, he discovered Liu had been sexually assaulted by a male inmate. At the time, Liu was already an orphan, and he felt deep shame from it. The perpetrator was legally punished, and Liu received psychological treatment afterward—but since he showed no obvious adverse reactions, they eventually stopped monitoring him.

After seeing these records, Gu Changzheng suddenly wondered: Had Liu Baoshan’s psyche changed back then? He had originally believed Tan Haiqing’s mind had been shattered after being assaulted by Liu when Liu drifted to Zizhen City, leading to extreme psychological trauma and a twisted, dependent love for his abuser.

But the old prison guard’s words made him consider another possibility.

Liu Baoshan wasn’t the only boy in the reformatory who was assaulted by that pervert—a boy roughly his age was victimized by the same man. That boy’s situation was similar: besides an older sister who was also a minor, he had no other family.

The old guard added that the two boys later became close friends, which made Gu Changzheng suspicious. He immediately asked the guard to retrieve the file of the inmate named Tan Yang. In the yellowed archive, the black-and-white photo of the boy’s youthful face grew increasingly familiar…

When he returned to Zizhen City with mixed emotions, the June 21 case and June 23 case had already been closed, and the July 5 major case had reached its final conclusion. Liu Baoshan’s confession and the evidence chain were solid; the next step was prosecution, and all that awaited Liu Baoshan was execution. Gu Changzheng knew pushing further now would be pointless—but his thirst for the truth made him unable to let go.

So he deliberately deceived Luo Fei, creating a chance to be alone with Liu Baoshan. The truth had to be uncovered today—or it would be lost forever!

When Gu Changzheng mentioned Liu Baoshan’s time in the juvenile reformatory, the cigarette in Liu’s mouth trembled slightly. He clearly dreaded anyone mentioning those words. His previously lifeless face twisted with terrifying malice.

“What are you getting at?” he rasped.

“Interested in hearing a story about two boys?” Gu Changzheng said softly, exhaling a thin plume of smoke.

“Heh, sure! After all, I won’t have many chances to hear stories anymore. If Senior Captain Gu wants to tell one, I’m happy to listen.” Liu Baoshan forced a casual laugh.

“You’ll like it,” Gu Changzheng said, taking another drag, leaning back in his chair with half-lidded eyes, speaking as if to himself.

This is the story of two boys whose lives began on entirely different paths, yet became entwined for life.

Both were born in the 1970s. One was born in the freezing north, poor and raised by a strange, cold family. The other was born into a scholarly family in the lush, fertile south. Though poverty struck both due to the era, the southern boy’s home was harmonious, with a strict but loving father, a gentle mother, and a protective older sister.

Let’s call the northern boy Little North, and the southern one Little South.

Though born in the 1970s, Little North was an only child—but this status brought him no affection from his elders. From the moment he could remember, he was the object of disdain from his entire family, even his own mother.

He had always been beaten, even believing it was normal for children to grow up that way. Until one day, a relative opened Pandora’s box for him. From then on, a demon took root in Little North’s heart—a heart already empty of feeling for his family. That demon, stirred by another twisted soul, finally erupted.

After poisoning his grandfather and father, Little North was sent to prison by his aunt, the very one who had led him into darkness.

Gu Changzheng paused here, noticing Liu Baoshan watching him with a mocking smile, as if waiting for him to continue.

Gu Changzheng cleared his throat and went on.

After Little North was sent to the juvenile reformatory, his already shattered family fell further apart: his aunt accidentally fell into an ice hole one morning, and his mother fell seriously ill, becoming mentally vacant. Little North wasn’t technically an orphan—but he might as well have been.

He might have spent a few years there, waiting until he turned twenty-something, then stepped into a bright future. But in prison, he met the man who changed his life—Little South.

“Give me another cigarette,” Liu Baoshan suddenly interrupted, his expression unchanged until now.

“Oh! Sure!” Gu Changzheng seemed startled, then a glint of cunning flashed in his eyes. Unlike last time, he didn’t light the cigarette and offer it to Liu’s lips—he simply shoved the butt into Liu’s mouth and lit it with his lighter. In close proximity, he felt Liu’s heartbeat quicken, his body temperature rise. It was only a feeling—but he knew he’d touched a secret buried deep within Liu.

“Shall I continue?” Gu Changzheng asked.

“Are you really this polite a cop? Do you treat prisoners with courtesy?” Liu Baoshan mocked, no longer resisting.

“Heh, then I’ll continue,” Gu Changzheng said, lighting the cigarette for him before returning to his seat.

The boy named Little South was placed in the same squad as Little North upon arriving at the reformatory. Little South stood out sharply among the others. Unlike the rough boys from the frozen north, his skin was as soft as a peeled egg, finer than that of local girls. He was short, and his voice was soft and sweet—nothing like the coarse children around him.

Perhaps because they were the same age, or because they were both newcomers, or perhaps because of fate, these two boys—raised in utterly different worlds—became close friends.