Good and Evil Chapter Twelve Chen Zhiyan’s Account

People often say that impulsiveness is the devil, yet in many moments, we find ourselves unable to control our emotions, and countless tragedies unfold because of impulse.

Three nights ago, after a busy day and once all the customers had left, Chen Zhiyan began tidying up her char siu shop, preparing to close for the night. At that moment, Sun Xiaomei arrived unexpectedly.

Chen Zhiyan was surprised by Sun Xiaomei’s late-night visit. Ever since the branch shop had opened, Sun Xiaomei rarely came by, except for the opening day; even then, she only visited during daylight hours, stayed briefly, and left.

So Chen Zhiyan asked Sun Xiaomei why she had come so late.

Sun Xiaomei explained that she had quarreled with Liu Changhong. He hadn’t returned home and wasn’t answering his phone, so she came to see if he was at Chen Zhiyan’s place.

Chen Zhiyan was aware of their quarrel because the day before, after fighting with Sun Xiaomei, Liu Changhong had sought her out. They spent a passionate night together in Chen Zhiyan’s room, after which Liu Changhong took fifty thousand yuan from the branch shop Chen Zhiyan managed and left, drunk.

Although Liu Changhong had been there, Chen Zhiyan hadn’t told Sun Xiaomei. The two women chatted idly in the char siu shop, mostly with Sun Xiaomei talking and Chen Zhiyan listening.

Sun Xiaomei complained endlessly about Liu Changhong’s lack of responsibility toward the family, his gambling addiction, and how, even now that their child was in primary school, Liu Changhong rarely picked up or dropped off the child. The burden was almost entirely on her—managing the shop and tending to the child—while Liu Changhong only cared about playing cards.

As Chen Zhiyan cleaned the restaurant, she listened to Sun Xiaomei’s grievances, growing increasingly uncomfortable and aggrieved. A week earlier, she realized her period was two months late and went to the hospital, where she learned she was pregnant. This news left her conflicted; she agonized over whether to keep the child.

In the eight years she’d been with Liu Changhong, she’d undergone three abortions. The doctor warned her that another procedure would leave her unable ever to become a mother. Chen Zhiyan hesitated, unsure whether to tell Liu Changhong.

The previous day, after Liu Changhong and Sun Xiaomei's quarrel, he had come to her. After their tryst, Chen Zhiyan wanted to tell him about the pregnancy but, seeing his sour mood, swallowed her words. She knew that even if she told him, he would never agree to let her keep the child and would insist on another abortion.

She had already endured three abortions. If she aborted this child, she’d never be able to conceive again. Yet, given her relationship with Liu Changhong, she couldn’t bring herself to keep the child. Thus, she remained trapped in indecision.

Distractedly, she mopped the floor while Sun Xiaomei continued to complain. To Chen Zhiyan, these words sounded more like Sun Xiaomei was flaunting her legitimate relationship with Liu Changhong—their family, their child, their thriving business—while she herself had nothing. Eight years with Liu Changhong, and all she had was a char siu shop. Though Liu Changhong no longer restricted her financially, the money meant little to her now. What she wanted most was simply to keep the child within her.

The more she thought, the angrier she became, the more unbalanced her heart felt. She looked up at Sun Xiaomei’s moving lips, unable to hear her words. She’d had enough of this life—young, attractive, successful in business—so why was she always the mistress, while Sun Xiaomei could simply stay at home and raise the child? Chen Zhiyan longed for a home of her own.

She put down the mop, stood up, and decided to lay her cards on the table with Sun Xiaomei. “I’m pregnant,” she said.

Sun Xiaomei was stunned at first, then smiled and said, “Really? Congratulations.”

But Chen Zhiyan’s face remained serious. “It’s Liu Changhong’s child.”

Sun Xiaomei’s smile stiffened immediately. She stared at Chen Zhiyan in disbelief. “What did you say—whose child is it?”

Chen Zhiyan replied flatly, “Your husband, Liu Changhong’s child.”

Upon hearing this, Sun Xiaomei’s emotions became a tangled shock—a man she’d lived with for over a decade, and her best employee, together in secret, of which she’d been completely unaware.

Initially, Sun Xiaomei refused to believe it, but Chen Zhiyan revealed she’d been with Liu Changhong for eight years. Sun Xiaomei was first shocked, then furious, but she didn’t blame her husband. Instead, she accused Chen Zhiyan of seducing him.

A heated argument ensued, escalating into mutual accusations and then physical confrontation.

The char siu shop had already closed. When Sun Xiaomei arrived, Chen Zhiyan had spilled water on the floor to mop; the kitchen was cramped, the floor wet, and scattered with unwashed ingredients. As they shoved each other, Sun Xiaomei stepped on something, slipped, and fell backward, striking her skull on the corner of the kitchen counter.

Chen Zhiyan watched as Sun Xiaomei’s body went limp, blood seeping from the wall and pooling on the floor where Sun Xiaomei lay.

Chen Zhiyan was stunned. Once she regained her senses, she knelt, checked Sun Xiaomei’s nose—no breath. She pressed her fingers to Sun Xiaomei’s neck for a long time, but felt no pulse. Only then did she realize Sun Xiaomei was dead.

With this realization, Chen Zhiyan slumped onto the kitchen floor, staring blankly at Sun Xiaomei’s cooling corpse and the blood spreading like a canvas beneath her.

Chen Zhiyan confessed that she’d revealed her relationship with Liu Changhong to Sun Xiaomei only to protect her unborn child—hoping that Sun Xiaomei would divorce Liu Changhong, or at least give her money so she could leave and raise the child herself. She never intended to kill Sun Xiaomei.

At first, Xu Lang believed Chen Zhiyan, but her subsequent actions made him suspicious.

After sitting dazed on the cold floor for a long time, Chen Zhiyan wondered what to do. Initially, she considered calling the police, but then realized that, as the only two people present, the police would surely suspect her and arrest her. At twenty-eight, pregnant and never a mother, she didn't want to go to prison.

So, she abandoned the idea of calling the police. With Sun Xiaomei dead and the shop reopening the next morning, she couldn’t leave the corpse lying there. She pondered how to dispose of Sun Xiaomei’s body.

As she deliberated, she noticed the large stewing pot used for braising meats. Since char siu rice was made with pork, she reasoned that if she dismembered Sun Xiaomei and stewed the body with pork, no one would discover it. After all, once braised, who could distinguish human meat from pork?

Good and evil hinge on a single thought.

Having decided what to do, Chen Zhiyan stood up and got to work.

She stripped Sun Xiaomei’s body, fetched knives and cleavers, and began dismembering the corpse—a grisly, bloody scene played out in the cramped kitchen.

After more than three hours, she finished dismembering Sun Xiaomei. She opened the stewing pot and tossed in the body parts, lit the stove, and began braising. Then she washed the floor, cleaning up the blood, flesh, and bone fragments scattered throughout the kitchen.

When she finished, it was already five in the morning. She wrapped Sun Xiaomei’s clothes and belongings in a bag, wore a large kitchen apron, opened the shop door, and returned home. She saw no one along the way, which eased her anxiety.

Back home, she showered, changed into clean clothes, and contemplated how to dispose of the bagged clothing. She couldn’t simply throw it away—it would be easily noticed, and bloodstained clothes would certainly prompt a police call. So she brought Sun Xiaomei’s clothes and her own to the bathroom, fetched a large aluminum basin and two bottles of spirits from the kitchen, doused the clothes in alcohol, and set them alight.

As the flames rose, the light fabric burned quickly, blue fire flickering across Chen Zhiyan’s face, making her appear almost otherworldly.

Once the clothes were reduced to ash, she flushed them down the toilet. Finished, she didn’t linger at home but immediately returned to the shop.

Upon re-entering the kitchen, she discovered a serious problem: though she had cleaned the floor and counters, splattered blood remained on the white walls. This startled her, but she quickly calmed down; since she was the only one working there, no one else entered the kitchen, so she wasn’t overly concerned.

Chen Zhiyan approached the stewing pot. She stared at it for a long time, listening to the bubbling inside, before finally lifting the lid.

A cloud of steam rose, and she saw the severed head floating atop the stew, its eyes staring fixedly at her. Chen Zhiyan shuddered, nearly dropping the lid.

Remembering Sun Xiaomei was dead, she calmed herself and was filled with rage. Sun Xiaomei had made her live in hiding while alive; now, even dead, she frightened her. Chen Zhiyan grabbed a spatula and pushed the head to the bottom of the pot, then replaced the lid with relief.

When she left the kitchen, daylight had broken. Voices from passersby and hawkers selling breakfast drifted in. Chen Zhiyan sat in the hall for a while, then went to the supermarket.

She needed new kitchen tools; all her knives had been damaged during the dismemberment.

After buying knives, she purchased a large bucket of latex paint and returned. She wrapped the ruined knives in cloth and hid them in a kitchen cabinet. Then, seizing the morning hours, she repainted the kitchen, and even the whole shop, to ensure all bloodstains were concealed. Once satisfied, she discarded the paint supplies in a nearby trash bin and returned to the shop—it was already past ten in the morning. She opened for business as usual.

At lunchtime, customers arrived. She served braised meat from the pot, sliced and plated, then watched the diners’ reactions from behind the counter.

No one noticed anything amiss; after eating, they paid and left. Chen Zhiyan’s anxiety finally eased.

For the next few days, she acted as if nothing had happened—laughing and chatting with customers as usual. No one suspected that the char siu rice they ate now contained human flesh; no one could tell the difference.

One customer did mention finding hair in the food, which startled Chen Zhiyan. She made up an excuse, and the customer, charmed by her beauty, cooking skill, and reasonable prices, didn’t press the issue. After all, a stray hair was not uncommon.

But Chen Zhiyan knew it was not her hair; it belonged to Sun Xiaomei. She didn’t dare fish out any more hairs, fearing she’d see Sun Xiaomei’s head.

After listening to Chen Zhiyan’s fragmented narrative, Xu Lang stared silently at the handcuffed, downcast Chen Zhiyan.

Who could have imagined that a young, attractive char siu shop manager would become a murderer, dismember a corpse, and serve human flesh as char siu? Whether Sun Xiaomei slipped and died accidentally or was killed by Chen Zhiyan remains unclear and requires forensic examination by Ye Xuefei.

Regardless, after Sun Xiaomei’s death, Chen Zhiyan neither called an ambulance nor the police. Instead, she dismembered the corpse, hid it, and concealed the crime scene. This indicates a deep-seated hatred and hostility toward Sun Xiaomei, a long-standing murderous intent that only lacked execution—otherwise, her actions after the death are inexplicable.

After a long pause, Xu Lang asked, “We found bones hidden in your refrigerator at home. Why didn’t you discard them but kept them there?”

Chen Zhiyan, head bowed and sobbing, replied, “I was afraid someone would discover them if I threw them away, so I hid them at home.”

“Hiding human bones in your fridge—weren’t you afraid?” Xu Lang pressed.

“Very afraid. At first, I was terrified, but I forced myself not to think about it. Gradually, I stopped fearing.”

“Where did you hide the tools used for dismemberment? We didn’t find them in the shop or your home.”

“I threw them into the river behind the shop.”

“Did you do all this alone?” Xu Lang asked again.

Chen Zhiyan finally looked up, confused, nodded, and said, “Yes, I did it all myself. Why do you ask?”

Xu Lang didn’t answer, instead turning to Ning Yanran, indicating she could ask further questions.

Ning Yanran looked at Chen Zhiyan, who seemed lighter after confessing everything, and asked, “Do you have anything to add?”

“No.”

“Then sign here.”

Ning Yanran stood, brought the interrogation record before Chen Zhiyan, who took the pen and signed her name.

After retrieving the record, Ning Yanran nodded toward the camera, and two police officers entered, pushing open the interrogation room door.

They approached Chen Zhiyan and led her out.

Chen Zhiyan offered no resistance, obediently following them to the door. Just as she was about to leave the interrogation room, she suddenly halted, turned, and called to Xu Lang, “Now that I've confessed, will I be sentenced to death?”

Xu Lang stood, looked at the somewhat familiar woman, shook his head, and said, “Sentencing is up to the judge. My job is to uncover the truth.”

Chen Zhiyan had no answer; her gaze was bleak. She did not want to die—after all, she was pregnant and still hoped to become a mother.

At Ning Yanran’s signal, the two officers escorted Chen Zhiyan out of the interrogation room.

Watching the three depart, Ning Yanran turned, her face grim, and asked the calm Xu Lang, “She claims Sun Xiaomei died accidentally. Is that true?”

Xu Lang placed a cigarette in his mouth, unlit, and replied, “Whether Sun Xiaomei died accidentally or was murdered by Chen Zhiyan, you need to ask the forensic doctor. Asking me is pointless. Even if I answered, it would only be speculation—unsupported guesses are nonsense.”

Ning Yanran glared at Xu Lang, knowing he was right. It was difficult to determine how Sun Xiaomei died—dismemberment had destroyed many clues, making investigation arduous. It depended on whether Ye Xuefei would uncover anything unexpected.

Holding the interrogation record, Ning Yanran prepared to leave the room but stopped, asking Xu Lang, “Why did you ask if she acted alone? Do you suspect someone else was present besides Chen Zhiyan and Sun Xiaomei?”

Xu Lang hesitated, then said, “It’s just a guess—perhaps best left unsaid.”

“Say it,” Ning Yanran insisted.

“Chen Zhiyan is an ordinary woman. From dismemberment to braising, to cleaning the scene afterward, how could one pregnant woman accomplish all that?” Xu Lang said.

Ning Yanran nodded; she too had doubts. Yet, according to Chen Zhiyan’s confession and the crime scene investigation, only Chen Zhiyan’s fingerprints and traces were found—no evidence of a third party.

“You just mentioned Chen Zhiyan had a boyfriend before Liu Changhong?” Xu Lang asked.

Ning Yanran didn’t understand why he brought this up, but nodded, “Yes, so what?”

Xu Lang replied, “Have someone investigate that man.”

“Is there something suspicious about him?” Ning Yanran asked.

“We won’t know until we check,” Xu Lang said, then exited the interrogation room, removed the cigarette from his mouth, tucked it behind his ear, stretched, glanced at the wall clock—it was already past nine in the evening. “Time to go home and sleep,” he declared.

Ning Yanran, following closely, glared at Xu Lang. “The case isn’t solved, and you’re thinking about sleep?”

Xu Lang turned, looked at her in surprise, and said, “Solving the case is your job—I’m not a police officer. Now that the basic outline is clear, the rest is collecting evidence. Why should I stay? No one pays me, no one feeds me.”

Ning Yanran considered this and realized Xu Lang was right. With suspect Chen Zhiyan’s confession, their next task was to confirm the victim’s identity—it couldn’t be accepted solely on Chen Zhiyan’s word. Forensic verification was needed, along with a thorough re-examination of the shop to find any remaining bloodstains and the dismemberment tools Chen Zhiyan discarded. These were vital pieces of evidence.

Chen Zhiyan and Liu Changhong’s relationship also needed further investigation, as did whether Sun Xiaomei knew about their affair. If Liu Changhong had raped Chen Zhiyan, he too would need to be detained.

There was also the matter Xu Lang had mentioned—investigating Chen Zhiyan’s former boyfriend.

Ning Yanran looked at the clock and said to Xu Lang, “Thank you for your hard work today. Let me buy you dinner.”

Xu Lang was surprised, “You’re buying me dinner?”

“What’s wrong?” Ning Yanran asked.

Xu Lang shook his head, “Nothing. I just wondered if the sun has risen in the west.”

Ning Yanran rolled her eyes, “If you don’t want dinner, forget it. I can save money.”

Xu Lang quickly replied, “Of course I want dinner. Who wouldn’t accept a free meal?”

“Typical,” Ning Yanran said, glaring at him as she left with a stack of documents.