Good and Evil Chapter 146 The Person Missing for Eleven Years and the Murder Case from Eleven Years Ago

More than half of December had already passed, and the New Year was approaching. On this particular day, in Xiaofeng Village, N City, N Province, Chen Xingzhou, who was over sixty years of age, was hosting a joyous wedding.

Xiaofeng Village was neither particularly small nor exceptionally large, comprising over three hundred households with a total population of several thousand. In the countryside, a wedding was a momentous village affair. Whenever a family took in a daughter-in-law or married off a daughter, virtually the entire village would come forward to lend a hand. The wedding being held at Chen Xingzhou’s home today was precisely for his younger son, Chen Yiming.

With the Lunar New Year fast approaching, the young people who usually worked odd jobs away from home had gradually returned to Xiaofeng Village. They brought back the fruits of a year’s labor and hardship to the hometown that had nurtured them. Chen Yiming was twenty-eight years old this year, a university graduate currently working at a private enterprise. The bride he was marrying was a thoroughly urban woman. For Chen Yiming, who hailed from a rural background, this was a wonderful fortune. For Chen Xingzhou and his wife, it was an achievement that brought honor to their ancestors, and for Xiaofeng Village as a whole, it was a matter of great pride that allowed them to hold their heads high.

Located in the northern part of China, N City suffered from a biting, bone-chilling cold. Unlike the damp and freezing winters of S City in the south, the cold of N City was dry and piercing.

Xiaofeng Village was adorned with festive lanterns and colorful banners, brimming with a joyful atmosphere. Every guest who arrived at Chen Xingzhou’s home wore a smile—some out of genuine admiration, others offering blessings, and naturally, a few harboring hidden envy. Of course, being adults, no one would easily reveal their true feelings on their faces. Several neighbors and long-time acquaintances of the Chen couple had also arrived early to help out.

Both the interior and the courtyard of Chen Xingzhou’s house were packed with villagers who had come to offer congratulations and partake in the wedding banquet. Puffing on cigarettes and sipping tea, they sat gathered around small brazier stoves, warming themselves by the fire, chatting, and gossiping in a scene of lively celebration. The ground in the courtyard was already covered with a thick crimson layer of exploded firecracker debris, while large double-happiness characters and brand-new, festive couplets adorned the gates and door frames, seemingly heralding the birth of a new family.

After returning with the motorcade carrying his bride, Chen Yiming busied himself everywhere around the house. Because the wedding was taking place in a rural village—and Xiaofeng Village was only so large—Chen Yiming knew virtually everyone who had come for the banquet. Unlike in the cities, rural weddings were much more casual, free from rigid formalities; as long as proper etiquette was observed and titles were used correctly, that was all that mattered. Compared to the countryside, urban weddings often carried an extra layer of ostentation and comparison, while lacking the warmth of genuine human connection.

Ordinarily, a son’s wedding was a monumental occasion of supreme joy, one that should fill parents with unadulterated happiness. Furthermore, the bride came from the city. Yet, despite her urban upbringing, she showed no trace of being pampered or spoiled. Upon entering the house, she immediately changed out of her pristine white wedding gown into casual clothes and joined Chen Yiming in attending to the guests and managing the preparations. Chen Xingzhou and his wife looked out at the bustling, brilliantly lively crowd, and especially at their younger son bustling energetically among the guests. Although smiles graced the faces of the elderly couple, a closer look revealed a certain stiffness in their expressions. Naturally, this did not stem from any dissatisfaction with their younger son marrying an urban woman; on the contrary, the old couple were immensely satisfied and delighted. Their minds had simply drifted to their eldest son, Chen Zhi, who had been missing for eleven long years.

Chen Zhi was Chen Xingzhou’s firstborn child. The couple had two children in total, both boys. Chen Zhi was eight years older than Chen Yiming; if he were still alive today, he would be thirty-eight years old, entering his zodiac birth year. Today, the day of Chen Yiming’s wedding, also happened to be Chen Zhi’s thirty-eighty birthday. The primary reason Chen Yiming had scheduled his wedding for this particular day was to bring a measure of happiness to his aging parents.

Chen Zhi was a graduate of the Huaxia Institute of Geology, having majored in civil engineering. Upon graduation, he secured a position at a state-owned enterprise in G City. Producing a university student in Xiaofeng Village was not only a supreme honor for the Chen family but for the entire village as well, for in the countryside, a university graduate was regarded with the same reverence as someone who passed the imperial examinations in ancient times. Moreover, the fact that Chen Zhi had worked for a state-owned enterprise made him an object of intense envy and admiration for everyone in Xiaofeng Village.

When Chen Zhi was first admitted to the university, the village had even organized a special celebratory gathering in his honor. When he left for G City to begin his employment, the villagers had sincerely rejoiced for the young man who had walked out of their humble village into the wider world. Yet, all of this came to an abrupt end eleven years ago, shattered by a single telephone call.

It was eleven years ago, three years after Chen Zhi’s graduation and during his third year of employment in G City. That autumn, Chen Zhi suddenly placed a call home. The person who answered was none other than his father, Chen Xingzhou.

Over the phone, Chen Zhi poured out his grievances to Chen Xingzhou, complaining that living alone in G City made him deeply unhappy. The cost of living was exorbitantly high, he was a stranger in an unfamiliar place with no companions, and whenever his company granted holidays, his colleagues would all return home to spend the festivals with their families, leaving him entirely alone in the company dormitory.

At the time, Chen Xingzhou offered a brief rebuke, reminding his son that he came from a rural background and should not try to keep up with urban dwellers, as he could never match them and would only cause himself unnecessary distress. Beyond that, being an unlettered countryman, Chen Xingzhou could not articulate grand philosophies. He simply instructed Chen Zhi to take good care of himself away from home, practice thrift, save his earnings, and prepare for the future when he would need to marry and settle down.

Sensing a certain heaviness in his son’s voice during the call, the old man did not think much of it, assuming Chen Zhi was merely feeling homesick, and offered a few comforting words before ending the call.

After hanging up, Chen Xingzhou turned his attention back to his chores, never imagining in his wildest dreams that this would be the final phone call he ever received from Chen Zhi.

A month after that call, Chen Xingzhou began to feel a vague sense of unease. Although Chen Zhi was busy with his demanding job at the state-owned enterprise in G City, he was an exceptionally filial son. Without fail, he would call home every week or two at the absolute most, ensuring his parents thousands of miles away knew he was safe. Yet now, a full month had passed without a single word.

Neither Chen Xingzhou nor his wife had ever attended school; they were functionally illiterate, unable to read a single character beyond a few Arabic numerals. The landline telephone in their home had been installed by Chen Zhi after he started working, specifically to make it easier to stay in touch with his aging parents. At the time, their younger son Chen Yiming was away attending high school and living in the school dormitory, leaving only Chen Xingzhou and his wife at home. Though puzzled, Chen Xingzhou initially chalked it up to his son being consumed by work.

However, three months slipped by, and the Lunar New Year was fast approaching. Chen Zhi neither returned home nor made a phone call, plunging the old couple into profound anxiety.

That year, the New Year’s Eve dinner was shared by only three people: Chen Xingzhou, his wife, and their younger son Chen Yiming. Chen Zhi, who had never once missed the holiday before, was absent. That absence stretched into eleven long years. Even today, on an occasion as monumental as his younger son’s wedding, Chen Zhi had not returned. Sorrow was inevitable for the elderly couple, particularly for Chen Xingzhou, who secretly blamed himself for having spoken so harshly to his son all those years ago.

Two years after Chen Zhi lost contact, urged on by his younger son Chen Yiming, Chen Xingzhou went to the local public security bureau to file a missing person report. However, Huaxia was vast, and missing person cases occurred across the country in the thousands every year. Although the police officially opened a case, searching for a missing individual is an immensely complicated endeavor. Trying to locate a single person among a population of over a billion was akin to searching for a needle in a haystack. Furthermore, G City—where Chen Zhi resided—was a densely populated metropolis with an enormous floating population, making the search for an out-of-towner even more arduous. Consequently, Chen Zhi’s case was eventually shelved.

Over the years, Chen Xingzhou never abandoned his search for Chen Zhi. Yet neither of the old couple possessed any formal education, and the farthest they had ever traveled in their lives was to the nearby city a few times to accompany their sons to university. For all these years, the landline phone in their home remained unchanged, the elderly pair terrified that Chen Zhi might suddenly call one day and find the number disconnected or unreachable.

Thus, to the eyes of Chen Xingzhou and his wife, the joyous wedding scene was shrouded in an inescapable shadow, which explained why neither of them appeared particularly high-spirited when the photographer asked the family to pose for a portrait.

As his son, Chen Yiming was acutely aware of the knot in his parents' hearts. He shared an exceptionally close bond with his older brother Chen Zhi; since childhood, he had loved trailing behind Chen Zhi, and even his high school tuition and pocket money had been provided by his brother. Ever since graduating from university and entering the workforce, Chen Yiming had never stopped quietly inquiring about his brother’s whereabouts. Originally, he had intended to seek employment in G City, but fierce opposition from Chen Xingzhou and his wife forced him to remain in N City for work.

Chen Yiming knew precisely why his parents were so vehemently opposed to G City: they lived in constant terror that he, too, would vanish into that city just as Chen Zhi had, never to return.

———

Eleven years ago, during a harsh winter, the S City Public Security Bureau received an emergency report. A scavenger, rummaging through an abandoned snake-breeding farm in S City, had stumbled upon two black plastic bags containing a human hand and a human thigh. The scavenger had fainted on the spot the instant he opened the bags. Upon regaining consciousness, he scrambled to his feet and scurried in a panic to the nearest police substation to report the finding. Officers were immediately dispatched to the scene to conduct an investigation and search.

The officer in charge of the case at the time was Lu Ye, who was then the head of a local branch rather than the chief of the S City Public Security Bureau.

Upon arrival, the police rapidly cordoned off the area and examined the remains inside the plastic bags. Their initial inspection confirmed the scavenger's account: the bags indeed contained a human right hand and the upper portion of a left thigh. Expanding their search around the perimeter, investigators recovered two identical black plastic bags containing chunks of flesh and human bones. However, the fragments were so sparse that their anatomical origin could not be determined without detailed forensic analysis.

The police scoured the terrain meticulously, repeating their search until they had practically turned the soil over, yet no other body parts or tissues were recovered.

A detailed forensic examination of the retrieved remains revealed that all the body parts belonged to a single individual. Once pieced together, the findings yielded one relatively complete right hand and a mutilated thigh. All other recovered flesh had undergone advanced decomposition, rendering identification impossible.

Based on the autopsy, the forensic pathologist reached the following conclusions:

The deceased was a male between twenty and thirty years of age, standing approximately one meter seventy-three centimeters tall, and weighing around one hundred and thirty pounds. He was not a manual laborer. Beyond these details, the pathologist could glean no further clues.

The pathologist who examined the remains was none other than Sun Wenyao, who currently served as the chief forensic pathologist at the Provincial Public Security Department.

Sun Wenyao’s determination that the victim was not a manual laborer rested primarily on the state of the right hand’s fingers, which were largely intact. Individuals engaged in heavy physical labor typically develop distinct marks on their hands over years of toil, such as calluses and scars. In contrast, the victim’s right hand was remarkably clean and smooth, devoid of scars or calluses, and the fingernails were neatly and cleanly trimmed—hallmarks of someone engaged in mental or desk labor.

Since a corpse had been discovered, and moreover, dismembered, the circumstances clearly ruled out accidental death. Solving the case required, first and foremost, establishing the victim’s identity. Yet the police found no items at the scene capable of confirming who he was: no identity card, no employee badge, not even a scrap of clothing, presenting a formidable obstacle to the investigation.

The location—an abandoned snake farm—had stood derelict for several years. Once quite prominent, the enterprise had eventually collapsed due to poor management and a fractured capital chain, leaving the grounds deserted. Situated in a remote area near a wooded tract, the place was rarely visited by anyone. Consequently, aside from the scavenger who discovered the remains, there were no eyewitnesses. Furthermore, forensic estimates indicated that the victim had been dead for at least three to four months. Had it not been for the effective sealing of the plastic bags combined with the low ambient temperatures, the body would likely have long decomposed into a pile of bare bones.

Without eyewitnesses, a complete body, or a known origin for the remains, a swift breakthrough was impossible. Coupled with the fact that the location was merely a dumping ground rather than the primary crime scene, the difficulty of the investigation can be well imagined.

Consequently, the police initiated their inquiry by examining missing persons records. Given the relatively primitive investigative tools and techniques of that era, sorting through the vast pool of missing persons to pinpoint the victim’s identity proved immensely difficult. As time slowly elapsed, the police preserved the victim’s remaining body parts alongside his DNA profile, but the case remained unsolved—much like Xu Chan, the elder sister of Xu Lang, whose remains still rested in the morgue of the public security bureau.

Time flowed on, and in the blink of an eye, eleven years vanished. Lu Ye, who had once headed a local police branch, had risen to become the chief of the S City Public Security Bureau, while Sun Wenyao had transitioned from a municipal pathologist in S City to the chief forensic pathologist of the Provincial Public Security Department. Yet this headless murder case remained unsolved.

Throughout these years, Lu Ye had ordered renewed investigations into the murder case annually, but every attempt hit a dead end, yielding no new information.

———

Ever since the conclusion of the 1130 case, Ning Yanran and her team had returned to S City from Y City. Barely had they arrived when Lu Ye summoned Ning Yanran to his office.

Initially, Ning Yanran assumed Lu Ye wanted to commend the Second Major Crimes Investigation Team for successfully dismantling Wen Xuelan’s syndicate in such a short span of time. However, upon stepping into Lu Ye’s office, she noticed he was not seated behind his desk as usual. Instead, he sat on the sofa facing the coffee table, where a faxed document lay flat. Lu Ye wore a stern, unreadable expression, leaving her unable to tell whether he was pleased or displeased, which instantly set her nerves on edge.

"Could this be about Xu Lang?" Ning Yanran wondered internally as she walked toward the sofa.

"Chief, you wanted to see me?" After standing near the sofa for a moment without Lu Ye speaking, Ning Yanran broke the silence.

"Oh, Yanran, you're here. Sit down."

Hearing her voice, Lu Ye snapped out of his thoughts. He raised his head to look at Ning Yanran’s exhausted face, his tense expression finally cracking into a faint smile as he spoke.

After taking a seat, Ning Yanran glanced between Lu Ye and the fax resting on the coffee table before asking, "Chief, what is this about? Is it concerning Xu Lang, or has a new case come up?"

Hearing this, Lu Ye first shook his head, then nodded slightly. "My calling you here today isn't about Xu Lang, but it does indeed concern a case."

"Oh? What case?" Ning Yanran asked, looking somewhat surprised.

Under normal circumstances, routine criminal cases were easily handled by the First and Second Major Crimes Investigation Teams. Furthermore, as part of the Public Security Bureau headquarters, they had numerous local branches and substations beneath them. For an issue to elicit this specific expression from Lu Ye, it certainly could not be a trivial matter.

True to her intuition, Lu Ye stated, "I called you here to assign the Second Major Crimes Investigation Team to investigate a murder case from eleven years ago."

"A murder case from eleven years ago?" Ning Yanran repeated, her confusion deepening.

"Yes, an eleven-year-old murder case," Lu Ye nodded and confirmed.