The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

The winter night was bitterly cold, with a chilling wind that felt like steel needles piercing through the skin, penetrating into the bones, freezing the blood into ice shards.

Ji Feng sat in his car, unable to keep the heating on continuously, so he wrapped himself in an extra blanket and closed his eyes to rest.

A few days ago, his phone had broken down. Although he quickly bought a new one nearby, he didn't have time to wait for the service center to open and reissue his SIM card due to time constraints, so he had to give up.

However, Yun Yun, who was attending university in the capital, called him every week. If she couldn't reach him for two consecutive days, she would definitely worry. She didn't have many people to ask; Lao Gao was one, but he wouldn't tell the truth. Nine times out of ten, she would ask Teacher Jian.

Teacher Jian... Teacher Jian had a bit of a temper.

With a good reason, she wouldn't mind initiating a conversation, but without one, it was "if you don't reach out to me, I won't reach out to you. Who do you think you are?"

A true princess attitude.

But she had the right to be proud.

Even if she wasn't interested, even with a standoffish expression, there were plenty of men willing to revolve around her, begging for her attention, for a chance to chat.

There was no help for it; society was just that realistic. Pretty girls never lacked suitors, and if they were both pretty and rich, it was even more extraordinary – seven out of ten men would be interested.

The remaining three prided themselves on not being shallow, thinking that while a beautiful appearance was nice, inner beauty was more important.

And Teacher Jian? Upright, kind, intelligent, brave... To say she had inner beauty would be an understatement; her very soul shone brightly.

So, to sum it up, whether you were vulgar and coveted beauty, or considered yourself discerning and demanding, the result was the same.

He had gotten distracted.

Given Teacher Jian's personality, as soon as Yun Yun called, she would certainly want to get to the bottom of things. Lao Gao wouldn't dare to fool her and might even let slip a word or two.

As long as she went to the office, Ji Feng was sure Teacher Jian would be able to find the key.

Once she had the key, she would undoubtedly curse him a hundred times or so, then go looking for the lock. If she remembered the school, the things wouldn't be hard to find. If she had forgotten about this matter... it might be better not to get involved.

Ji Feng couldn't decide whether he hoped she would find it or not.

To be honest, the matter of his father was quite delicate.

If the killer had been a vicious criminal, the sacrifice would not have been so hard to accept. Especially after becoming a police officer himself, Ji Feng was always prepared for the day he might not return.

His father must have thought about that day.

But was Zhang Peiru a ruthless villain?

No, she wasn't.

In 2007, Ji Feng was already in high school, and he even remembered his father mentioning this case.

Ji Liming was full of sympathy for Zhang Peiru and spoke of it with great regret.

"In March, she came every day, without fail. She sought me out, sought out Old Tan, Old Huang. In April, when the leaders came down for an inspection, as soon as they got out of the car, she was kneeling there, crying 'injustice' with every breath, swearing to heaven that Wu Honglin would never kill anyone, begging us to continue investigating, to clear her husband's name."

With his daughter still young and his wife already passed away, Ji Liming felt suffocated and could only confide in his precocious son.

He said, "Xiao Feng, I'm not sure about this, you know?"

At that time, Ji Feng was still quite immature and immediately retorted to his father, "Is Wu Honglin really the killer or not?"

Ji Liming asked in return, "If it's not him, then who could it be? People don't just die by themselves, and the killer couldn't have committed the crime and then dropped dead, could they?"

Ji Feng: "Maybe the fifth case was a copycat."

Ji Liming shook his head: "That's unlikely. The same method of disposing of the body, the same type of diesel fuel, female victims of about the same age."

Ji Feng: "What are you suspicious about?"

Ji Liming: "The motive. If you say it was for money, truck drivers don't earn much, but if he wanted to commit a crime, why come back to Peace City? He could have done one job out of town and run, who could have found him? But if you say it was for the person..."

He shook his head and said, "His relationship with his wife doesn't seem fake."

"Do you want to reopen the case?" Ji Feng asked casually. "Even if you want to, they probably won't agree."

Unsolved murder cases were not good for KPIs. Back in 2003, the police responsible for the case, regardless of their position, were all berated like children. But when they couldn't solve it, they just couldn't solve it. Even if the whole team was disciplined, there was nothing they could do.

This time, they finally had a lead and made an arrest. Although the sudden death was unexpected, to reopen the case, forget about what colleagues and superiors might think, did they have any evidence?

Without new evidence, talking about reopening the case would be insane.

Ji Liming only sighed at home, then went back to work as usual. There were other cases, not just this one, with other cases lining up waiting.

However, many years later, when Ji Feng thought about it, he still regretted it.

Even if they couldn't reopen the investigation, if only Ji Liming could have revealed a thing or two to Wu Honglin's wife, he might not have been stabbed to death on the street.

Being killed by a small, thin woman with a knife, what kind of end was that?

Was it the frustration of being revenged upon, or the retribution for wronging an innocent person?

And as a son, what could Ji Feng do? The criminal was subdued on the spot, the court passed sentence, and she accepted her punishment, serving more than ten years in prison.

As a police officer who studied and understood the law, he couldn't seek revenge like the killer, could he?

But to swallow this anger was simply impossible.

Ji Feng thought that the only thing he could do for his father was probably to uncover the truth. If it really was Wu Honglin, he could tell Zhang Peiru straightforwardly that she had killed his father in error, that he had done nothing wrong.

If it wasn't... then it would be up to him, as the son, to uncover the truth for his father, to complete what he had left unfinished.

However, the case wasn't so easy to investigate.

Although there were some news reports online, they all omitted key clues. To reconstruct the case, he would need to access the original case files from that year and examine the few pieces of physical evidence that remained.

This could only be done after becoming a police officer.

In the third month of his internship, Ji Feng was named for transfer to the branch office due to his outstanding performance in handling cases. He first spent half a year in the public security squadron, and then was transferred to criminal investigation, where he had remained for all these years.

He pieced together bits and pieces, slowly getting in touch with the people and events of that year, only to find that the case was even more tricky than he had imagined.

First, there was too little physical evidence.

The bodies had been burned, destroying all traces of the killer. It was even difficult to determine if there had been sexual assault. For Wang Zihui and Li Xiaonuan, whose bodies were relatively intact, the use of condoms meant no semen was left behind, and any hair that might have fallen was burned away, leaving nothing to investigate.

Then, there were three unidentified victims.

In serial killing cases, the first victim is crucial. In the Ice and Snow Corpse case, the killer had gone to great lengths to switch the order in which the bodies appeared to cover up his relationship with his wife.

The first three victims were burned beyond recognition, making it impossible to identify them. They didn't match any of the reported missing persons cases, and to this day they remain Jane Doe No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3.

Finally, there was the question of who the killer really was in Li Xiaonuan's case.

This was the most important breakthrough point, and also the key case that locked in Wu Honglin.

He had copied all the testimonies to take home, looking at them whenever he had free time, but still couldn't reach a conclusion. So later, he changed his approach, not focusing solely on the original records, but looking for new evidence himself.

If a problem is missing key information, no amount of effort will produce an answer. Not everyone can pull off the kind of novel-like deductions that Teacher Jian does.

Teacher Jian... Teacher Jian should have gotten the things by now, right?

What would she do?

Without a doubt, she would go looking for Zhang Peiru. Thinking about it, Ji Feng couldn't help but smile slightly.

*

Jian Jing looked at the verdict, thinking Zhang Peiru was still in prison, but when she called, she was told that Zhang had already been released. Counting the time, it had only been a little over half a month.

This made things difficult.

After much consideration, Jian Jing decided to try her luck at the Anju Residential Community. This was where Wu Honglin and Zhang Peiru had lived. Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye, and the already run-down community looked even more dilapidated.

The buildings were dim and lackluster, with bicycles, cars, and electric scooters parked in a mess. The old man guarding the gate had his eyes closed, listening to Peking opera on the radio, completely ignoring people coming and going.

With such chaos, asking the property management would probably be useless.

Jian Jing had no choice but to walk into a nearby real estate agency, pretending to look for a house. The young agent was extremely enthusiastic, saying he had several rental properties available, and she could have whatever type she wanted.

"Let me take a look first," she said, pointing at the Anju Residential Community. "Are there any vacant apartments there?"

"Yes, yes," the young man said, grabbing some keys and leading her over.

On the way, Jian Jing finally revealed her intentions: "Do you have listings for all the rental properties in this community?"

"Yes, our company handles this entire area."

Jian Jing took out two yuan notes and asked, "I'd like to know if a middle-aged woman, around fifty years old, with the surname Zhang, has recently rented a house in this area?"

The young man was taken aback.

"She might have a preference for Building 4," she added three more notes and used her trust card, "Is there anyone like that?"

The real estate agent rubbed his hands together, not questioning her motives, and said, "What a coincidence, I actually do know about such a person. Half a month ago, I received a middle-aged lady who specifically requested the east-facing apartment on the third floor of Building 4. But that one was already rented out. Only the sixth floor had a vacant apartment with the same orientation, so she rented that one. And yes, her surname was Zhang."

Jian Jing handed him the money.

"Miss, I don't want the money. Let's add each other on WeChat and be friends instead," the young agent said.

Jian Jing casually opened her WeChat and let him scan her code.

The agent happily added her and left, beaming with joy.

Jian Jing thought to herself: It's not my real account anyway.

The old residential complex had no elevator. She climbed to the sixth floor, worried that no one might be home when she knocked.

To her surprise, the door opened immediately after knocking.

"Who is it?" The person answering the door was an elderly woman. She should be only in her early fifties, but she looked like she was in her sixties, with severely grayed hair.

However, she was neatly dressed, clean and tidy – a lean and agile woman.

Jian Jing smiled and asked, "Are you Ms. Zhang Peiru?"

"Are you from the community?" Zhang Peiru's attitude was neither particularly good nor bad.

Jian Jing asked, "May I come in?"

Zhang Peiru wasn't particularly wary of the young girl and stepped aside to let her in.

Jian Jing looked around. The furnishings were sparse, with hardly anything there. In the kitchen, there was only a small pot boiling some white noodles with two small pieces of bok choy.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm a writer who specializes in crime and mystery stories," Jian Jing had prepared her excuse. "I'm also very interested in real-life cases and enjoy investigating the details and hidden stories behind them."

Zhang Peiru frowned and said stiffly, "Then you've come to the wrong person."

Jian Jing smiled and said, "Please, let me finish. I'm not interested in your case, but rather in the serial killing case that your husband was involved in. It remains unresolved to this day, doesn't it?"

After a brief pause, she went straight to the point, "Ms. Zhang, I don't believe your husband is the killer. I want to investigate this case."

Zhang Peiru was stunned.

She appeared slightly defensive, disbelieving, and apprehensive: "Is that so?"

Jian Jing put on the air of a young lady from a wealthy family, nodding gracefully and continuing, "Of course, I wouldn't disturb your peace for nothing. I'm willing to pay you for your time. Please name your price."

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