Chapter Eighty-Two: The Bedelan

On the other side, at some indeterminate moment, the drunken man from earlier had also drawn near, now standing just a dozen steps away. There was no trace of intoxication in his eyes; instead, they shone with a piercing intensity that cut through the night. Glancing back, Xu Ge noticed that the man emerging from the back seat of the car seemed vaguely familiar. Suddenly, the gold chain one of the men wore caught the streetlight and flashed.

A chill surged through Xu Ge, as if ice water had flooded his veins. He seized Hua Sheng’s arm and cried out, “The debt collectors are here—run!”

But Hua Sheng stared at him, expressionless, his feet rooted to the spot. Xu Ge tugged again, but Hua Sheng remained immobile, like a statue anchored to the earth.

Xu Ge was stunned, then comprehension dawned on his face. “You’ve set me up with the debt collectors? But what’s the point? I’ve got nothing left—killing me won’t get them their money.”

“Xu Ge, they’re not loan sharks.”

Xu Ge’s confusion deepened. If they weren’t here for debts, why had they come, and why had they beaten Hua Sheng so badly?

There was no time to think. Xu Ge took several steps back, his eyes darting around for any avenue of escape. But the place where they stood was a dead end.

As the gold-chained man strode purposefully toward him, Xu Ge’s mind raced.

Suddenly, realization struck like a jolt of electricity. The cruel truth shattered him. He screamed, voice hoarse, “It’s all fake? This whole thing is a lie! These people are police? They're here to arrest me?”

Hua Sheng stepped toward him. “Xu Ge, they know everything now. It’s over.”

“But do they have evidence I killed someone?”

Hua Sheng rolled up his sleeve, revealing a microphone. Every word spoken had been recorded, their entire conversation captured. Perhaps not enough for a courtroom conviction, but more than sufficient for interrogation.

Xu Ge’s stomach twisted with anxiety—a physical reaction to overwhelming fear. He remembered the knife tucked at his waist, the weapon he had carried for self-defense. Not long ago, he had thought to use that knife to protect someone, to fight the debt collectors to the death.

But these 'collectors' weren’t who he thought they were. Or perhaps they had colluded with the creditors from the start, setting a trap to coax the truth from his lips.

“You betrayed me!” Xu Ge screamed, drawing the knife. Its blade gleamed menacingly under the lights.

The man with the gold chain and the plainclothes officers instantly threw themselves between Hua Sheng and Xu Ge. Gold Chain glanced back at Hua Sheng. “Hua Sheng, you’ve suffered these six months.”

Hua Sheng pushed past the officers, moving forward. “Xu Ge, don’t go any further down this path. Go with them.”

“You won’t take me!” Xu Ge’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared, “This is my fate. If fate has come for me, I won’t run!”

He advanced with the knife. As the group instinctively stepped back, Xu Ge suddenly reversed the blade and plunged it toward his own heart. The plainclothes officers lunged at him, but in that split second, Xu Ge had already withdrawn the knife. Blood sprayed several meters, even splattering onto Hua Sheng’s face.

The delicate skin and fine hairs on his face instantly registered the scalding heat of the blood. Hua Sheng cried out, “No!” and rushed forward.

Xu Ge was pinned to the ground by the officers, while Gold Chain pressed his hands firmly over the wound in Xu Ge’s chest. But the blood surged between his fingers like water from a high-pressure hose.

“You can still atone! Why choose death!” Hua Sheng shouted.

Some choose death not because they lack choices, but because they refuse to make them. Suicide often demands a courage far greater than facing what must be faced. So those who take that step must have someone—or something—worth dying for, and reasons unknown to others.

Xu Ge, feeling his time drawing short, used the last of his strength to pull a phone from his pocket and pointed to the screen. “Hua Sheng, help me with one last thing. This is a cruise booking. Both my sisters will be there. You must find them…”

Hua Sheng could not refuse such a request.

Xu Ge continued, “You must tell them this number on the cruise—991248… Remember it, you have to go!”

“991248.”

Hua Sheng silently repeated the number. “What does it mean? What should I say to them?”

Xu Ge did not answer. His gaze sharpened one final time, and he cried out, “You don’t understand! You don’t! I had to kill her! I had no choice—if she didn’t die, many, many people would! I couldn’t let so many suffer for nothing!”

Hua Sheng was stunned. “What are you saying? What happened? Why would so many die?!”

But there would be no more answers from Xu Ge.

Several days had passed since that night when Xu Ge ended his own life.

The memory of the fine rain that night still floated before Hua Sheng’s eyes. The warmth of human blood spattering his face lingered in his mind, never fading.

It was the first time in his life he had witnessed someone die before his eyes. The instant a person’s pupils lost their luster struck him with such force that he could not forget it.

“To live is to do something for this world, however trivial it may seem.”

He had believed this since his days in the orphanage.

So when Officer Zhang Yongren, whom he had known for years, mentioned suspicions that a supposed fall was actually murder, Hua Sheng had volunteered to get close to the suspect.

Officer Zhang was the man with the gold chain.

Hua Sheng never thought of himself as gifted. For him, anything worth doing was worth full effort—not out of ambition, but because that was simply the way of things. In this world, even if you prepare perfectly, you may only achieve a fraction of your goal. If you prepare only a little, you will almost certainly fail. Only superhuman effort and preparation offer a chance at success.

He understood that effort does not guarantee reward; no one can promise perfection. The unknowns are too many. There is no such thing as a hundred percent certainty. All one can do is improve the odds as much as possible.

Five months later, Officer Zhang received a call from Hua Sheng. Hua Sheng said he had taken a leave of absence from university and had worked at Xu Ge’s company for several months. He believed he could get Xu Ge to open up.

But more was needed—a final push, a bit of theater.

What Hua Sheng did not say was that this theater required his own blood. He used his own pain to win Xu Ge’s trust and confession, so the case could find some resolution, however incomplete.

Though it was not a happy ending—if it could even be called an ending.

The wound that had required more than a dozen stitches still ached dully, but Hua Sheng paid it no mind. For him, all that had happened so far was the “cause”; what came next would be the “effect” he had to bear and complete.

And so, he now stood at the cruise terminal.

Before him loomed the colossal white vessel, the “Bedelan,” nearly ninety thousand tons, exuding a romantic aura reminiscent of Italy. The pier was teeming with thousands of travelers, each dragging heavy suitcases, preparing to board.

It was said that the cruise line had operated since the 1950s, one of the oldest in the world, run by an Italian family. Every staff member was smartly dressed, experienced, and efficiently guiding passengers aboard.

Hua Sheng glanced back at the surging crowd. Xu Ge’s two sisters should be among them. He unlocked his phone and looked at the six digits: 991248.

He had speculated endlessly over the meaning of those numbers. Maybe Xu Ge had left an inheritance for his sisters, and those digits were the account password. But if that were the case, why insist on delivering the message aboard the ship?

Even more puzzling were Xu Ge’s last words. If he hadn’t killed his wife for insurance money, then what was his true motive? The classic story of a failed businessman killing his wife for a payout had, with one dying utterance, become a deep and unsettling mystery.

If he killed his wife to save others, what did he mean by “many people will die”? What was really going on?

Officer Zhang had investigated Xu Ge’s wife’s background multiple times through police records. She appeared to be an ordinary girl from an ordinary family, unremarkable in looks or achievements. Her academic performance was average throughout school, and she graduated from a second-tier university before working for a small company. Xu Ge’s company was a prospective supplier for that firm; they had met by chance at a proposal meeting. Xu Ge’s business was too small to win the contract.

An average urban woman, plain in appearance and career, marrying a rural man and ending up the victim of murder. Tragic, yes, but hardly the sort of event that could lead to mass casualties.

Officer Zhang had been present at Xu Ge’s death and had heard his final words clearly. With years of experience, he formed his own view.

“From a psychological perspective, when people err, they look for external reasons—it's human weakness. Children blame poor test scores on distractions or bad teaching. Adults blame unfinished work on uncooperative colleagues or lack of resources. People always look for excuses. So, after suffering massive blood loss and wracked by guilt, Xu Ge may have been hallucinating as he died, spouting some confusing last words to justify his crime.”

It was a plausible explanation, yet given Xu Ge’s dying request, Hua Sheng still felt compelled to meet his sisters. With today’s forensic and policing technology—nationwide databases and facial recognition—it would not be difficult to find them. Their kinship was registered; they weren’t hiding. In fact, Officer Zhang had every reason and means to find the sisters and arrange a meeting.

But Hua Sheng insisted on following Xu Ge’s instructions: to seek out the sisters at the designated place and time, to deliver the numbers in person and unravel the mystery face to face. He sensed that the cruise booking Xu Ge showed him before death was of vital importance. If he didn’t come here now, he might never learn the truth.

Officer Zhang paid out of his own pocket to book the cruise for Hua Sheng and, through an agency, found the sisters’ cabin numbers.

“Hua Sheng, I owe you for this past half year. Never thought we’d have to rely on a kid for something like this. The higher-ups have criticized me—and that bottle was fake, you know. Didn’t expect you to really smash your head that hard!”

“Just treat this cruise as a vacation. I’d have come with you, but my daughter, Jiajia, was diagnosed with lymphocytic disease a few months ago and hospitalized. My wife has been with her while I worked, but now I have to take my turn. I’m really sorry.”

Before boarding, Hua Sheng checked the numbers on his phone once more. Still, no answers.

The cabin numbers Officer Zhang provided were for third-class cabins. After stowing his luggage and getting settled, the ship had already set sail for the East China Sea. Hua Sheng stepped onto the deck, where the damp, salty sea breeze greeted him.