Chapter 132: The Funeral of a Hero

After Li Wenjia's arrest, the government held a solemn funeral for the fallen SWAT officers. I attended as well.

Rain fell gently that day. Uniformed officers stood silently in the drizzle, a row of black-and-white memorial portraits hanging in front of them. At the center was the kind, weathered face of Officer Ma.

He had served as a criminal investigator his entire life—and ultimately gave that life for the people.

Chief Sun's voice cracked as he took the microphone:"First bow!""Second bow!""Third bow!"

Then came the thunderous salute of gunfire.

Every officer raised their hand in unison to salute the urn draped in the Party flag. The air was heavy with grief and pride.

Beside me, Huang Xiaotao stood silently, her eyes brimming with tears. She bit her lip to keep them from falling. I knew she carried a deep guilt over her mentor's death. It would take her a long time to heal.

Wang Yuanchao, Wang Dali, Ye Shiwen, Lao Yao, Huang Xiaotao's father, and the innocent civilians Li Wenjia had hypnotized were all sent to psychological rehabilitation. I visited them a few times; their recovery was going well.

But one doctor told me, "The human brain is more complex than the most advanced computer. Once a hypnotic command is implanted, unless the hypnotist undoes it themselves, it can never truly be erased."

Fortunately, Li Wenjia was in custody. No one could activate the buried commands now. They could live normal lives again.

Still, I asked, "What if someone mimicked her voice?"

The doctor replied, "Unless they recite the exact trigger phrase with precision, nothing will happen. You can rest easy."

I wanted to believe him. Li Wenjia's family was gone, and this case was tightly classified by the authorities. No one outside should have a clue.

What I didn't expect was that one day in the near future, I'd face the Blue-Eyed Hypnotic Gaze again—stronger than ever—originating from the legendary Prairie Fox King!

A few days later, I received a visit from someone unexpected: the male teacher who lived next door to Li Wenjia. He'd been deeply unsettled since the police raid and wanted answers. After asking around, he learned I was a student at the school and came to find me.

He had a request: to see Li Wenjia one last time.

I hesitated. He said he'd pursued her for three years. They'd even shared a few meals, and he was convinced she had feelings for him—yet she always held back. To him, she was a puzzle, one that only made her more captivating.

I couldn't help but wonder how he'd feel if he knew his dream girl was a monster.

Still, he was so sincere that I finally agreed.

It was easy enough. Li Wenjia had been transferred to the city's psychiatric hospital. We went there on a weekend. Through the glass, we saw her being restrained by several nurses as they tried to force medication into her mouth.

She had completely lost her mind. Her hair was tangled, her skin ghostly pale. Vomit stains covered her hospital gown. A bandage covered the empty socket where her right eye used to be.

She kicked and screamed on the floor, her voice shrill like a child's: "Mommy! Brother! Help me!"

The male teacher broke into tears at the sight.

But to me, she was the lucky one. For what she'd done, even the harshest punishment wouldn't have sufficed. Yet now she was free from legal trial, locked in an institution instead of a prison.

As we left, the teacher turned to me. "Song Yang… can you please tell me what happened to her?"

I shook my head. "No. I can never speak of it."

He begged, even fell to his knees. But I hardened my heart and walked away.

For weeks afterward, the city was quiet.

Without Wang Dali around, school felt dull. I visited Huang Xiaotao now and then, though I wasn't good with words. I could only be there for her.

Still, something between us had changed. Having gone through life and death together, there was now a silent bond between us—unspoken, yet undeniable.

By November, Wang Dali and the others had recovered, and life began to return to normal. No matter how heavy the blow, time moves on.

Ye Shiwen wasn't held criminally responsible for killing Zhang Yan, but the university decided to act. After all, thirty thousand students had watched the act unfold. How could they accept a "murderer" still walking the campus?

His counselor called him in for a talk and gently persuaded him to withdraw. In the end, Ye Shiwen agreed.

On his departure day, Wang Dali and I accompanied him to the station. Having been through hell together, they shared a kind of unspoken brotherhood. Wang Dali helped carry his bags and offered encouragement the whole way.

Ye Shiwen looked drained, his spirit dulled by the ordeal.

Just before boarding, he joked, "Four years of college, and I end up getting kicked out. My old man's gonna kill me."

Wang Dali clapped him on the back. "So what? Bill Gates, Steve Jobs—neither of them finished college. A piece of paper doesn't define you. I believe in you, bro!"

Ye Shiwen grinned. "If you ever come to Taidong City, drinks are on me."

"No doubt!" Wang Dali said.

Ye Shiwen then turned to me, solemn now. "Song Yang, I owe you my life. One day, I'll repay you."

I smiled. "Come on. We're classmates. You don't owe me anything."

"No, I mean it. Without you, I'd be rotting in prison."

I just smiled. "I did what needed to be done. Now get on that train—it's about to leave."

After he left, Wang Dali muttered, "Man… life's unpredictable."

I met Ye Shiwen again years later. He'd become a successful entrepreneur. He said it was that ordeal that taught him the value of life—before that, he was just a spoiled rich kid.

By the way, his family owns a major cosmetics company. One of the country's most popular sanitary pad brands, Little Bear Doola, came from his father's factory. Ironically, that product later became a goldmine for me and Wang Dali.

A few days later, I got a call from an unknown number. It was Captain Xing of the city's third crime division, asking me to consult on a case.

I was puzzled—usually, Huang Xiaotao contacted me. Had her authority been stripped? Was she no longer allowed to handle criminal cases?

I asked, "Is Officer Huang unavailable?"

Captain Xing replied, "She's working on another case. This one's under my jurisdiction. It's not a big one—just happened this morning. But there's one part we can't make sense of, and I hoped you could lend your expertise."

He was extremely polite, so I agreed. "What kind of case?"

"Suspected poisoning," he said, "but we can't identify the toxin."

Poisoning? That piqued my interest. I'd recently concocted a chemical solution from an ancient forensic manual that could help with poison detection. Finally, I had an excuse to test it.

I packed my tools, called Wang Dali, and we headed out. On the way, he grinned. "Police escort! We're big shots now, huh?"

I glared at him. "Keep bragging like that, and I'll stop taking you to cases. Low profile, remember?"

It was his loose tongue that got me nearly thrown in prison when Li Wenjia framed me. All that "legendary detective" talk drew way too much attention.

Captain Xing himself came to pick us up. He was in his early thirties, dark-skinned, and rather handsome. On the drive, he briefed us:

"This morning, a young couple checked into a motel. In the middle of... you know, the woman started gasping and convulsing. The man thought she was just having an intense moment—until her body went cold. She was dead by the time he checked. He called it in immediately."

The forensic team confirmed it was poison. But they couldn't find the source. The couple ate the same food, drank the same water. Even the bottled water in the room had been shared.

Sure, a full autopsy would reveal the toxin—but that would take days. Captain Xing didn't want to lose momentum. That's why he called me in.