Chapter 50 [VIP] Man-Eating Flower (9)

Chapter 50 [VIP] Man-Eating Flower (9)

In the interrogation room of the detention center, Jin Yaming, dressed in prison garb and shackled, was led to a seat by a guard.

Jin Yaming's face bore signs of hardship; his naturally curly hair looked dirty and disheveled. However, Meng Siqi noticed that his eyes were not at all evasive—there was no sign of remorse, only a chilling determination in his bloodshot eyes.

As the lead interrogator, Meng Siqi asked directly, "Jin Yaming, you said you want to confess to the murder of Fu Songan?"

"Yes," Jin Yaming replied, tilting his head slightly to the side, his posture leaning slightly to the right, but his tone was firm.

"Why didn't you mention it before?" Normally, this wasn't part of the procedure, but Meng Siqi genuinely wanted to understand his mindset, even if he wouldn't tell the truth.

"I just remembered," Jin Yaming said with a hint of disdain.

Zhao Leiting, who was taking notes, slammed his pen down on the table, making a loud sound in the quiet room—a clear sign of frustration and a warning to Jin Yaming.

Meng Siqi decided not to press further on his reasons for confessing and instead proceeded formally, "Jin Yaming, please describe the entire process of murdering Fu Songan. Everything you say will be used as evidence in court!"

Jin Yaming seemed to ignore her words, remaining silent for several seconds before speaking slowly, "I don't remember exactly which day it was. It was raining heavily, and I missed Xinran, so I went to her workplace."

He paused, his expression changing from earlier; his brows lowered, and his eyes darkened with sadness. "Suddenly, I saw a girl running through the rain, crying. I realized it was Xinran. I ran over and hugged her, asking what happened."

The heavy rain drenched Song Xinran, her hair tangled like leeches on her face, and her clothes torn as if she had been assaulted, barely hanging on her body. She looked like she had narrowly escaped from a monster.

Jin Yaming held her tightly, his beloved, whom he never wanted to see hurt.

"Xinran, tell me, who did this? Who hurt you?"

Song Xinran sobbed uncontrollably in his arms, her cries mingling with the rain. In Jin Yaming's heart, her tears felt like knives piercing his chest.

Fuming with rage, he knew without asking who the culprit was. He shouted, "Was it Fu Songan? That beast?"

"Wah... wah..." Song Xinran continued to cry.

Jin Yaming gripped her shoulders, lifting her up, and said through gritted teeth, "I'll go kill him! I'll kill him!"

He placed her under a shelter and ran off, leaving behind Song Xinran's cries of "Yaming, no, Yaming!"

Jin Yaming burst into the half-closed studio. The workday had ended, and Fu Songan was resting in his chair, the dim light suggesting he was savoring the aftermath of raping Xinran.

Jin Yaming quickly grabbed a scalpel from the dissection table and plunged it into Fu Songan's chest before he could fully react.

Fu Songan struggled against the table, trying to fight back, but his evil face slowly faded as the blade pierced his chest.

Fu Songan died, and Jin Yaming was terrified. He had killed Fu Songan, yet he felt exhilarated, knowing he did it for Xinran. He had no regrets.

At that moment, Song Xinran entered, drenched and dripping water onto the floor. Seeing Fu Songan lying in a pool of blood, she grabbed Jin Yaming hysterically, "You killed him? Are you crazy?"

She cried and screamed, and Jin Yaming held her tightly, carrying her to Fu Songan's car and driving her home. Even there, Song Xinran persisted, "You know he has an international conference tomorrow. Everyone knows. Go turn yourself in, Yaming!"

Jin Yaming gripped Song Xinran's trembling hands, "Listen to me, listen. Nothing happened today. Fu Songan will leave for his trip tomorrow. When you wake up, everything will be normal."

He closed the door, turned, and walked into the rainy night. That night, he placed Fu Songan's body in the trunk and dumped it into the Sujiang River. Returning to the studio, he cleaned up the blood, fingerprints, and footprints, then changed into Fu Songan's clothes, including his underwear.

Using scissors, he trimmed his curly hair. In the morning, he took Fu Songan's ID, passport, and notebook, hailed a cab, and went to the airport.

As Jin Yaming narrated, his emotions fluctuated intensely. He showed sorrow and pain when describing Xinran's assault and anger and fury when recounting Fu Songan's murder. He also displayed a hint of excitement and satisfaction.

Everything he did was perfect. If he hadn't confessed, the police would have never caught him.

Finally, Jin Yaming said calmly, "I love Song Xinran. I confessed to clear her of suspicion. She is a kind and innocent girl. I don't want her to be hurt or suspected."

After hearing his confession, Meng Siqi doubted the reality of the scenes she had seen. There were no clues pointing to Song Xinran, and Jin Yaming's account seemed to perfectly recreate the scene. She thought her mentor and Zhao Leiting might also be swayed.

Meng Siqi didn't focus on their expressions but asked, "Jin Yaming, when did you meet Song Xinran, and when did you fall in love with her?"

"We've known each other since childhood. I can't remember when I fell in love with her."

This conflicted with the information Meng Siqi had gathered, which indicated they were college classmates. However, it was common for people to focus on recent connections.

"So you followed her to college. When did you become boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"We've always been close, but not in the way you think. We've always been good together. I love her, and she cares about me. That's enough."

Jin Yaming's description was vague, reminiscent of how Song Xinran had described their relationship.

"Why didn't you dispose of Fu Songan's clothes this time?" Meng Siqi asked, referring to how Hu Dingxiang's clothes were buried.

"It was my first time killing someone, and I was nervous. I visited the riverbank multiple times afterward, worried his clothes would surface. Later, I learned how to handle it."

After concluding Jin Yaming's interrogation, Meng Siqi remained silent on the way back. She realized the terrifying nature of human hearts, more frightening than hell itself. How many flawless lies like this existed in the world?

Fu Songan was dead, now with a new identity: a rapist who preyed on students and assistants. His wife was struggling to raise their young daughter. How would she feel upon hearing this news?

When the case was made public, how would Fu Songan's community, school, hometown, family, colleagues, and friends view him?

He was indeed dead, vanished, perhaps becoming sediment at the bottom of the Sujiang River. Did death justify defamation?

Thinking about this weighed heavily on her mind. Perhaps it was the weight of the badge that brought this burden. If Jin Yaming's confession became evidence, the true killer would escape justice, and the victim's injustice would remain unresolved.

Three days later, the case involving Song Xinran seemed unsolvable. Zhao Leiting had stopped mentioning it, and Feng Shaomin hadn't contacted her. Jin Yaming's confession seemed to have sealed the case.

The relevant officers were following up on the case, and Pan Chun should have learned of her husband's fate. Meng Siqi didn't dare to imagine her feelings.

Once a promising young professor, Fu Songan's disappearance had turned him into a mystery. It was unclear whether the rape allegations would cause a stir. Jin Yaming had not yet been tried, and Meng Siqi believed such news had not yet spread.

That afternoon, Wen Huizhi from the Shixin Evening News called to invite Meng Siqi for tea. While the invitation was a pretext, Meng Siqi sensed she was seeking information. However, she remembered that the newspaper was still suspended, and Wen Huizhi had been suspended too.

Wen Huizhi mentioned, "I know some things about Fu Songan," which piqued Meng Siqi's interest, and she agreed to meet.

It was a tea restaurant, close to the police station. Wen Huizhi had taken a taxi and arrived early. Seeing Meng Siqi enter, she immediately stood up, smiling and waving.

Today, Wen Huizhi wore a rather plain down jacket, different from her previous sharp red suit. She seemed to have changed a lot.

A simple scarf wrapped around her neck remained on, and Meng Siqi felt that she was trying to cover a scar there.

Her face no longer carried the arrogance and confidence of before; instead, it showed signs of weariness. Her once radiant skin had dulled, and her red lips had faded. It seemed she was changing, or being changed.

After Xin Tianfei's family massacre, Meng Siqi had followed the subsequent reports in the Shixin Evening News, especially those about Wen Huizhi. After that incident, Wen Huizhi seemed to have disappeared. Meng Siqi had thought she would not continue reporting news but would remain a journalist.

"Officer Meng, it's been a long time. I've missed you so much." Wen Huizhi was very enthusiastic, seemingly wanting to shake her hand but then hesitated, unsure where to put her hands.

"Hello, Journalist Wen. It's been a long time," Meng Siqi responded with a smile.

"Let's sit inside. The owner here is familiar with me, so it's convenient to talk." Wen Huizhi led her to a private room, which was quiet with a small window overlooking the street.

Wen Huizhi maintained a smile, her eyes full of affection for Meng Siqi.

She asked about Meng Siqi's recent well-being and work, making polite conversation.

Meng Siqi answered each question, reducing the initial awkwardness between them.

As they talked, Wen Huizhi's mood gradually became somber. Her gaze was sincere. "Officer Meng, you helped me last time, and I'm truly grateful. Speaking of this, I owe you an apology... In fact, I've been reflecting on my actions, on what I did before."

Meng Siqi did not respond. Wen Huizhi had made mistakes in her report on Xin Shu and deserved punishment, though not to the extent of breaking the law. However, as a detective, her duty was to protect victims, even if their morals were questionable.

Wen Huizhi spoke gravely, "Thinking back, I published many false reports, filled with subjective speculations. I didn't consider the feelings of the people involved, only thinking of gaining traffic..."

Her eyes began to redden. "I can't forgive myself... Since the newspaper closed down, I've been pondering the purpose of my actions. I feel like I should have died in that case..."

Wen Huizhi stopped talking, genuinely repentant. No one could fully understand her feelings after facing death. Sometimes, a person's change requires a significant driving force, even a lesson learned through blood. This was evident in Wen Huizhi, who must have thought, if given another chance, she would never do foolish things again.

Given a second chance, Wen Huizhi would certainly have a moral and legal compass, one she would not cross, setting an example in the future.

Wen Huizhi said, "I want to find a job where no one knows me, but I don't know how to do anything else. Ever since college, when I chose journalism, I was destined to be in this field. I've thought a lot, and perhaps being a journalist is the only thing I can do. But please rest assured..."

She looked up at Meng Siqi with determination. "I will be a good journalist and won't make the same mistakes again."

Meng Siqi was pleased to hear this. Even if Wen Huizhi had not told her, it would have been fine. By sharing her thoughts, Wen Huizhi showed she wanted to truly change and hoped Meng Siqi could witness her transformation.

Meng Siqi nodded sincerely, also hoping to see her change.

While sipping hot drinks, Wen Huizhi took out a stack of papers from her bag and placed them in front of Meng Siqi. "Officer Meng, I know you're investigating Fu Songan's case... Don't worry, I won't interfere with your investigation."

Meng Siqi smiled and asked, "What are these papers?"

"When Fu Songan went missing last year, I reported on his story. However, I also investigated some things about him. Later, I stopped the follow-up reports, so I kept these drafts. There might be something useful for you here."