Chapter 32 09

Chapter 32 Part 09

Yu Wanying still remembered that Saturday afternoon. The sky was a leaden gray, and the air hung heavy and still.

During that period, she had been in a terrible mood, teetering on the brink of collapse.

Her mind wrestled with the decision to go to the library or stay home. On one hand, she truly didn't want to venture out in such dreadful weather; on the other, the library was her sole sanctuary—a haven where she could escape the malice of her family and classmates, a pure land where she could study in peace.

In the end, she mustered her strength, grabbed an umbrella, and set out. No matter how awful the weather, it would at least grant her a day of tranquility and freedom, unburdened by those terrible things. She could even delude herself, pretending that none of it had ever happened.

That sense of peace lasted until she encountered Chen Zhuo. After turning off her phone, they walked out together.

Yu Wanying didn't know what Chen Zhuo intended to tell her. She followed him in a daze, her steps light and disconnected, as if walking on cotton, until they reached the eaves outside the library.

By then, the rain had begun. Drops drummed on the roof, then coalesced into streams that cascaded down, forming a curtain of rain that isolated the two of them from the outside world.

Yu Wanying felt as if she were in a dream. The world was shrouded in a hazy mist, and the steady patter of rain filled the space, creating an ethereal sensation that heightened her anxiety and unease.

This was her first encounter with Chen Zhuo since he had dropped out of school. In just half a year, her once-familiar classmate had become a stranger—it was as if they inhabited two different worlds.

Chen Zhuo wore a loose denim jacket, appearing even more melancholic and gaunt than he had in class.

Facing the pale, frightened girl, Chen Zhuo spoke directly. His voice was calm and devoid of emotion as he revealed the full truth: “There’s no such thing as mind reading. They installed monitoring software on your phone and deliberately said highly targeted things. Once you realized your secrets were being spied on, they comfortably hid in the shadows, enjoying your breakdown.”

For a long time, Yu Wanying couldn’t process his words. They seemed to drift from a distant place, yet each one pierced deeply into her heart.

The slender girl could barely stand. She swayed precariously, opening and closing her mouth several times before finally regaining her voice.

“Is… is it really true?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. Her initial reaction was an inability to comprehend that anyone in the world could be so malicious.

Looking at Chen Zhuo, Yu Wanying even harbored a hint of doubt. She was reluctant to believe this sudden, unwelcome truth.

But soon, Yu Wanying realized it was all real. Chen Zhuo wasn’t deceiving her, nor did he have any reason to.

Then, an uncontrollable tremor swept through her body. Yu Wanying could no longer stand. She sank to the ground in disarray, hugging her knees and shaking uncontrollably.

She finally understood the origin of those sarcastic remarks, those sharp knives that had mercilessly stabbed at her heart.

They were her own private browsing history at night, her desperate pleas for help during moments of collapse, her anguished cries on social media.

And she had, with her own hands, unreservedly laid all of it bare before those people.

All her efforts to survive these past days had been reduced to a series of cruel jokes.

Upon realizing this, her first reaction wasn’t anger, but a profound sense of nausea and shame at having been so thoroughly manipulated. She also resented her own foolishness—how could she have remained so oblivious to something so obvious?

She felt as if she had died, her soul trampled underfoot. Her stomach churned violently, and she leaned against the nearby glass, retching, but nothing came out.

Tears burst forth like a dam breaking, blurring her vision and falling to the ground, mingling with the rain.

Chen Zhuo stood quietly by, silently observing her distress and pain. He uttered not a single word as she fell apart.

He watched Yu Wanying cry for half an hour, until her tears were almost spent.

“Th-thank you… for telling me this.” Though she was lightheaded from crying, releasing her emotions finally gave Yu Wanying the strength to stand. She looked up at the person before her and remembered she should thank him. Mid-sentence, a sudden thought struck her. “Then… did you drop out because…”

Chen Zhuo hummed in affirmation, his gaze drifting into the distance, as if recalling or perhaps evading something. “As you’ve surmised, what you’re experiencing now, I went through half a year ago.”

Yu Wanying was stunned, but she quickly understood with empathy that even though he spoke lightly now, back then, he must have endured far more—being wronged, expelled, and bearing it all alone.

She wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. She couldn’t even comfort herself; what capacity did she have left to comfort others?

Instead, Chen Zhuo asked her, “Now that you know the truth, what’s next? What do you plan to do?”

Yu Wanying fell silent. She knew clearly that telling her parents or teachers would be futile—she no longer trusted them.

Her voice thick with unshed tears, she cautiously asked, “If I take my phone to the police, will they believe what I say?”

Chen Zhuo wasn’t surprised by her question. He had considered that possibility himself, but the outcome had only brought further disappointment. He let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “That would only make you look more like a joke. You must have tried seeking help from others, haven’t you? You know how that ended.”

His voice was calm, yet his tone was resolute, concealing a deep despair.

“Reporting to the police is useless. They won’t dispatch officers or open a case for something so trivial. Even if, against all odds, a responsible officer came to investigate at the school, those people would destroy the evidence before you could find it.”

“Even if, by another one-in-a-million chance, the evidence remained and was successfully collected, they wouldn’t be afraid. At most, the police would criticize and educate them, because it’s just adolescent mischief.”

Listening to Chen Zhuo, her eyes widened, and her heart felt as if it were being torn apart. Why?

They had suffered such immense harm, covered in wounds, nearly consumed by pain, feeling as if they were dying—why could those who committed these evils get off scot-free without facing any real punishment?

Chen Zhuo’s eyes were devoid of emotion as he continued, “Even if, by another one-in-a-million chance, we collected all the evidence, prepared to go all out, and took it to court, what would it achieve? Don’t forget, we are all minors. Even if we won the case, they would at most offer us a perfunctory apology and pay a small fine.”

“I’ve scoured the legal codes, and there’s no clause that would fit this situation, no provision that could ensure they receive severe punishment or pay the price they deserve. What’s more, their families can afford excellent lawyers for them, while we would merely waste our money and energy, tormented and scarred by these matters.”

Chen Zhuo’s smile was bleak, almost self-mocking, as if mocking fate itself. “Even if we make this matter known to everyone, the only ones who will be ruined are us.”

At that moment, they were like a delectable feast, laid out on a table for others to consume. Those people gnawed at their hearts, biting until blood flowed, all while dissecting their very existence.

Yu Wanying no longer cared to know how infinitesimally small the chances were of achieving the justice they yearned for.

But why? Why should it be this way?

Those people were already in positions of power—why did they still need to ruin their lives?

At that moment, Yu Wanying’s tears flowed uncontrollably once more. Despair engulfed her entire being. In that instant, Chen Zhuo was her sole lifeline, her only companion on this hopeless path.

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Revenge. We can take revenge on them.” Chen Zhuo’s tone was as cold as ever, imbued with a fierce, do-or-die resolve. It was like a pronouncement from hell, yet utterly unwavering: “Since they ruined us, we won’t let them off easily.”

Yu Wanying was captivated by his conviction. Trembling, she asked, “How?”

Chen Zhuo looked at her, then pointed to her turned-off phone. “With this.”

“It’s the bait for fishing.” Chen Zhuo then explained, “They used it to hurt us. We can use it as a weapon to lure them in. This is a great opportunity. They don’t know yet that you’re aware they’re monitoring your phone. We can use that to set a trap for them.”

Yu Wanying instinctively shook her head. “How is that possible… They’re not fools. Luring them in won’t be easy.”

Chen Zhuo looked at her. “So, we need to make a sacrifice. Have you heard of the foot-in-the-door effect?”

She nodded slightly, recalling having read about it in a book.

It was a psychological term describing how one achieves a larger goal by making a series of smaller, escalating requests.

Chen Zhuo continued outlining his plan, his eyes slightly red as if blood were welling up within them. “You’ll need to make a sacrifice—expose your weaknesses and vulnerabilities to them, give them a taste of victory to make them arrogant. Then, little by little, lure them up the steps until they are utterly convinced and eager to uncover your most humiliating moments. That’s when our opportunity will come…”

Facing Yu Wanying, who was stunned and struggling to process everything, Chen Zhuo considerately gave her some time to digest it. As her expression gradually softened, he finally asked her:

“Now you can decide. Will you get a new phone, pretend nothing happened, continue being classmates with those beasts who hurt you, suffer in silence through your high school years, letting this become a lifelong pain and nightmare? Or will you join my revenge plan, stand with me, and fight for our own path to make them pay?”

At this point, Chen Zhuo paused, his gaze suddenly softening. He looked at the delicate girl before him, his tone gentler but even more alluring: “You need to think carefully. This is a point of no return. You must become a monster yourself, making them pay a heavy price, even their lives.”

The apple offered by the Devil is often the most irresistibly ripe one.

Yu Wanying stood under the library's eaves. On one side was a massive floor-to-ceiling window, its bright lights illuminating rows of bookshelves and a vast array of books—symbols of knowledge and civilization. On the other side was a world of pouring rain, dark and gloomy, where she could barely discern anything beyond five meters, only the endless curtain of rain.

The world was so vast, yet they stood alone, facing each other in this small corner.

Their bodies were intact, but their souls had already withered.

She suddenly felt as if, in this entire world, only the boy beside her shared her pain and suffering.

They were like two tiny butterflies struggling fiercely in the storm, trying to shake the world. The pain within threatened to tear them apart. They flapped their wings desperately, attempting to fight against fate, but could only let out soundless screams.

The rain grew heavier, and the sky darkened as if night had fallen.

Chen Zhuo waited quietly for her decision.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

She remained silent for a moment, then slowly turned, leaning her back against the brightly lit library, and gazed into the boundless, damp curtain of rain.

She had made up her mind. She could not forgive those who had inflicted such cruelty upon her, nor could she return to her former life as if nothing had happened.

The past pains were like a blazing inferno, scorching her, battling against the icy rain.

Lost in thought, she felt as if the entire world had suddenly fallen silent. She could no longer hear the traffic on the road, nor the sound of the rain—only the beating of her own heart.

Then, even her heartbeat faded away.

She felt enveloped in a silence like death.

For a moment, she even wished the world would perish with her.

Then, she heard her own unfamiliar voice, hoarsely, emerge from her throat: "I choose to make them pay."

.

The atmosphere in the interrogation room was suffocatingly quiet, with only the girl's voice recounting the case: "So, from that day on, we began carrying out an entrapment scheme."

"To lure them in, we needed sufficient bait. I pretended to find comfort in Chen Zhuo, falling in love. Secretly, we started sharing my phone, gradually laying out the bait."

"I pretended to continue struggling with the mind-reading issue while confiding in Chen Zhuo."

"Chen Zhuo also shared his own life troubles with me."

"We both acted pitiful," she said with a bitter smile. "Perhaps we didn’t even need to act—we were already pitiful."

"Wu Yingying seemed to relish this new storyline of ours because it took her by surprise. She had grown tired of the old scenarios. If I had a teenage romance, slept with a man, or even had an abortion, she could have escalated her humiliation and mockery of me."

As Yu Wanying spoke, she subconsciously hugged her arms tightly. Her face showed a numb indifference: "Following Chen Zhuo's plan, we exposed more of our privacy to them."

"Our conversations grew increasingly explicit, as if we were unable to restrain our passions. I even took photos of my underwear and sent them, leaving records of purchasing condoms on the phone. I could almost imagine Wu Yingying’s mocking expression when she saw those, how happily she would want to grind us under her heel."

"Everything proceeded according to the planned script. We agreed to meet last Sunday afternoon…"

Yu Wanying sneered: "We had no money for a hotel, and we had to hide it from the adults, so we couldn’t meet at home. Chen Zhuo said he knew a place."

"They… I knew they would go."

As Yu Wanying reached this point, Li Shang understood what those children had gone to do.

Children of that age were brimming with curiosity and gossip, and this satisfied their desire to pry.

They were eager to capture so-called "scandals," to expose their relationship with compromising photos and utterly ruin these two children’s lives.

But what they didn’t know was that Chen Zhuo and Yu Wanying had turned the tables by exploiting the evil in their hearts.

Luring them step by step into a carefully laid trap.

"We met up last Friday. Chen Zhuo took my phone and gave me an old one. He didn’t tell me the final location. He also said that regardless of whether the plan succeeded or not, what happened afterward would no longer involve me."

"The old phone was empty, with only one number saved. He told me that if the police wanted to question me alone or if I felt at risk of exposure, I should send a number to that contact. This morning, before you questioned me, I used the excuse of packing my bag to send the number."

So, after receiving the signal, Chen Zhuo made that call to the family.

The puzzle was now solved, and the timeline converged at this moment.

As for Chen Zhuo, he had likely anticipated this very situation and had already gone into hiding beforehand.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since the four students went missing. Were they still alive?

He Lin stared intently at Yu Wanying: "Did Chen Zhuo say how he planned to take revenge on the classmates who fell into the trap?"

Yu Wanying frowned in thought: "I asked him that too. I was afraid he might act impulsively and kill them directly. He told me he wouldn’t dirty his hands—he would make them face the consequences of their own actions."

In the city bureau’s command room, Director Chen watched the live feed from the interrogation room, his brow furrowed and his expression grave.

These children who had suffered psychological bullying were pitiable, and their experiences were heartbreaking. He felt for them.

The perpetrators’ actions were deeply sinful, and they deserved to pay the price.

But all of this could have been avoided.

If the school had not only superficial rules but had uncovered the truth earlier, if the teachers had not been negligent, had not been indifferent when students sought help, but had instead inquired carefully and handled matters fairly…

If parents had shown more concern for their children—whether by stopping the perpetrators’ evil deeds or by rescuing the victims from their suffering earlier, if legislation were more comprehensive, effectively protecting victims and ensuring perpetrators were punished, making them fearful rather than acting with impunity…

Perhaps this scene would not be unfolding now.

But things had reached this point. As police, they could not support vigilante justice.

No matter how heinous the students’ actions, in a society governed by the rule of law, kidnapping and murder were not the answer.

Moreover, if the situation continued to spiral further out of control, Yu Wanying and Chen Zhuo would also have to pay a heavy, irreversible price.

As police, they could not let things spiral further out of control.

Thinking this, Director Chen said: "Mobilize all available police forces in the city. We must find Chen Zhuo as soon as possible."