The Cousin Arrives (The End)

Ever since he saw Qian Hui's ghost, Ah Feng had become unprecedentedly dependent on his protective amulet, though until tonight, he hadn’t realized just how much. But the moment he noticed the amulet was no longer on him, a terror unlike any he’d known seized him.

“Qian Hui, is that you? Qian Hui, is it you?”

Ah Feng’s voice suddenly rose, startling even himself. The thief in the next cell asked, “Hey, who are you talking to?”

A cold finger pressed against the center of Ah Feng’s forehead. He felt something gushing out from that spot—was it blood?

Ah Feng let out a piercing scream. Two guards rushed over at the sound. “What’s wrong with you?”

Peering through the bars, the guards glared at the men inside. They dared not unlock the door. Incidents had happened before—suspects faking illness, injuring the checking guards, and escaping from the holding cells.

So in such situations, the guards were extremely cautious.

But the man before them didn’t look ill. He was cowering in the corner, eyes wide open, staring in terror at the air in front of him.

“Hey, if you’re fine, stop shouting and behave!” the guards warned.

To the guards, Ah Feng was alone in this holding cell. But Ah Feng knew otherwise. That cold finger was still pressed to his brow, and his blood was still flowing.

“My blood, my blood is draining out! Help me! Call emergency! Now! So much blood!”

Ah Feng’s vision filled with red and white. The red was blood, but what was the white? Brain matter? Was his brain leaking out too?

“Ahhh—!” A second scream, even more harrowing.

The thief curiously ran to the bars. “He was fine just now. Maybe he’s got some kind of intermittent mental illness. I’ve heard mental patients can be perfectly normal and then suddenly turn violent.”

“Shut up, this doesn’t concern you!” a guard snapped at the thief, but his eyes never left Ah Feng.

Apart from that vacant, terrified stare, there was nothing visibly wrong.

“Call emergency! Hurry, call them, my brain is going to bleed dry!” Ah Feng roared. His head felt as if it were splitting open. He couldn’t see who was speaking to him—blood and brain matter obscured his vision. He shouted only from instinct.

The two guards exchanged glances and shook their heads. They were now certain: either this man was feigning madness, or he truly was mad.

They threatened again, “Shut up! No more noise!”

But Ah Feng no longer heard them. Another voice drowned out all else, invading his ears like a demonic chant.

“Wu Feng, do you not remember me? I’m Lin Asheng. I died here, in the holding cell. I’ve been waiting for you. At last, you’re here.”

Lin Asheng?

Through a haze of red and white, a face broke through before Ah Feng. He shuddered, suddenly remembering who Lin Asheng was.

The addict he’d found to take his place.

He remembered: Lin Asheng had died of withdrawal in the holding cell.

Yes, the holding cell—now Ah Feng was here too.

“It was Shi Jing! Shi Jing did this to you, not me!” The face before him vanished, but the red and white continued to flow, surging unstoppably.

Suddenly, all around fell silent. Every sound disappeared, including Lin Asheng’s voice. But the cold finger remained pressed to his brow, and the white and red liquid still poured from that spot.

Ah Feng shook violently as if caught in a chill. He reached out, clawing desperately at the air, as if to tear away the red-and-white curtain before him.

But all his efforts were in vain. The icy finger, like an ancient icicle, chilled him to the bone.

“It was Shi Jing who said we needed a scapegoat. She said everyone knew I was dating her. If the police found out I was the one who’d hit someone, they’d surely question the victim’s identity. I had no choice. And besides, you were dead drunk that night—if you hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have chosen you. If you want revenge, go after the one who got you so drunk, not me. I was forced into it too.”

The two guards stared, dumbfounded, at the muttering, delirious Ah Feng. Then one pointed up at the surveillance camera.

That night, Ah Feng spoke at length. He mentioned Lin Asheng, Shi Jing, Qian Hui, Wu Ying, and the driver who owed money to online lenders.

The next morning, Ah Feng finally regained his senses. When he awoke, he felt exhausted, his neck stiff and his head aching. He seemed to remember having a nightmare, but couldn’t recall the details. He thought nothing of it. Then, recalling the thief in the next cell, he frowned—hadn’t the thief been talkative before? Why was he so quiet now?

At that moment, He Lingyu was dashing about on errands, shopping from the north of town to the east, then south, then west. Oh, and where could she find free-range eggs?

After finally gathering everything Aunt Zhao and Shuimei had requested, He Lingyu sighed in relief—until she remembered Shuimei had asked her not to forget to pick up the mail when passing through town.

Rallying her spirits, she sang as she went, until she saw the mountain of parcels piled at the express station. It was as if someone had punched the wind from her—her energy vanished in an instant.

Indeed, there were thirty parcels—if you counted the washing machine and dryer as one.

Besides the washing machine, there were ten boxes of fruit and five bags of Wuchang rice, each twenty kilos!

He Lingyu nearly burst into tears.

...

Two weeks later, He Lingyu was tending Aunt Zhao’s succulents when her phone chimed—a video call invitation.

She accepted, and Zhou Xiaoyun’s excited face filled the screen.

“Big news—Chen Guifang has been arrested by the police, and in Shanghai, no less!”

He Lingyu merely hummed; she’d expected as much.

The one who had instigated Ah Feng to murder Wu Ying was none other than Chen Guifang, Zhang Baofu’s wife.

The people of the small town thought she was in the provincial capital, unaware that she had long since gone to Shanghai.

Zhang Baofu’s early rise was hardly honorable. In his teens, he’d been an errand boy for a smuggler. Later, he made money through illegal mining and smuggling of protected minerals. His three gold shops were just a front; what truly made him rich were his shady dealings in the shadows.

The townsfolk knew nothing of this, but Chen Guifang and her family were involved from the start.

Later, Wu Ying’s appearance shattered the relationship between Chen Guifang and Zhang Baofu, but their mutual interests were too entangled for divorce. Chen Guifang left for another city, while Zhang Baofu indulged her every financial need.

Yet, the bitterness in Chen Guifang’s heart remained unquenched.

Her family urged her to endure it for the money, but she could not.

She couldn’t take revenge on Zhang Baofu, but she could kill Wu Ying.

The more she thought about it, the more she believed that having Wu Ying die at her own brother’s hands would be the ultimate revenge.

The holding cell provided the police with surveillance footage from that night, and the two guards and the thief served as witnesses.

The police located the bar where Ah Feng had taken Lin Asheng. Though years had passed, luck was on their side—the bar owner’s wife had been a waitress back then, and Lin Asheng was a regular. When she later heard that Lin Asheng had run someone over, she was shocked. That night, she’d seen a handsome, gentle-looking young man take Lin Asheng away.

“That boy was good-looking, just like that singer—what’s his name? I even wanted to snap a photo to post online, but when he turned, I only caught his back.”

The owner’s wife pulled up her RED APP and soon found the photo she’d posted five years ago: a tall, thin youth dragging a drunken man. Because of the angle, only the youth’s back was visible, but the drunk’s face—half visible—was clearly Lin Asheng.

When police zoomed in on the photo, they noticed a red mole at the nape of the youth’s neck—a mole Ah Feng also bore in that exact spot.

Confronted with this evidence, Ah Feng confessed without reservation.

He had “found” the drunken Lin Asheng at the bar, hidden him in the trunk, and after killing Qian Hui, dragged Lin Asheng into the driver’s seat and pressed his fingerprints onto the steering wheel and handbrake.

Meanwhile, Shi Yini’s accident was also re-investigated. In that case, Ah Feng wasn’t the killer, but the mastermind.

Of course, the victim wasn’t Shi Yini, but Shi Jing.

The real Shi Yini was also a yoga instructor, but tragically, her parents had died in a flash flood while traveling. After their deaths, Shi Yini fell into a deep depression, tormented by pain and seeking only a quiet place to end her life.

During her travels, she met Shi Jing and Ah Feng. Because she and Shi Jing shared a surname, they talked more. Shi Jing noticed Shi Yini’s mental state was unstable, so she and Ah Feng kept her company, eventually stealing her ID. When Shi Yini drowned herself at sea, Shi Jing underwent plastic surgery to look like Shi Yini and returned to the small town with Ah Feng, where they opened a yoga studio.

Not long after, Wu Ying met Ah Feng. Fearing Wu Ying would reveal his secrets to her vampiric parents, he broke up with Shi Jing, left town, and returned alone to Shanghai.

Later, Ah Feng tried several times to extort money from Shi Jing, but the yoga studio earned little; finding no profit, he began seeking wealthy women—until Chen Guifang found him.