Chapter Fifty-Six: The Debt Collector

These questions were impossible to answer through the matchmaking agency’s proprietress; only by seeking out the men who had met with Lu Min could the truth be uncovered.

With the list in hand, the next step was to confirm the identities and contact details of these individuals. The proprietress had provided only names and ages—nothing more concrete. Until it became absolutely necessary, An Changpu and Qin Ruonan were reluctant to reveal too much about the nature of the case. According to her descriptions, most of these men were locals of County T. This was not a bustling metropolis; should baseless rumors begin to circulate—about “transvestites,” about murder and dismemberment—it would be nothing short of a disaster for any man who had met Lu Min through matchmaking.

Even if they had no connection to Lu Min’s death, or were utterly unaware of his true gender and identity, once talk began, there’d be no way to clear their names. The collective tongue is a sharp blade, and slander can destroy utterly—such cases were countless since ancient times.

As investigators, An Changpu and Qin Ruonan certainly did not want to drag innocent bystanders into this quagmire before reaching any conclusion.

Thus, list in hand, they followed Xiao Wei back to the County T Public Security Bureau, where they cross-referenced the names in the household registration database. There were nine names; one was simply nonexistent, but the other eight were quickly identified by age, marital status, and other markers.

“You two go find these eight. We’ll handle the remaining one. It’s the best way—saves time,” Xiao Wei said, noting that someone had apparently used a false name to seek a match, which increased their workload. He glanced at the clock; it was getting late. “Are you going back and coming again tomorrow, or…?”

“No need to worry. We were prepared to ‘camp out’ when we came,” An Changpu replied with a half-joking smile, sharing their plan. After thanking Xiao Wei for his assistance, he and Qin Ruonan left the police bureau, ready to track down the eight men who had met Lu Min.

While gathering information on these men’s addresses, Xiao Wei printed them a map of County T and marked the general locations, making it easier for them to find their way around this unfamiliar county town.

By the time they left the bureau, evening had already fallen. They pressed on, visiting three of the households before darkness had settled in completely. Checking the time, they found it was already past eight.

Qin Ruonan showed no sign of fatigue and didn’t complain about resting, but An Changpu decided it was inappropriate to continue visiting people so late. The remaining five would be dealt with first thing in the morning.

With the day’s work done, the next problem was finding food and lodging. They checked the locations for the next day’s visits and decided to stay at a budget hotel near their first appointment.

Though County T wasn’t particularly developed, its location at the border of two provinces, with convenient access to City C and City B, meant there was a constant flow of travelers. After trying several hotels, they found that either only one room was left or there were no rooms at all—every place was fully booked. This left An Changpu and Qin Ruonan feeling quite helpless.

“Business here is just too good, isn’t it?” An Changpu remarked incredulously.

The receptionist pointed to a small, inconspicuous sign beside her: “It’s written right there—there’s a big investment fair in the county these three days. Lots of people, from big business to small traders. If you didn’t book ahead, you should be grateful to find anywhere to stay.”

“What should we do? Should we take one room—you stay at the hotel, I’ll sleep in the car?” An Changpu asked, at a loss.

Before Qin Ruonan could answer, the receptionist chuckled, “Chivalry is one thing, but that won’t do! We have an open courtyard in front. If you sleep in your car at night, we can’t guarantee your safety. If anything happens, don’t come complaining to us.”

“Let’s try somewhere else,” Qin Ruonan insisted.

The hotel staff weren’t concerned about losing customers in such times; demand far outweighed supply. So, the two of them tried several more hotels and inns, only to find the situation much the same. At last, in a hotel that had once been grand but now seemed rather forlorn, they were given both good and bad news.

The bad news: there was only one room left. The good news: it was a suite.

“Although it’s a bit pricier, if you took two rooms the cost would be similar. Besides, there are no two rooms available. With the suite, just shut the door in the middle—inside and outside are like two separate rooms!” The receptionist, though weary and sleepy, was still polite.

Qin Ruonan frowned, glancing up at the clock on the lobby wall. It was getting late, but she hesitated at sharing a suite.

“Why don’t we each stay at one of those other hotels, the ones with a single room left? Would that be okay?” she asked An Changpu.

He had no objections, so they hurried back, only to discover that both rooms had been taken in the meantime.

“If you’d acted faster, you might have gotten them. With rooms so scarce, who has time to hesitate?” the earlier receptionist said, whether in schadenfreude or simple candor.

“You decide,” An Changpu said, sitting back in the car.

Qin Ruonan bit her lip and, after a moment of hesitation, realized they couldn’t waste more time dithering. If they delayed further, they might end up sleeping on the streets.

“Forget it. Let’s go check if the suite’s still available!” she said, finally making up her mind.

Fortunately, the suite was still there.

“If you’re worried, you can block the door with the sofa at night,” An Changpu joked, sitting on the single bed in the suite’s outer room. He couldn’t help but laugh at Qin Ruonan’s tense, wary demeanor. She hadn’t even flinched when facing the menacing Yao Chang, but now, forced to make do with imperfect lodging, she was acting as if facing a mortal enemy. He couldn’t resist teasing her.

To his surprise, she actually went to check the door, then shook her head. “It’s no use. The door opens toward you.”

His smile turned a little helpless. Raising his hands, he said, “If you’re really worried, handcuff me to the bed, and you keep the key!”

That made Qin Ruonan a little embarrassed. She pursed her lips, shook her head, and retreated into the inner room, closing the door with a curt, “Get some rest.”

An Changpu stretched, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Checking his watch, he realized they’d wasted so much time finding a place to stay that they’d missed dinner. It was late, and there might not be any restaurants still open. Not wanting to disturb Qin Ruonan, he decided to go out and see if he could find something to eat.

He got up, stretched his limbs, slipped the room card into his pocket, and left.

The night in County T was very quiet. After walking several streets, he finally found a small supermarket just about to close. He bought two bowls of instant noodles, some sausages, dried tofu, and other snacks.

Returning to the hotel, he noticed that after being out in the fresh air, the heavy smell of smoke inside the building was even more suffocating. He was secretly grateful that, although his partner was a woman, she was not overly particular about such things. If she’d been the finicky sort who couldn’t stand the smokiness and humidity, tonight’s stay would have been a real headache.

He opened the door to their suite; it was silent inside.

Had the day’s exertions so exhausted her that she’d closed her door and gone straight to sleep? An Changpu stood by the door, holding a plastic bag in one hand and hesitating—should he knock and ask Qin Ruonan to eat, or let her rest undisturbed?

“I don’t have any extra money for you. Don’t come looking for me!”

Suddenly, Qin Ruonan’s voice came sharply from the other side of the door.

An Changpu froze. So she wasn’t asleep—who was she talking to, and in such a harsh tone?

“How old are you? Why are you still so childish? Were you born just to collect debts? I owe you nothing!” Her voice paused, then rose several notches, “I warn you, don’t cause her any more trouble! If you dare—hello? Hello?”

The voice inside cut off abruptly. Before An Changpu could withdraw, the door swung open from within; if he hadn’t reacted quickly, he might have taken the door right on the nose.

Qin Ruonan emerged, her expression dark. Seeing An Changpu by the door, she looked embarrassed.

“I went out to buy some instant noodles and snacks. Just got back and was about to call you to eat,” An Changpu said with a smile, as if he hadn’t heard her earlier outburst.

Qin Ruonan, however, was less composed. Face stony, she walked past him to the small table to retrieve her toiletries, then returned to the inner room.

“I’m not hungry. You eat,” she said through the door, then closed it with a bang.