Chapter 73: The Tragic Killer

The moment Qin Ruonan questioned her, it was as if she had struck Ru Anmei’s mute acupoint. After a fleeting panic flashed across Ru Anmei’s face, she refused to say another word. No matter how Qin Ruonan and An Changpu tried to coax or persuade her, she sealed her lips tight like a clam.

Her stubborn silence convinced Qin Ruonan and An Changpu that she must know the identity of the murderer. In fact, they had already guessed at the answer that Ru Anmei refused to utter, but lacking sufficient evidence, neither dared to voice their suspicions.

Over the next three hours, the stalemate persisted. Not only Qin Ruonan and An Changpu, but the other members of the Major Crimes Unit joined the effort, taking turns to persuade Ru Anmei. The young woman remained unmoved, the only words she would utter being a request that the police treat her as the true culprit and bring her to justice. Beyond that, she would say nothing, not even a word, nor would she drink a drop of water or eat a morsel.

Time crept forward: from afternoon to dusk, and then to the evening as the city lights began to twinkle. Ru Anmei sat rigidly in the reception room, as if she had turned to stone—silent, motionless.

After some discussion and a report to Chief Cheng Feng of the Major Crimes Unit, they obtained his approval. Qin Ruonan called Ding Mulan to inform her that Ru Anmei was at the police station. Ding Mulan’s voice over the phone sounded lost and disoriented; she agreed hastily, then hung up abruptly.

After the call, they made another attempt to persuade Ru Anmei, but it was as fruitless as before.

Both sides were locked in a standoff—neither yielding, neither able to sway the other.

Another hour slipped by. Just when Qin Ruonan and An Changpu were beginning to think their plan was doomed, the quiet of the corridor—long since emptied by the end of office hours—was broken by a rush of hurried, chaotic footsteps.

The door to the Major Crimes Unit burst open. Ding Mulan stumbled in, hair disheveled, nearly collapsing as she entered.

“Don’t you dare torment my daughter!” she cried, her face streaked with tears, her expression wild with panic. “I killed Lumin! I’m the one you should arrest!”

Mo Dou, not the lead on this case, was stunned by the scene before him.

“Take your time, don’t get so worked up!” Qin Ruonan rushed forward to steady Ding Mulan, who was swaying dangerously as if about to faint.

“Please, I beg you! Let my Anmei go! She’s just a foolish child—she knows nothing, doesn’t understand what she’s doing! Let her go! I killed him, I’ll accept whatever punishment you give me! I’ve failed as a mother already—I can’t drag my child down with me!” Ding Mulan sobbed, pleading with the officers around her, her grief so overwhelming that she nearly fainted on the spot.

An Changpu gave Mo Dou a look. Mo Dou caught on and left for the reception room, while he and Qin Ruonan supported Ding Mulan between them and escorted her to Cheng Feng’s office, where they sat her down.

Even seated, Ding Mulan wept uncontrollably, craning her neck from time to time to try to see outside, but the blinds had been drawn tightly by An Changpu—she could see nothing.

“I want to see my daughter! Please, let me see my daughter!” she begged Qin Ruonan through her tears.

Qin Ruonan shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry. Since you’ve turned yourself in, until the facts are clear, I can’t let you see her.”

Ding Mulan’s face fell into despair. After a moment, she sighed heavily. “Since I’m here, I won’t hide anything. My second girl is just a simple child—she just wanted to protect me. I can’t let her do this for me.”

“I killed him.” After a long silence, she finally spoke again. “I never dared tell anyone about this. Anmei shouldn’t have known either. I guess she only figured it out later, which is why she tried to confess. I killed him. I used the stone from our pickled vegetable jar to smash him to death, then sawed the corpse apart and threw it into the river in two trips. That’s all my doing. I admit it. Ask whatever you want—I’ll tell the truth. Just, please, don’t make things hard for my daughter.”

Ding Mulan’s account, though vague, clarified one thing the police had long suspected but could never prove: Lumin’s fatal injury was to the head.

Earlier, under Qin Ruonan and An Changpu’s deliberate misdirection, Ru Anmei had confessed first to poisoning, then to stabbing her father, but never once mentioned a head wound as the fatal blow. This made Ding Mulan’s confession highly credible.

“Why did you kill Lumin?” An Changpu asked.

“Because I hated him,” Ding Mulan bit out, her teeth clenched, the words squeezed from between them. “He made me live like a widow for years, made our whole family hold their heads down in public. I bore his children, worked the fields, earned money to keep us going. He never thanked me, only deceived me. So I killed him.”

“Lumin wasn’t like this for just a day or two, or even a year or two. If you were so disappointed, why didn’t you just leave? Why kill him now? And what do you mean by him deceiving your feelings? You always knew he wanted to be a woman. I don’t think that’s the deception you’re talking about,” Qin Ruonan pressed, sensing that Ding Mulan’s grievance ran deeper than what they already knew.

Ding Mulan’s face flushed deep red, whether from embarrassment or shame, it was hard to tell.

“Well, at this point, there’s no need to pretend about pride or face. I don’t know how much you’ve uncovered, but you must know Lumin delayed his final surgery for a long time, right? It wasn’t for lack of money. The money he wasted would’ve paid for it several times over. The reason he wouldn’t go through with it was that he couldn’t decide whether it was better to be a woman or a man. He wanted to keep his options open—in case those old men stopped spoiling him or, as he aged, still had certain needs. He planned to take the money and run back to me if things didn’t work out, have me take care of him in his old age.”

When Ding Mulan finished, Qin Ruonan and An Changpu exchanged glances. They’d heard rumors from Lu Ji about Lumin’s reluctance to finish the surgery in order to keep his options open, but never fully understood why.

Thinking back to their visit to Lu Jun’s home, and Lu Jun’s wife’s comments about Lumin and Ding Mulan resuming conjugal relations, Ding Mulan’s words now made a certain sense.

“Did Lumin tell you all this from the start? Did you know all along?” An Changpu and Qin Ruonan, close in age and both unmarried, found this line of questioning acutely uncomfortable.

Ding Mulan shook her head. “I didn’t know at first. If I had, I’d never have agreed to that surgery, not even if it killed me. It was only later, when he got drunk and let it slip, that I realized.”

“Even if you killed Lumin, you weren’t the one who poisoned him,” Qin Ruonan stated, rather than asked.

They’d already verified that Ru Anmei had purchased the rat poison, and the timing between the poisoning and the fatal blow was short. Ding Mulan claimed Ru Anmei only deduced her mother was the killer after the fact, which explained why Ru Anmei never mentioned the fatal head wound.

So Ru Anmei failed to kill Lumin with poison, but it also wasn’t Ding Mulan’s doing. There were two reasons: first, Ru Anmei knew Lumin had ingested poison; second, if Ding Mulan had poisoned him and the rat poison came from Ru Anmei, why would Ru Anmei need to deduce her mother’s involvement later?

Ding Mulan, hearing Qin Ruonan’s certainty, didn't deny it. “Anmei is just too naïve. Lumin never liked her, either ignored her or, when drunk, would vent his anger on her. For years, Anmei endured it, just for my sake. I always told her not to blame her father. In the end, I’m the one who ruined her life. I was so hurt by what Lumin said when he was drunk, I didn’t know whether to leave or stay. My older daughter never cared about me—she always sided with Lumin for pocket money, even after she grew up. Then that Xie fellow came to our house and caused a scene, and Anmei overheard, so I cried to her. I had no idea she’d take it to heart.”

“I didn’t know she put anything in her father’s food. Anmei isn’t the sort to do something bad—she’s timid. That day she helped me bring him his meal and ran off in a hurry, wouldn’t stay no matter what I said. Before leaving, she told me to call her if anything happened. I thought, what could possibly happen? But soon after, Lumin started complaining of dizziness and stomach pain. At first I thought he’d eaten something bad or was just picking a fight, but then he started vomiting violently, bringing up almost everything he’d eaten. That’s when I realized something was wrong.”

“By then, Ru Anmei had already left home?” Qin Ruonan asked.

Ding Mulan nodded. “Yes. Lumin was puzzled at first, but soon realized he’d been poisoned and started cursing me. I tried to explain, but he clutched his stomach and staggered around looking for ‘evidence.’ He found nothing in the kitchen, so he went to the yard—and found the rat poison Anmei had thrown out. He flew into a rage, screamed that he’d make Anmei pay, called her a little bastard, said she’d never cared about him and that’s why she suddenly brought him food. He demanded I call her back so he could punish her. I refused, begged him to forgive her foolishness, but he wouldn’t relent. He staggered out, saying he’d go to the police and have Anmei arrested for murder. I panicked, grabbed him around the waist to stop him. He shoved me off so hard my head smacked the doorframe—I was in tears from the pain.”

At this point, the sorrow on Ding Mulan’s face was replaced by a kind of desperate resolve.

“I touched my head and realized I was bleeding. Lumin kept cursing me, and my ears were ringing, my mind went blank. All I could think was that I couldn’t let him send my poor daughter to prison. So I left him there, went to the kitchen, took the pickling stone. Lumin thought I was too hurt to stop him, didn’t expect anything. I smashed him in the back of the head with it. I only meant to knock him down, keep him from calling the police, but when I came to my senses, he was dead.”

Ding Mulan shuddered, falling silent, as if the force that had carried her this far had finally spent itself and she was now overwhelmed by fear for what was to come.

“Where did you dismember the body?” An Changpu asked.

“In the kitchen. At first I was terrified. I dragged his body to the kitchen, locked myself in, shaking all over, too weak to move. I hid for hours before realizing I couldn’t just leave him there—he’d rot, attract flies, what if someone discovered him? I’d seen that sort of thing on TV! So I pulled myself together. The only way was to take him apart and dispose of him piece by piece. I found a saw in the storeroom and cut him up. Some parts I couldn’t saw through, so I used the hatchet for chopping bones. That very night, I put on old clothes, a mask and a hat, and took the legs out to dump.”

The police already had a general idea of how and where the body was disposed of, although they would need to clarify the details later. For now, they were more curious about the vehicle used.

“The tricycle you used to transport the body—where did that come from?” Qin Ruonan asked. The answer would reveal how much Ru Anmei had actually known or participated.

According to Ding Mulan, Ru Anmei knew nothing and only guessed the truth afterward. Qin Ruonan believed her, but not entirely. The facts would need further verification.

“That little tricycle belonged to the supermarket where Anmei worked—they used it for deliveries. She’d borrowed it home, left it in our backyard. I planned to return it after dumping the body, but on the second trip, people on the road gave me strange looks. I got scared, left it by the river, and told Anmei a thief had taken it. I gave her money to pay the supermarket, but she said to just let it go.”

After this, Ding Mulan glanced at Qin Ruonan and An Changpu. “If I hadn’t come in to confess, afraid you’d wrongly accuse Anmei, would you have ever suspected me?”

Her tone was probing, a mix of wishful thinking and regret. She hoped for reassurance from the police, but knew it was too late to avoid the consequences.

“Actually, we suspected you long ago,” An Changpu replied, shattering her last illusion. “We just didn’t have enough evidence to act or search your home. Even if you hadn’t confessed, we would have come knocking soon.”

Ding Mulan was stunned, her mouth slightly open, unable to accept this answer.

An Changpu gave Qin Ruonan a look, asking her to explain further. Qin Ruonan nodded. “In all our conversations, you showed an unusual level of tolerance for Lumin’s behavior—more than any ordinary wife could. You explained it as love, and we didn’t doubt that. But because of your love, we found a suspicious gap: if you loved your husband so much, even after he tried to transition, why did you never ask whether his head had been found after his murder and dismemberment? We considered two possibilities: your love was a facade, or you already knew the answer.”

“You’ve sacrificed so much for the Lu family, suffered so much hardship,” An Changpu picked up the thread. “If you didn’t love Lumin, it would’ve been impossible to put up with his selfishness and still give so much. So we ruled out the first possibility and concluded—you knew where Lumin’s head was.”

Ding Mulan listened, forcing a bitter smile. “I thought you never questioned me, never showed any suspicion, because I’d hidden it so well. Turns out I was just fooling myself.”

“Also, we tracked down the rat poison seller—not far from your home, right on Ru Anmei’s route. But the abandoned brick kiln where the body parts were dumped was in the opposite direction from her workplace. And when we asked about any identifying marks on Lumin, you told us about the birthmark on his hip. Yet the body we found was missing that patch of skin. Anyone dismembering a body might notice a birthmark, but to cut it out as proof of identity, you’d have to know about it well in advance—someone close to Lumin. What really clouded things at first was Lumin’s complicated relationships. We even thought at one point the killer might be one of his male lovers. So we went astray for a while,” Qin Ruonan continued.

Ding Mulan shook her head with a rueful smile. “You really misunderstood Lumin! He didn’t like men. The only reasons he wanted to be a woman were to indulge his vanity and to get people to spend money on him. That’s why he targeted older men and wouldn’t complete the surgery. He told me he wanted an old, rich man who would spoil him and have no carnal desires—if he found one, he’d go through with the surgery and live comfortably the rest of his life. If not, he’d settle for me. Can you imagine how I felt? When he wanted the surgery, I said we’d have to divorce first, but he sweet-talked me, promised it was just a phase and he’d come back to live with me. Turns out, I was just a backup—a fallback plan.”

Her words brought a heavy silence. An Changpu and Qin Ruonan gazed at the woman before them, who looked far older than her years, unsure if they felt more sympathy or helplessness.

“If you could have let go earlier, why cling so stubbornly, until everything was ruined?” Qin Ruonan wondered aloud, unable to comprehend Ding Mulan’s years of persistence.

“People are foolish—women even more so. At first, it was love, then just stubborn pride. If Lumin had only mistreated me, or all three of us, I might have given up and left long ago. But he didn’t. I worked myself to the bone for him, served him hand and foot, kept him fed and pampered, but he despised me, thought I was ugly and stupid, drank and cursed me for hours, treated Anmei the same. The more she tried, the more he looked down on her. Anju, on the other hand, took after him—selfish and vain, never helped around the house, but had a sweet tongue and a keen eye for money. She knew her father controlled the finances and flattered him for it. Later, she married Lu Ji, who was just as mercenary. When Lumin wanted the surgery, those two were the most opposed—they said it was shameful. But then they suddenly changed their tune. I don’t need to ask why—they must have gotten money out of it!”

“What does all this have to do with your unwillingness to let go?”

“Lumin bullied the weak, feared the strong. Anmei and I were easy targets. Anju and Lu Ji, he treated well. I just couldn’t accept that after all my years of devotion, he valued those who never cared for him. If I left, all my hard work would have gone to waste. In the end, it was worse than wasted—I ruined myself, too.” As she spoke, Ding Mulan suddenly stood up, rushed to Qin Ruonan, and grabbed her hand. “Girl, you’re a woman too—you must understand! I’ve confessed, told you everything—please, you must let Anmei go!”

“Ru Anmei’s poisoning attempt is well documented. Whether she can be released is up to the law, not us,” Qin Ruonan replied, shaking her head.

“But she didn’t kill Lumin! I did! Whatever punishment is due, let me bear it—I’m her mother, I’m willing!” Ding Mulan’s knees buckled and she collapsed before Qin Ruonan.

“Ru Anmei’s intent was clear—even if she didn’t succeed, she still acted. In the eyes of the law, everyone must answer for their own actions, even family cannot bear it for them,” Qin Ruonan said, helping Ding Mulan up, sympathetic but unable to offer false hope.

At these words, Ding Mulan’s eyes rolled back and she fainted.

When she came to, Qin Ruonan and An Changpu took a detailed statement. They learned that Ding Mulan had long since buried Lumin’s head in the family’s fields. Meanwhile, Mo Dou finished Ru Anmei’s confession regarding the poisoning. With Ding Mulan’s cooperation, they drove to her home in Jiangkou District. Following her directions, they quickly found the tools used for dismemberment and the pickling stone. Chemical tests revealed traces of blood, and the kitchen floor showed signs of a massive, cleaned-up bloodstain.

Ding Mulan was taken into custody. Soil analysis confirmed An Changpu’s earlier suspicions: the soil found in the tricycle tire treads matched fertilizer from the Lu family’s vegetable plot. The clay bricks used to weigh down the body were also traced back to the abandoned brick kiln, confirming Ding Mulan’s account.

When Qin Ruonan asked why she bothered to go so far for bricks instead of using the stone that killed Lumin, Ding Mulan’s answer was both absurd and poignant.

She said, “That stone was just right for pickling vegetables—I couldn’t bear to part with it.”

Thus, the case of the dismembered transgender victim was finally closed. It was impossible to say who was more pitiable or detestable—the victim or the killer. Afterward, the detectives could only sigh with relief and reflect on the case.

“It just goes to show, sometimes you have to let go. Endlessly enduring and giving in only deepens resentment, twists people’s hearts, and leads to ruin,” An Changpu mused as he organized the file after sending Ding Mulan to the prosecutors.

Qin Ruonan nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. Sometimes letting go is the better choice. The sacrifices we make for family or children aren’t always the right path.”

“Well, now this case is closed, but there’s another one waiting for me!” An Changpu stretched.

“What case?”

“The one about what connection we might have had before! I always keep my promises—just wait for me to figure it out!” he replied confidently.

Qin Ruonan smiled gently, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Then I’ll look forward to it.”

[End of Volume One. In the city, a spate of missing children cases emerges—all boys aged ten to fifteen, with no sign of ransom or evidence, dead or alive. The bizarre case leads the trail into the world of the internet, where an invisible web of evil lurks behind seemingly innocent online games. What sort of past lies hidden behind the inhuman crimes of the perpetrators? Please continue to support the story!]