Chapter Thirteen: The Unexpected

Xia Ying could only cry now; earlier, her tears were tinged with anger, but now they were filled with nothing but grievance. She stood rooted to the spot, hands covering her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs, making her appear so frail and helpless—achingly pitiable.

Fang Da was utterly at a loss, clutching the test results in his hand, an outcome he had never anticipated. He stared blankly, unsure how to react.

An Changpu and Qin Ruonan exchanged awkward glances. They had only come to talk with Xia Ying, hoping to learn about Fang Wan’s daily life and behavior. After all, Fang Da had mentioned he was busy with work, always out early and home late; it was Xia Ying, the stepmother, who spent the most time with Fang Wan. But things had spiraled out of control—first a squabble, then Xia Ying’s sudden announcement of her pregnancy. What was meant to be a routine visit had morphed into a domestic farce. The two detectives now found themselves wondering whether they should step in as mediators, their original purpose lost.

“Please, don’t cry,” Fang Da finally said after a long silence. He sighed, walked over, and wrapped Xia Ying in his arms, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

But the comfort only made Xia Ying’s sobs deepen, the sense of injustice overwhelming her. Fang Da, helpless, whispered gentle reassurances, coaxing her again and again.

“Don’t cry. I was just speaking out of turn before because I was anxious. If you’re angry, slap me! Don’t harm yourself by crying so much, especially now that you’re pregnant.” He spoke softly, casting uneasy glances at Qin Ruonan and An Changpu, aware of their presence.

An Changpu watched the weeping woman and the man trying to console her, then turned to glance at the other side of the house, toward the bedrooms and kitchen.

Seeing this, Qin Ruonan cleared her throat. After catching Fang Da’s attention, she asked, a little embarrassed, “May I use your bathroom?”

Fang Da, preoccupied with Xia Ying’s tears, nodded quickly and gestured, “Just go down the hall, it’s on the right at the end.”

Qin Ruonan stood and left An Changpu in the living room to wait for Fang Da to calm Xia Ying. She followed the direction Fang Da had indicated.

The layout of Fang Da’s home was somewhat like the letter “p.” Upon entering, there was a spacious, square living room. Directly ahead was a narrow corridor with doors on either side. When they first arrived, Qin Ruonan and An Changpu had been ushered straight to the living room, with no chance to glimpse into any other rooms.

Qin Ruonan slipped out of the living room and into the corridor. She had no intention of using the bathroom; Xia Ying’s hostility toward the police was obvious, and now she’d suddenly announced her pregnancy in the midst of a heated quarrel. She and An Changpu hadn’t spoken of it, but both understood: if they openly asked to look around the house, Xia Ying would find any excuse to refuse. And with her now in tears and pregnant, Fang Da would hardly let her be further upset.

So, it was better to take this opportunity—while Fang Da and Xia Ying were still occupied—to quickly check the state of the home.

The corridor was narrow and L-shaped. On the left was one room; on the right, two more. At the end of the corridor was a semi-open kitchen and dining area. The bedroom door on the left was between the two rooms on the right and looked to be the largest, the master bedroom. Of the two rooms on the right, the one closer to the kitchen was the bathroom Fang Da had mentioned. The other was a slightly smaller bedroom.

The doors were all open, so Qin Ruonan stood at each threshold and looked inside.

The master bedroom faced south, full of sunlight and spacious. Directly opposite the door was a bay window, cushioned with soft pads, a small wooden table in the center with a few opened magazines scattered on top. Even at a distance, Qin Ruonan could tell the colorful pages and glossy paper were fashion magazines.

The bed was a large, round, and seemingly soft one; from its shape, the bedding, the white shag rug at the foot, every detail spoke of a young woman’s romantic, fairy-tale taste. Above the bed hung a wedding photo of Fang Da and Xia Ying, both smiling sweetly, faces filled with happiness. On the nightstand lay a TV remote, and a flat-screen TV, similar to the one in the living room, was mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

Clearly, Fang Da doted on Xia Ying. Otherwise, for a man nearly forty, it made little sense for his bedroom to be decorated in such a girlish style. The only explanation was that he wanted to please Xia Ying, willingly letting her transform their bedroom with not a trace of masculinity.

Turning her attention to the other bedroom less than two meters away—the one belonging to Fang Wan—it was much smaller by comparison. A narrow single bed, a desk and chair set, and a small wardrobe took up most of the space, leaving just enough room for a person to move around.

The bedsheet was wrinkled and well-worn, the quilt haphazardly folded and tossed at the head of the bed. The desk was devoid of books; instead, a few small action figures stood on it, each clad in strange armor, weapons in hand, looking fierce and warlike.

Qin Ruonan entered Fang Wan’s room and crouched by the desk, bringing her eyes level with the surface. A thick layer of dust was immediately visible—the only relatively clean spot was the center, the rest coated in gray, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in ages.

Just then, An Changpu’s voice drifted from the living room, addressing Fang Da and Xia Ying. Hearing this, Qin Ruonan left Fang Wan’s room, stepped into the bathroom, and flushed the toilet to make it seem as though she’d used it. Then, without drawing attention, she returned to the living room.

By now, Xia Ying had nearly stopped crying. She and Fang Da sat side by side on the sofa, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes red and sorrowful. Fang Da’s earlier anger and frustration had faded, leaving only guilt. He held Xia Ying’s hands tightly as An Changpu began his questioning.

“I wasn’t just speaking out of anger,” Xia Ying said tearfully to An Changpu. “I don’t know what’s going on with that child. He’s always rejected me, never willing to talk. At first, I tried to get along with him, but he wouldn’t accept me. After a while, I gave up trying.”

“So, you’re saying Fang Wan is holding a grudge against you? Isn’t it possible you’re overthinking it? He’s only a ten-year-old boy,” An Changpu’s tone was skeptical.

Xia Ying huffed in annoyance. “He’s ten, but his birth mother isn’t!”

“You mean Fang Wan’s mother is encouraging him to be hostile toward you?”

“Believe whatever you want. I’m always the one who gets the short end of the stick, always the one everyone suspects first whenever something goes wrong!”

With those words, Xia Ying had managed to implicate all three of them. An Changpu and Qin Ruonan said nothing, but Fang Da grew uneasy. He squeezed Xia Ying’s hands and said softly, “That’s not what I meant. I was just worried when the child went missing. I know you’re not that kind of person. Please, don’t be upset—it’s not good for the baby.”

“The baby, the baby! That’s all you ever think about! To you, I’m just the nanny, just a machine for having children! I’m nothing else!” Xia Ying pulled her hands away, glaring at Fang Da.

He awkwardly withdrew his hand, glancing at An Changpu and Qin Ruonan, too embarrassed to continue consoling her in front of company.

“I heard you once went to Fang Wan’s parent-teacher meeting?” Qin Ruonan finally asked when the couple fell silent. “I thought your relationship with him wasn’t so bad.”

“If your assumptions were enough, you wouldn’t need to ask me,” Xia Ying retorted, her words sharp. Fang Da immediately cast a nervous look at Qin Ruonan, signaling Xia Ying to hold her tongue while giving Qin Ruonan a sheepish smile.

Qin Ruonan wasn’t angered by Xia Ying’s hostility. In fact, since their arrival, she had expected nothing less.

“If your relationship with Fang Wan is so tense, why did he ask you to attend the meeting? And why did you agree to go?” Qin Ruonan pressed on, undeterred by Xia Ying’s attitude.

Xia Ying’s face flushed—whether from anger or embarrassment was unclear.

“How should I know? Maybe there’s something wrong with his head! I didn’t go for him; Fang Da begged me, so I reluctantly agreed. Do you think I enjoy being there, letting the other parents gossip and stare at me like I’m some kind of monster? As if being a stepmother automatically makes me a terrible person! They’re all insane!” Xia Ying snapped, her voice tight with resentment.