The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Chapter 216

Chapter 216

To be honest, Zhu Guoliang had a bit of pride in himself for committing the two and a half murders.

Having lived half a lifetime, his peers were getting promoted and making fortunes, while he was just an office director. He was supposed to be a minor leader, but he was really just getting by.

His wife was overbearing and had an awful temper. She was always scolding him for being useless. His son had only gone to a vocational college. Compared to his friends' children who were either studying abroad or at top universities, Zhu Guoliang's son didn't stand a chance.

But who could have imagined that he actually had a bit of uncanny talent in certain areas - although these weren't exactly upright areas?

Zhu Guoliang believed he wasn't a pervert and didn't have any perverted genes. He was just pretending to be a perverted serial killer. But he had committed the deeds so perfectly that the police still hadn't come knocking. His sense of smugness was genuine.

It was a peculiar feeling of satisfaction that had indirectly nurtured his confidence.

However, heaven loved playing tricks and enjoyed letting people take a hard fall just when they were feeling smug.

The fourth victim turned out to be a man, a cross-dressing man.

Zhu Guoliang cursed him viciously in his belly, but was relieved that he hadn't disfigured the body. He carefully searched the personal belongings, but there was nothing.

He didn't dare follow his usual methods, afraid that someone would notice he wasn't a "real pervert." He hurriedly found some men's clothing and dressed the corpse in it. Pretending to be drunk, he dumped the body near the bar where he had encountered the man.

He didn't forget to discard an empty liquor bottle to make the scene look more realistic.

After completing everything, he broke out in a cold sweat, deciding it was time to stop.

Initially, it seemed to go smoothly. No one linked the fourth person to the previous three. But after waiting several days, he was suddenly called in for questioning by the police about why he had appeared near the bar.

As soon as he heard this, he knew what was up. Realizing the police had yet to uncover the connection, he calmly answered their questions.

But then the police showed up at his door and detained him. The true identities of the corpses were discovered, and a series of things left him scrambling in panic.

Zhu Guoliang had considered imitating the serial killers from American TV shows - first arrogantly confessing to a number of murders but not revealing where the bodies were, in order to get a reduced sentence.

But it was useless.

Fantasies were just fantasies. The police slapped the evidence right in his face.

He collapsed and confessed, but still felt a bit unwilling.

"I did make things difficult for you all, didn't I?" he asked.

The police officer said, "...Ahem, take a look and see if your confession has any problems. If not, sign it."

Behind him, they commented to each other.

Liang Yi said, "Watched too many American shows."

Ji Feng said, "There were holes in his brain."

They cursed him while calling out for everyone to go out and celebrate. After working hard for half a month, they could finally rest properly.

Liang Yi still had a conscience and asked, "Should we call Jian Jing to come along?"

Ji Feng said, "She's busy."

That day, Jian Jing was attending a funeral.

It seemed that heaven also felt the injustice and specifically added to the sorrowfulness of the funeral. Since early morning, the skies had been gloomy. By noon, snow began drifting down, fine flakes fluttering like ash, scattering onto transparent umbrella surfaces.

The atmosphere in the funeral home was divided in two.

The family on the left side - the mother had lived to ninety-six - it could be considered a celebratory mourning. Those who came to pay their respects didn't seem overly sad. On the contrary, they gathered in groups to chat and catch up.

Old friends and relatives were now scattered all over the country. They rarely got together, so they took the chance to reacquaint themselves and share updates.

But the family on the right side was grief-stricken.

Their daughter was twenty-five this year. She had only been working for less than two years and had just started dating. She was in the most beautiful and hopeful time of her youth. Her career, romance, and life were just beginning.

But she had already closed her eyes forever.

Her mother cried so hard she nearly fainted, repeatedly murmuring, "If only I had known, I would have asked her to come back home. I could have found her a job close by. My poor daughter!"

The old woman with greying hair prostrated on the ground, wailing loudly. Next to her, the father's eyes were red again.

Relatives tried to comfort them while sighing, "She was only in her twenties, so young!"

Someone else whispered, "They've closed the coffin. I heard her body was unrecognizable."

"How unjust, for the old to send off the young," the elderly dabbed their eyes, also feeling sorrowful.

When Jian Jing entered, this was the stagnant atmosphere she encountered.

She took out a white envelope from her bag and handed it to the relative collecting money at the door. He squeezed the red packet, discovered it was stuffed full, and looked up hesitantly. "Are you my cousin's friend?"

Jian Jing nodded slightly.

"You didn't write your name," the deceased's cousin said, turning over the envelope and handing her a pen. "Could you please leave your name?"

She shook her head and walked right in.

There were black mourning banners in the memorial hall, floral wreaths sent by relatives on both sides, an automatic prayer machine chanting "Amitabha," and the sound of wooden clappers.

Jian Jing lit incense, gazing at the portrait photo of the deceased.

It was probably her graduation photo. Her features were ordinary, but her face was youthful, with lively spirits and bursting vitality. But now she lay inside the coffin, having closed her eyes forever.

Jian Jing couldn't help sighing and walked over to the deceased's parents.

"Uncle, auntie," she called to them.

"Hello, thank you for coming to see our Anan," the mother wiped her tears and forced a smile.

Jian Jing carefully said, "I have a gift I'd like to give her." She held out a book with a red rose stuck to the cover. "I hope you can accept it."

The mother was startled. "No need, no need, you're too kind."

"That's right, little girl, take it back," the father also dissuaded her.

Jian Jing said, "Miss really enjoyed my novels. Being able to catch the criminal was also largely thanks to her. I'd like to give her this book, so please accept it."

Only upon hearing this did the parents take a closer look at her and recognize who she was. "You, you're the author Anan liked?"

"My name is Jian Jing," she placed The Rose, the Gold, and the Killer into the mother's hands. "I'm very sorry, and very grateful for your daughter's support."

The parents exchanged a glance before finally accepting it. "Thank you. If Anan knew you came to give this to her, she would definitely...definitely be very happy."

As the mother spoke, she choked up again.

Jian Jing really could not bear to keep watching. She left the book and hurriedly took her leave.

They didn't try to keep her. After a moment's hesitation, they took the book to the back viewing room and opened the coffin lid. The morticians had already prepared her body, carefully applying makeup so her face wouldn't look too ghastly.

The mother held back sobs as she grasped her daughter's hand and placed the brand new book inside the coffin, keeping her hand resting on it.

"Wah-" An obvious sob. The mother slumped over the edge of the coffin, weeping again. "My daughter, take me with you. How can I go on living?"

The mournful wails penetrated the curling incense smoke into Jian Jing's ears. She couldn't help but stop in her tracks and look back, myriad thoughts churning inside.

In another world, her own birth parents must have wept like this for her too.

Were they well?

"Jingjing?" A hand rested heavily on her shoulder. "Don't look anymore."

Jian Jing was jolted back to her senses. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red and you say you're fine?" Kang Mu Cheng frowned with disapproval. "You didn't need to make a special trip here. If you wanted to deliver the book, you could have had an assistant do it."

Jian Jing said, "Right, and I even bothered Chairman Kang to specially accompany me here."

Kang Mu Cheng looked at her helplessly.

"Let's go. We're going to Yingjie's place to freeload food," she said, getting into the car. She took off the black mourning veil hat and switched to a white rabbit fur hat. She also hastily changed her belt and accessories, completely transforming from the somber look for attending the funeral.

Si Yingjie lived in a villa district in the suburbs, some distance away from the city center. The advantage was the scenery was excellent and they could barely hear the urban noise. The disadvantage was it was too far from convenient amenities - delivery took a minimum of an hour.

"You're here," In the freezing cold outside, the indoor temperature was a comfortable 25 to 26 degrees Celsius. Si Yingjie was wearing just a single layer, barefoot as he came to open the door. "Damn, it's so cold. Close the door quick!"

Once the door was shut, warm air immediately filled their cheeks.

Jian Jing swiftly took off her coat, hat, and shoes, asking, "What are you treating us to?"

"Seafood. My sister had seafood delivered over - a few boxes of it." Si Yingjie was unaware of his own blessings as he complained, "How long will it take us to finish all this?"

He brought them inside. The floor heating had already warmed up the entire space. One almost wished to immediately eat ice popsicles.

"There's ice cream in the kitchen," Si Yingjie pointed out.

Jian Jing immediately dashed to the kitchen.

The ice cream at Si Yingjie's home was handmade, brought over this morning by chefs from the hotel, who were also responsible for preparing the seafood—they certainly couldn't expect Si Yingjie to cook.

Jian Jing scooped herself a big bowl of ice cream, while taking the chance to check out the living room.

Si Yingjie and Kang Mu Cheng were truly opposite friends. The Kang family home was neat and tidy, with everything in its place, while here it was a mess, either dirty or cluttered.

Decorations of all styles and types were haphazardly piled on cabinets by the owner, crooked and bent, doing whatever he fancied, enough to drive someone with OCD crazy.

Jian Jing counted, there were probably: Egyptian scarab talismans, Japanese Noh masks, Indian Shiva statues, Thai Buddha amulets, Arabian spices...a random mess.

She saw that Kang Mu Cheng couldn't stand it anymore, and had started tidying up the magazines randomly strewn over the sofa.

Si Yingjie found him annoying, and snatched them back to stuff haphazardly onto the shelves.

This wouldn't do.

Kang Mu Cheng could just bear it when he saw the mess, but when he saw books in a mess, he had to rearrange them alphabetically.

Si Yingjie grumbled, "Annoying habits."

Kang Mu Cheng: "Shut up."

Jian Jing laughed delightedly, unable to stop as she bit into her spoon.

Si Yingjie was laughed into a blush by her, and hurriedly changed the topic: "Any plans for Christmas and New Year's? I'm bored to death, why don't we go soak in some hot springs?"

Kang Mu Cheng said: "I have a new book coming out on New Year's, no time."

"We can go after it's over, right?" Si Yingjie said.

But Kang Mu Cheng said: "After the new book launch ends, I'm going to Europe, to attend a wedding."

Si Yingjie was puzzled: "Whose wedding?"

He and Kang Mu Cheng had quite a bit of overlap in their social circles, and he didn't seem to have heard about this.

"A university classmate, you don't know him," Kang Mu Cheng explained, "He's very solitary, almost no friends. Although we haven't had contact for a while, I still want to go for a bit."

Jian Jing asked curiously: "Where in Europe?"

He reported a place name that none of them had heard before.

Jian Jing searched for half a day on Google Maps, and discovered it really was quite remote, definitely not a hot tourist destination. She couldn't help but worry: "You're going alone?"

After the Paris attacks, she had developed a psychological shadow about countries without gun control.

Kang Mu Cheng going abroad alone really made one worry.

Not just her, Si Yingjie took one look at the map, and said without thinking: "I'll go with you."

Kang Mu Cheng didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "There's nothing fun there, why do you want to go?"

"I'm bored, might as well go, who knows, maybe I can meet a couple of beauties," Si Yingjie was nonchalant, "Jian Jing, you going or not?"

Jian Jing rested her cheek in her hand, and murmured: "Then it depends on whether Boss Kang is willing to bring me along."

Kang Mu Cheng was both amused and exasperated: "If you want to go, would I not bring you along?"

"What if there are beauties," she used Si Yingjie's words, and said solemnly, "I have to consider your future partner, you know."

Kang Mu Cheng: "..."

Si Yingjie burst into raucous laughter: "Hahahahaha!!"