Chapter 30: The Second

The weekend brought a deceptive calm, the kind that made the previous night’s horrors feel distant.

Chen Dongyang overslept, waking near ten with a growling stomach.
Sunlight slipped through the curtain slats, speckling his face.
Rubbing his eyes, the old teaching building’s gloom clung to his thoughts.

It’s fine now, he told himself.
The police are handling it.

He reached for his phone to check the time and scroll through news.
But the sight of dozens of unread messages in their new four-person chat group erased his fleeting relief.

Frowning, he opened the chat, scrolling to the first unread message.

[Xiran Little Cutie]: Oh no, oh no! Something big happened! @All members
[Xiran Little Cutie]: I found out through some channels—the police searched the building last night and found nothing. The wall’s intact, no damage, no body. They think it was a prank call.

Chen Dongyang’s heart sank.

He scrolled further, spotting a message from Jiang Yuxin—just a news link, no text.

He clicked it.

The screen loaded a Nanjiang City news page, its bold headline chilling:

Another Fatal Fall in City: Librarian’s Death, Police Rule Out Homicide

The article was brief: a retired man in his sixties, found dead in an apartment building’s basement early that morning.
No signs of struggle, a history of depression.
Police deemed it suicide.

Below, a heavily mosaic-covered photo showed the scene.
The blurred figure on the cold ground lay stretched out, eerily peaceful, like a sleeping newborn.

Chen Dongyang’s pupils shrank, a chill racing up his spine.

Exactly the same.

[Qingle]: How could it be… again…
[Xiran Little Cutie]: Seems our guy’s more impatient than we thought.
[Xiran Little Cutie]: We need to meet NOW. Can’t discuss this online.

Yin Xiran sent an address.

[Jiang]: 30 minutes @ all members

At the chat’s end, Yin Qingle had pinged him, likely due to his silence.

Chen Dongyang checked the time: 09:57.
Twenty-three minutes until the meeting.
He was already late.

He shot a quick “received,” rushed to the bathroom, threw on a T-shirt, and splashed cold water on his face to clear his jumbled mind.

As he bolted out, ready to slip on shoes, a voice stopped him.
“Why the rush?”

He froze, looking up to see his mother, Su Minghui, lounging on the sofa, legs crossed.

“Mom… why are you home?” he asked, guilty.
She was supposed to be at the community hospital on Saturday mornings.

“Took the day off,” Su Minghui said, lowering the TV volume with a remote.
She turned, her smile making him uneasy.
“Did you sleep well? Around midnight, I heard noises in your room. Thought we had a burglar.”

Chen Dongyang sweated.
He’d been careful sneaking out and back last night.
How had she noticed?

“Uh, that…” His brain raced.
“I had insomnia, got up for water. No big deal.”

“Really?” Su Minghui raised an eyebrow, eyeing him.
She seemed to buy it, tentatively.
“Going out?”

“Yeah… meeting classmates.”

She studied him for a few seconds, making him squirm.
“Alright, just teasing,” she said, waving him off, eyes back on the TV.
“Boys have their secrets. Next time you’re out late, give a heads-up so we don’t worry. And be safe.”

Chen Dongyang exhaled, relieved.
“Leaving now!” he called, yanking on his shoes.

—

The meeting spot, a coffee shop called “Afternoon Iris,” wasn’t far.
Panting, Chen Dongyang arrived at 10:19, pushing open the glass door.
A wind chime jingled, and the rich coffee aroma hit him, clashing with his anxious mood.

He spotted them immediately in a corner booth by the window.
The three girls, each distinct, drew every eye in the café.

Jiang Yuxin, commanding attention yet untouchable, wore a minimalist white dress, its flawless cut and fabric making her seem like a high-end figurine.
Her long, jet-black hair spilled over her shoulders, a glass of water before her, stark against the café’s warmth.

Yin Xiran, relaxed, wore a light blue puff-sleeved shirt with a bow at the collar and a white miniskirt, showing off slender calves.
She propped her chin on one hand, lazily stirring ice in her lemonade, a mischievous smile flickering as she spotted Chen Dongyang.

Yin Qingle, in a soft yellow long-sleeved dress, looked like a warm pastry.
She clutched a cup of milk, eyes uneasy, still shaken from last night and the morning’s news.
Her gaze softened with relief when she saw Chen Dongyang.

He hurried over, slumping into the seat opposite them, exhaling heavily.

“Master of timing,” Yin Xiran teased, dropping her straw with a grin.
“Only one minute late.”

“Sorry, sorry, won’t happen again,” Chen Dongyang said, face red.

“Sit,” Jiang Yuxin said, her voice clear and cold, cutting to the chase.
“Let’s talk business.”