Chapter 7: Tearing Apart Hypocrisy, Ending a Twelve-Year Nightmare
The mont the screen went black, the suffocating silence of Qingfeng Temple was shattered by a fierce roar.
"Zhou Jianshe!"
Qin Bingruo moved.
Without the slightest hesitation, without a shred of doubt, she launched herself from the stone table like an enraged leopard.
A grapple with her right hand, a sweep with her left leg.
"Bang!"
A dull thud.
Zhou Jianshe, who had just been raving in front of the cara, was slamd heavily onto the stone table by a trendous force.
The large, coarse porcelain bowl used for incense money was knocked away, sending copper coins rolling across the ground with a clattering sound.
Qin Bingruo pressed her knee firmly against Zhou Jianshe's lower back. Her right hand, which had been corrected countless tis by his own hands on how to hold a gun, was now trembling as she pressed the dark muzzle against the back of his head.
"Don't move! Move again and I'll blow your brains out!"
Qin Bingruo's voice had lost its pitch, carrying a hoarseness as if it were tearing her vocal cords.
Zhou Jianshe did not resist.
The effect of Words Beco Law was gradually fading. The madness of being forced to speak the truth dissipated, replaced by a sense of extre emptiness and gray despair.
His face pressed against the cold stone surface, his murky eyes rolling to look at the hand holding the gun above him.
"Bingruo... your hand is unsteady." Zhou Jianshe's voice was very soft, carrying a hint of eerie calm. "Your breathing is erratic. I taught you that when you fire a gun, you must cast aside all stray thoughts."
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
Qin Bingruo exerted force on her wrist, the barrel of the gun slamming hard against Zhou Jianshe's scalp, grazing the skin and drawing blood.
"Twelve years... twelve whole years!"
The corners of Qin Bingruo's eyes were nearly splitting, red blood vessels spreading like a spiderweb.
"I spent every day looking for her, wondering every day if she was hungry, if she was cold... and it was you? You were the one who locked her in the cellar?!"
"I was doing it for her own good."
Zhou Jianshe closed his eyes, the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitching.
"The outside world is too dirty... am I wrong? I raised her clean and pure; she only listens to , she only knows ..."
"Click."
The sound of the safety being disengaged.
Crisp and jarring.
Qin Bingruo's finger was already curled around the trigger, that pale joint turning a sickly white from the excessive pressure.
Killing intent.
Pure killing intent perated the small courtyard.
With just a light squeeze of her finger, the bullet would blow off the top of Zhou Jianshe's skull, ending this absurdity.
"Officer Qin."
A lazy voice cut in.
Zhang Xuanyao sat on that worn-out little stool, still holding the bowl of unfinished cold porridge.
He spoke in the tone of soone discussing the nice weather today.
"If this old thing's brains splatter out, I'll be the one who has to clean the floor. Qingfeng Temple doesn't have running water, so it's a pain to wash."
Qin Bingruo ignored him, her breathing rapid.
"Kill him... kill him..."
This thought was crashing violently in her mind.
"Besides, if you pull the trigger now, you'll have to take off that police uniform."
Zhang Xuanyao set down the bowl, stood up, and brushed the dust off his Daoist robe.
"Throwing yourself away for a piece of trash like this is a bad deal. I'm a businessman, and I can't stand bad deals."
"I don't care about this police uniform!" Qin Bingruo roared. "I want him dead!"
"Whether he dies or not is up to the law."
Zhang Xuanyao walked to the shrine, picked up three apples, and took a crunching bite.
"Besides, I've already called the police for you."
Before the words had even faded.
It wasn't the sound of sirens approaching from afar, but the chaotic and dense thud of footsteps erupting right at the entrance of the temple.
"Don't move! Police!"
"Drop your weapon!"
Over a dozen fully ard Special Police rushed in, their dark muzzles instantly locking down the entire courtyard. Following closely behind were several plainclothes criminal police officers, led by the deputy captain, Xiao Wang.
The mont Xiao Wang rushed in, he saw the scene before him and froze in place.
"Captain Qin... Zhou... Director Zhou?"
The gun in Xiao Wang's hand nearly dropped to the ground. The order he had received was to assist Captain Qin in arresting a suspect, but no one told him the suspect was their old leader, Zhou Jianshe, who had watched them grow up!
"What are you standing there for?"
Zhang Xuanyao leaned against a pillar and pointed at the stone table.
"The suspect, Zhou Jianshe, is suspected of kidnapping, illegal detention, and intentional injury. The chain of evidence is complete, and the victim's location has been locked. What, do I need to teach you how to use handcuffs?"
Xiao Wang shuddered, glancing at the blood-covered Zhou Jianshe, then at Qin Bingruo, who was on the verge of a breakdown.
"Lower... lower your weapons!" Xiao Wang gritted his teeth and waved his hand.
Two Special Police officers stepped forward, carefully gripping Qin Bingruo's wrists.
"Captain Qin, leave it to us." Xiao Wang's voice trembled. "Don't dirty your hands."
Qin Bingruo turned her head stiffly, looking at her familiar comrades-in-arms, seeing the disbelief and horror in their eyes.
The bloodlust in her eyes faded bit by bit, her fingers slowly loosening.
The gun hit the ground.
"Clang."
Qin Bingruo swayed, as if her spine had been ripped out.
Two criminal police officers quickly stepped forward, dragging Zhou Jianshe up from the stone table, the cold handcuffs locking shut with a "click" around his wrists.
Zhou Jianshe did not struggle.
As he was being escorted past Qin Bingruo, he stopped, his once-kind face looking exceptionally twisted now.
"Bingruo, you're still too young. You'll regret this... no one knows how to take care of Xiaoya better than I do..."
"Take him away!" Xiao Wang roared, pushing Zhou Jianshe forward, giving him no chance to continue speaking.
The courtyard instantly emptied by half.
Except for a few forensic investigators who stayed behind to collect evidence, most of the people left with the escort vehicles.
Qin Bingruo stood in place, the wind ssing up her ponytail, her gray tracksuit looking empty and loose on her.
"Buzz—"
The phone in her pocket began to vibrate.
Qin Bingruo numbly pulled out her phone and pressed the answer button.
The excited voice of a strike team mber ca through the speakerphone, accompanied by the whistling wind and noisy background sounds.
"Captain Qin! We found her! In the cellar on the third underground level of the brick factory! She's alive! Although... although her ntal state isn't great, and she's a bit afraid of the light, her body is fine! We are taking her to the First Municipal Hospital!"
On the other end of the line, a girl's faint scream could be heard, followed by the soothing voices of dical personnel.
The hand holding the phone began to tremble violently.
She was really alive.
The twelve-year nightmare shattered at this mont.
The strength that had supported her to stand, fight, and bleed without shedding tears completely drained away in that instant.
Qin Bingruo's legs went weak, and she fell backward.
She did not land on the hard bluestone floor.
A small stool slid precisely beneath her.
Qin Bingruo collapsed onto the stool, covering her face with both hands, her shoulders beginning to heave violently.
There was no wailing, only the sound of sobbing, suppressed to the extre, leaking out from between her fingers.
Tears slid down the back of her hands, dripping onto the dusty ground, creating small, dark pits.
Zhang Xuanyao sighed.
He walked over to Qin Bingruo and squatted down.
"Alright, stop crying. If you keep crying, you'll dampen the Feng Shui of my temple."
Zhang Xuanyao reached out and patted Qin Bingruo on the shoulder.
"She's been found, that's a happy occasion. That old thing is in custody, that's a great occasion. You should be buying two strings of firecrackers to set off at the gate, not sitting here being a crybaby."
Qin Bingruo did not respond, only crying louder and louder, finally turning into a heart-wrenching release.
Twelve years of grievances, the pain of betrayal by soone she trusted, the ecstatic joy of recovering what was lost—all these emotions flooded over her, overwhelming her reason like a breached dam.
She was no longer that decisive and efficient police captain; she was just a sister who had found her younger sister.
Zhang Xuanyao was about to get up to get so tissues.
Suddenly, a pair of cold hands reached out and tightly grabbed his thigh.
Qin Bingruo buried her face in Zhang Xuanyao's Daoist robe, wiping her snot and tears onto the cheap fabric without reservation.
She gripped his leg tightly, as if clutching the only straw of hope she had had in these twelve years.
"Thank you... thank you..."
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