chapter 7
The car moved slowly along the rugged mountain road.
Bored while driving, I glanced at Hu Hui, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and asked with interest:
“I didn’t quite understand what you meant earlier. Are you saying the police made a mistake?”
Hu Hui seemed a bit flattered by my polite question and immediately explained with a bright smile.
“Not exactly. The police can only close a case based on evidence that has been verified through legal procedures. In Sheng Bianyan’s case, judging from the scene evidence and the investigation results, it could only be ruled as suicide. But I’m different. I don’t have so many procedures and evidentiary constraints. As long as the logic is sound and the facts hold up, I only need to be responsible for the result.”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly.
“So that’s how it is… Only responsible for the result? But without supporting evidence, how can you be sure the result is correct?”
He seemed to sense a hint of disdain in my tone, his expression stiffened slightly, but he quickly smiled again and said:
“Of course, I have a reasonable process of deduction as well.”
I yawned. “Oh?”
Hu Hui pressed his lips together, showing a slightly more serious expression:
“The most obvious point is that Sheng Bianyan had absolutely no motive for suicide. This has already been analyzed extensively online. Even if the police suggested Smiling Depression as a possible reason, I personally think that doesn’t hold up from a human nature perspective.”
“In fact, before I came to Xietian Village, I did come with the intention of falsifying the conclusion.”
“Just now, Sheng Bianyan’s older brother mentioned a lot, including some details-for example, Sheng Bianyan had a habit of constantly washing his hands since childhood, insisted that objects be kept at fixed angles, and once got into a fight at school because someone changed his desk… In psychology, this kind of behavior is called ritualistic OCD. People like this have two obvious traits: one is Spatial Order Obsession, and the other is Decision Paralysis.”
I frowned. “Spatial Order Obsession is easy to understand literally, but what does Decision Paralysis mean?”
“It means becoming excessively hesitant and unable to make urgent decisions because of the pursuit of perfect rituals,” he answered quickly.
I fell silent.
He glanced at me and smiled.
“You probably know what I’m getting at. Yes, if Sheng Bianyan had truly wanted to commit suicide of his own volition, as someone with Spatial Order Obsession, he wouldn’t have chosen to end his life in a place like the bathroom for such a major event; likewise, someone who is more prone to Decision Paralysis when it comes to big matters wouldn’t have agreed with a student to reschedule a thesis meeting one moment, and then made a hasty decision to end his life the next.”
“But he did exactly that,” I said.
“Yes, Sheng Bianyan did exactly that…”
Hu Hui narrowed his eyes, looking ahead.
“So there’s only one possibility: Sheng Bianyan’s suicide wasn’t internally motivated, but driven by an external force.”
I was silent for two seconds. “Such as?”
“Such as being coerced, discovering someone’s secret, or knowing clearly that if he didn’t commit suicide immediately, he would face a consequence even more terrifying than death! What is certain is that this external force must be hiding around him, and my job is to find this hidden factor!”
The car slowly came to a stop.
Hu Hui was taken aback, turned his head and asked:
“What’s wrong?”
“The car stalled.”
I replied.