Chapter 7
Chapter 7
After reading all this, I couldn’t calm down for a long time.
What kind of cruel psycho, with what grudge, would kill such a beautiful, pure girl!
These past two days I’ve been dreaming of Bai Yanmei repeatedly, maybe… it’s not a coincidence.
I remember in the dream, she sat on the bedside crying so sadly, saying someone wanted to kill her.
A bold idea welled up: she wanted to use the dream to have me expose the injustice for her!
I rushed to the fridge, grabbed a few cans of beer, and from the cabinet took out a commemorative bottle of Maotai that I usually couldn’t bear to drink.
I didn’t care about anything else, just drank heavily.
Soon, I started to feel dizzy.
Staggering back to the bedroom, I lay down on my side on the bed, facing the rosewood cabinet not far away.
“Bai Yanmei, if you really have something to say, come to my dream again.”
I stared at the cabinet, my vision gradually blurring…
In a whirl, I fell into slumber.
It was still that ’93 bedroom, pitch black.
Suddenly, the door was rammed open.
Bai Yanmei rushed in from outside, her hair disheveled, face full of terror.
What’s going on!
I quickly shouted: “Bai Yanmei, can you hear me?”
Bai Yanmei acted as if she hadn’t heard, collapsed to the ground, crying and begging: “Don’t come closer! Please, let me go! I’m begging you!!”
What did she see?
Is it the murderer?
I turned around quickly and looked ahead…
The man opposite was in his fifties, slightly balding, with a bit of a paunch.
He held a boning knife in his hand, and behind his rimless glasses were a pair of cold eyes.
It was actually my dad!?
My breath caught, and I jolted awake.
By now the sun was already high in the sky, and the phone by my pillow was persistently buzzing.
Who the hell is calling me!
I rubbed my throbbing temples, picked up the phone to look.
Oh, it’s my dad.
“Hello.”
I closed my eyes and asked weakly, “What’s up?”
Dad started berating me over the phone: “You little brat, out drinking with those fair-weather friends again last night, weren’t you? I called you over ten times and you didn’t answer, thought you’d died out there.”
I chuckled, “My stomach was hurting last night, went to bed early.”
Dad got angry: “I’ve told you long ago, quit this damn livestreaming shit, your schedule is all messed up, staying up all night. Buy a plane ticket back to Guangzhou right now, or your mom and I will come get you ourselves.”
I hate hearing that, rubbed my face tiredly.
Suddenly, I remembered the dream from last night.
I probed, “Dad, do you know Bai Yanmei?”
Dad paused: “Who?”
I glanced sideways at the rosewood cabinet not far away, “Bai Yanmei, from our hometown Cang City, she was murdered and dismembered in ’93.”
Dad paused, puzzled: “That case? How come I don’t know about it?”
I sat up, reached for the cigarette pack on the nightstand, “Yeah, it was quite a big deal back then, I saw it on the news…”
As I was speaking, I suddenly got tinnitus, a sharp headache, faintly hearing a “sizzle” of static.
Dad’s voice became intermittent and hard to catch, “Dismemberment case? No, I know about it. What was that girl’s name again?”
I held my aching head, “Bai Yanmei.”
The tinnitus gradually faded, and the piercing static slowly disappeared.
Dad said oh: “So it was her, I remember now, it was quite a sensation back then.”
I lit a cigarette, joking with Dad, “Oh, now you remember? Last night I dreamed you holding a knife, trying to kill Bai Yanmei. Old man, tell me the truth, are you the murderer?”
Dad spat, “Worthless brat, talking crazy nonsense, just wait till I beat you!”
I frowned and demanded, “Then where were you on September 15, 1993?”
Dad got a bit annoyed: “Where? I’d already gone to Guangzhou by then, of course I was working.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, as long as Dad wasn’t the murderer.
“Alright, I’m hanging up, gonna order takeout.”
Dad snorted coldly, “Our family runs a restaurant, yet you eat out every day. By the way, before you come back to Guangzhou, remember to burn incense at your grandma’s grave.”
I waved my hand impatiently, “We’ll see.”
I don’t like my grandma, she was too superstitious.
On the other end, Dad kept lecturing tirelessly, “I really don’t know what you do all day! Quit school, now a damn influencer, what future is there in that?”
I feebly defended, “Dad, I’m doing self-media, it’s a legitimate profession.”
Dad scoffed, “Spending more than you earn, legitimate my ass.”
“I’ve seen your videos, all just attention-grabbing stunts, won’t get you anywhere!”
“If you had half your sister’s ability, I’d die content.”
“Your sister graduated from a top 985 university, and you? Barely got into a third-rate college and dropped out halfway!”
“Oh, you’re first-rate when it comes to spending money.”
“Good-for-nothing! One of these days I’ll cut off your credit card!”
I couldn’t take it anymore, shouted into the phone, “Just you wait, I’m sticking with self-media, I’ll make sure the whole country knows who I am!”
After hanging up, a wave of exhaustion hit me.
A few minutes later, my mom messaged me.
“Good boy, ignore your dad, he’s gone senile.”
“I just want you to be healthy and happy.”
“Haven’t you been eyeing that Leica lens? Go buy it.”
Ding, a transfer of 100,000 yuan arrived.
The corner of my mouth lifted; after all, Mom loves me.