Mystery Hunter

“What’s the problem?” asked Director Wen, his voice betraying a hint of excitement and happiness at seeing Mr. Zhao. But underneath, he was more worried than anything. He knew that Zhao Lao had decided to leave, and the coldness of his words suggested that something was amiss. And that something could have dire consequences.

Mr. Zhao pulled out a card from his pocket, and to Director Wen’s surprise, it was a black business card. The card bore only four words, handwritten with a fountain pen in strokes like dragons and snakes, iron and silver hooks piercing the back of the paper. The handwriting was powerful and vigorous, a testament to the calligrapher’s skill.

Despite the beauty of the script, the words themselves were ominous. Zhao Lao recognized the handwriting, a familiar sight from more than twenty years ago when he had encountered the owner of this card in a Dongxing City mental hospital. At the time, Zhao Lao had not been the calm and determined man he was now, and he had suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the card’s owner.

Zhao Lao had not seen the person behind the card in twenty years, not since their escape from the mental hospital. But now, the owner of that familiar handwriting had returned.

Director Wen took the card from Zhao Lao and read it. He let out a deep breath and said, “This person is back again.”

Zhao Lao, already on his way downstairs, called out, “That old man is eighty years old and a real troublemaker.”

Director Wen noticed that Mr. Zhao appeared exhausted and pointed out, “It seems like you haven’t had a chance to rest lately. I’ll inform Director Li about forming another group.”

Mr. Zhao agreed but insisted on informing Director Li in person, as he hadn’t seen him for some time. As he made his way downstairs while speaking, he realized that the onlookers had already dispersed.

Director Wen, being a disciple of Lao Zhao, observed something amiss and mentioned that someone must have placed the black card in Mr. Zhao’s pocket during the commotion. However, Mr. Zhao dismissed the idea, knowing that the culprit must have had some capability to avoid being blacklisted by the Ministry of Public Security. He was concerned that the old man who had given him the black card might have a significant plan in store before he passed away.

Later that night at the Ministry of Public Security, Mr. Zhao met with his former colleague, the Deputy Minister of Public Security, Li Bu. They discussed the re-formation of a task force to deal with an old enemy who had resurfaced. Despite their age and experience, their conversation became heated as they debated the choice of police officers for the task force.

Li Bu presented a list of young, highly talented police officers, but Mr. Zhao preferred to look for people outside the system. Li Bu questioned Mr. Zhao’s methods and suggested that he should not search for idle individuals. After all, he was an honorary professor at the People’s Public Security University of China, not a reemployment training company.

Their argument may have surprised others who witnessed it, but these two powerful old men had been friends and colleagues for over a hundred years. Regardless of their differences, they shared a deep mutual respect.

In the late hours of the night, Mr. Zhao and Chief Li Bu sat across from each other in the dimly lit room. A black card lay on the table between them, a symbol of the mysterious and dangerous case that they were tasked to solve.

Chief Li Bu had just presented a list of highly skilled police officers for Mr. Zhao to consider for their task force. But Mr. Zhao, an experienced detective and teacher, was not convinced that these individuals were the right fit.

“I already know that the majority of the good cops in this file have learned what I taught them. In other words, I’d like to find another person to assist me,” Mr. Zhao chuckled in response to Chief Li Bu’s recommendation.

“Do you think it is necessary?” Chief Li Bu questioned.

“If it’s him we have to deal with,” Mr. Zhao replied cryptically.

Chief Li Bu rolled his eyes. “Every time you have something to say, you bring up some eccentric person. Do you really need to look outside of the system? Are you suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder? You’re an honorary professor of the People’s Public Security University of China, not a laid-off reemployment training company.”

Mr. Zhao pointed at Chief Li Bu with a smile. “You and I both know that the people in that file have been trained by me. I have other candidates in mind, but I need your permission.”

“Fine, who is it this time?” Chief Li Bu inquired.

“Jiang He,” Mr. Zhao announced.

Chief Li Bu was surprised. “Jiang He? That person isn’t even on the payroll. How many cases has he successfully resolved?”

Mr. Zhao shook his head. “I don’t know the exact number, but I trust his abilities.”

“Does this individual have paranoia?” Chief Li Bu asked skeptically.

Mr. Zhao shrugged. “I don’t know, but I do know that he’s the best at what he does.”

With their conversation at an end, Mr. Zhao and Chief Li Bu left the room, each with their own thoughts about the upcoming investigation. The black card remained on the table, a reminder of the darkness that awaited them.

“Where does this person reside, and how can we locate them?” Chief Li Bu inquired once more.

Mr. Zhao continued to shake his head.

“Are you kidding me, Zhao Shilin? You expect me to unearth everything based on a mere name?” The head of the Li Department expressed his exasperation.

“I’m sorry, but I do not possess all the answers,” Mr. Zhao replied with a smile and another shake of his head.

Two hours later, a file was placed in front of Zhao Lao.

“Tell me the extent of my resources utilized to obtain this information. You were once beyond my jurisdiction, but now that you are my subordinate, if this person, Jiang He, does not possess the same capabilities as the rest of our police officers, you will not be permitted to utilize him. Do you comprehend?” Captain Li pointed to the file as he spoke.

“However, it seems that you and this individual are bound by fate,” he added, noticing that Zhao Lao was not paying attention to his words.

“Bound by fate?” Mr. Zhao appeared perplexed.

“It is quite evident when you examine the details,” said Chief Li Bu.

Mr. Zhao began to peruse the file.

Jiang He is a twenty-eight-year-old resident of Yuzhou, of Han nationality.

He was a six-year-old first-grader when he walked out of the community unit to attend school on a sunny day.

An explosion occurred upstairs shortly after he exited the building.

The onlookers were bewildered as there was a fire upstairs.

Firefighters, doctors, and police officers all arrived on the scene.

After the situation had calmed down, the police concluded their investigation.

The fourth-floor couple’s argument had escalated into a violent rage. The husband, consumed by anger, had ignited a gas canister, triggering a massive explosion that decimated their kitchen and spread to the third floor, where another couple was enjoying breakfast.

Decades later, Mr. Zhao sat reading through the old case file. The events of that day still weighed heavy on his mind. He was just a rookie cop at the time, accompanying his mentor, Shi Huacheng, to investigate the bombing.

The aftermath was utter chaos. Firefighters and police officers scrambled to put out the flames, save those trapped inside, and evacuate the building.

But amidst the pandemonium, Zhao Shilin’s attention was drawn to a small boy. Standing some distance away, he watched in horror as the residential building burned. The fear and confusion in the child’s eyes tugged at Zhao Shilin’s heartstrings, and he knew he couldn’t leave him there alone.

He approached the boy, who trembled with fear as Zhao Shilin held him close. Despite his best efforts, Zhao Shilin couldn’t get the boy to reveal his identity or the whereabouts of his parents. So he stayed with the child for the entire twelve hours, providing comfort and reassurance in the midst of the tragedy.

When the dust finally settled and the investigation was complete, Zhao Shilin learned the devastating truth. The third-floor couple, whose kitchen had been destroyed by the explosion, had been taken to the hospital but had not survived their injuries. The little boy he had comforted all those years ago was their son, Jiang He.

But before Zhao Shilin could learn more, Jiang He had been abducted by distant relatives, and Zhao Shilin never saw him again. Until now, after all these years, when news of Jiang He had finally reached him.

Li Bu, like Zhao Lao, had never believed in fate and destiny. Yet, at this moment, he couldn’t help but think that the world was a wondrous place.

Jiang He’s case was far more complex. Over the next few years, he demonstrated exceptional observation and memory skills that surpassed those of ordinary people. He could recite a book backwards, a task that would take others many attempts to memorize. He could remember the license plate number of a car he saw three years prior. Medically, this condition was known as hyperemesis gravidarum, or extreme memory disorder. Old Zhao couldn’t help but mutter to himself.

Li Bu, the chief, nodded in agreement. “Yes, he has a super memory disorder. It’s no surprise that he has superior observation skills to others. He can’t forget anything. Whatever he’s experienced, he will remember it for the rest of his life.” Li Bu continued, “He can even notice the slightest change.”

“That should be a happy thing,” Li Bu said.

“That should be a painful experience,” Zhao Lao retorted.

The two exchanged a perplexed glance, wondering how they had come to such opposing conclusions.

From the way they looked at each other, something extremely rude seemed to be conveyed through their eyes, a silent, forced communication.

“How could it possibly be painful?” Li Bu asked.

“Who wouldn’t want to remember everything? Did you not pass the fourth level when you were in college ^{*Note 1}?” Zhao Lao teased.

“Jiang He’s university records were not found,” Li Bu replied.

“And that’s that,” Old Zhao said.

However, as Zhao Lao realized, while others could only see the benefits of such a condition, he would never know the pain that accompanied it.

“However, one thing is clear,” Mr. Zhao declared, taking control of the conversation once again.

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Note 1: Some sort of Chinese meme

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