Episode 9: Cracks Beneath Light and Shadow

Another day had passed. It was five in the morning, the sky grey and overcast. In September weather, the air was filled with a mouldy smell. The sewer pipes, repaired over and over again, were dug up and repaired, and after a few weeks dug up again to be repaired. The stench of wastewater was suffocating. Every day the roads were congested with traffic, yet people still followed these rules, afraid of wasting their own time — but time had never given them a chance.

After Situ Hengyi returned to the police station, he thought back on last night's experience — truly hair-raising. He could not tell anyone at the station about it. He always felt the case could not progress, that someone must be stopping it, so that the case would not come to light. He flipped through the materials Qin Lang had sent: a stack of all of Yu Mengge's files from before his death, along with his related works and his personal albums, as well as the many charitable activities he had done in his lifetime — building many libraries for children in mountain areas, and regularly donating money every year to those impoverished children. He had graduated from a music academy, had loved music since childhood, and in junior high had become very interested in photography. He directed and performed in his own music videos himself. To fulfil his music dream, he never gave up. In his spare time he would personally write lyrics and compose music, yet his agency never promoted his works. Every one of his songs was crafted by himself.

He had lost his father when he was very young and had been raised by his mother ever since. He loved his mother dearly, as well as his fans. At every concert, he would tell his fans in advance to be careful about safety, and whenever he received small gifts from fans, he would be very happy, smiling like a little child.

After Situ Hengyi finished reading Yu Mengge's files, he was indeed a very good artist, someone who could be grateful to society and who was multi-talented. Who on earth had driven him to a dead end? He should not have had such an ending.

Lin Fan came over carrying a cup of tea, saw Situ Hengyi sitting alone in his chair lost in thought, and patted him on the shoulder. "Boss, you think Yu Mengge is a pretty good artist too, don't you!"

Situ Hengyi collected himself, resuming an indifferent air, and said sternly, "I'm investigating a case. What progress have you made?"

Lin Fan shook his head, full of grievance, frowning miserably. "Today, I went to Old Zhao's place and grovelled, but I still couldn't find the old files. It's as if someone deliberately wants to erase everything related to the Yu case."

Situ Hengyi asked again, "Do you think someone in our bureau is eavesdropping?"

Lin Fan glanced around and said softly, "Boss, you don't suspect there's a mole in the bureau, do you?"

Situ Hengyi's brow furrowed as he sighed. "In a while, go find Qin Lang. I have a document for him to look at — ask him about the medical report. Hand it to him personally; no one else must see it."

For all the cases, there were no leads at all. He suspected they were connected to the Yu case from three years ago. Many suspicious points had been left at the scene, but whenever he was about to get to the key point, someone would always get there first and destroy the relevant evidence.

Was that mysterious "Judge" simply judging them? Who exactly were they? Was Fang Jin killed by him? Was Fan Shiqi's madness also driven by him into a mental breakdown? Why force a person like that, making him experience suffering? It seemed all the doubts were connected to the Yu Mengge case, while someone else was controlling public opinion, banning reports on the related content, fundamentally steering the audience.

At this moment, a police officer hurried in, shouting excitedly, "Team leader, look — big news, a reality show..."

Seeing his gleeful look, Situ Hengyi could not muster any interest and said coldly, "Wang Yuan, you're never this enthusiastic when investigating a case. What reality show?"

Wang Yuan scratched his head, a boyish smile on his face, lightening the mood as he laughed, "Team leader, investigating cases is important, but life needs fun too."

With that, he opened the online livestream, brimming with excitement. "Look, this livestream is really explosive! It's about to start!"

At three in the morning, the major social platforms of the entertainment world were suddenly blown open by a push notification — a scheduled livestream.

It was crowded with media outlets, entertainment reporters, and members of the public who liked to join the excitement. Receiving the livestream preview, they immediately stayed up all night to wait for it, and the livestream room filled with people.

When the livestream time arrived, the screen lit up, the audience crowded into the livestream room — a sealed world, a frightened woman —

[#TruthTrial#]

"Everyone who lies should say aloud whom they have harmed."

When the livestream began, within just a few minutes, millions of people poured into that anonymous livestream. At first, the picture showed only a blinding white light; as the camera shook, a transparent sealed chamber appeared, inside it a woman — Song Yiyi.

Her face was covered in cold sweat, her eyes terrified, the oxygen gauge's needle dropping little by little, while a mechanical voice sounded in the background:

"Song Yiyi, you have fifteen minutes. Just tell the truth about what happened back then, and the oxygen will be restored. If you stay silent — you will die of oxygen deprivation."

Song Yiyi frantically pounded on the chamber walls, shouting, "Who's there! What do you want!"

But all that answered her were the comments and bullet-screen messages from countless viewers before the camera.

"Fake, right? Is this a promo video?"

"Her acting... is way too real."

"Damn, is she really crying? Is the oxygen really dropping!"

"A reality show! So thrilling!"

"Just want to watch how she dies!"

The number of people in the livestream room was rising rapidly. The public, driven by curiosity, watched this wonderful scene, while Song Yiyi remained as arrogant as ever, continuing to curse, "Which bastard is it — do you know who I am?"

The comments in the livestream room began to turn abusive:

"How is she still alive!"

"No fun at all — how is she still alive!"

"She specialises in finding young, handsome guys for those big-shot capitalists!"

"So she's really a madam figure!"

"Thought she'd be joking with us!"

By now, Song Yiyi's makeup was completely ruined, black eyeliner crying her whole eyes into panda eyes, her whole person a sorry spectacle, blood on her fingertips mingled with tear streaks. Panting, her voice trembling, she said, "I don't know, I don't know anything..."

The mechanical voice sounded again, saying coldly, "Tell — the shady dealings you took part in. Tell — the truth you covered up."

The oxygen gauge dropped again.

She was driven mad, her face pale, and began shouting in a trembling voice, "Fine! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

She began frantically exposing everything — I used my resources in the industry to introduce male actors and female actors to directors, producers, and big-shot capitalists, taking a cut from it; if actors wanted resources, they had to accept this rule; those first-line stars were all commodities with clear price tags, all playthings of some senior figure; the entertainment industry was a money-laundering tool, becoming chips for those capital interests... With every name she spoke, the oxygen gauge rose one notch.

The livestream room instantly exploded, viewers leaving comments in the bullet screen:

"She really spilled it — these stars are all commodities!"

"Why isn't she dead yet!"

"Does she have more dirt she hasn't told!"

The trending searches were flooded. Netizens witnessed this "confession record," dumbfounded. The stars they had always thought approachable turned out, behind their glamour, to be wolves in sheep's clothing, while behind the scenes, the one controlling all of this — the "Judge" — quietly watched the screen, his eyes cold as water.

Song Yiyi's voice grew weaker and weaker. She clutched her chest, almost suffocating. Trembling, she cried, "I said it! I've said it all! What do you want!"

The voice from the other end of the screen was low and merciless. "What you said was all about other people's offences. What about yours?"

Song Yiyi's pupils dilated, her breathing rapid, tears mingled with sweat sliding down. With effort, she said, "I... I was only doing what they told me to do! Back then everyone was afraid that matter would be exposed..."

"That matter?" the voice asked again.

"Whose death?"

Song Yiyi suddenly clamped her mouth shut, and the whole space fell into dead silence. She knew — as soon as she spoke that name, she would be silenced by the real black hand.

She shook her head frantically, crying out, "I can't say it! You don't understand! You simply don't understand — they won't let me go!"

The oxygen gauge hit zero, the picture gradually blurred, leaving only her hand desperately clutching the chamber wall, blood sliding down inch by inch.

The final image was her writing a single character on the glass with her fingertip — "Yu."

The screen went black.

The livestream ended.

At this moment, in the darkness of the world, a bright star seemed to light up, illuminating the way forward for those seeking the truth, while some people, at this moment, fell into hell.

The internet exploded. Police and media intervened, and the storm of public opinion rose again. Trending searches were full of all kinds of discussions. Some self-media bloggers made special series of reports, analysing the whole event from start to finish, while somewhere in a monitoring room, the "Judge" slowly removed his mask, his finger tracing that character, his voice so low it was almost inaudible:

"Finally, someone remembers him."

All the way into the night, the city's sky remained dim and lightless, a hazy drizzle falling, a slight autumn breeze blowing, giving a chill. September weather — not warm, not cold, but at night the temperature dropped, and people, busy all day, still dragged their weary bodies through this city full of illusion, going to work and coming home, repeating the same day every day, because they had to survive.

Situ Hengyi felt a chill down his spine. Having watched the whole #realityshow# livestream, he could not help his scalp tingling. The police station's hotline was almost blown up with calls asking about the progress of the case. What the public cared about was not whether the person was actually dead or not, or whether the trial could continue — some people even cheered for the "Judge" and became loyal fans.

The senior leadership of the police station was also very worried about the heat of this case, which had already caused a great response in society and become a hot public topic. Even suppressing public opinion would cause a bigger backlash, and some members of the public even believed the "Judge" was right to punish, and had formed a community group promoting fighting evil with evil —

Situ Hengyi stood in the command centre, before him a pile of case files and rapidly updating online materials, the screen flashing with the replay of the [#TruthTrial#] livestream.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, yet his eyes were full of helplessness and doubt. This was an unprecedented livestream trial, with layers of suspense building around Yu Mengge's death.

But he knew — things were not as simple as they appeared on the surface.

"Everyone is shifting the blame in this matter."

Standing beside him, senior police official Section Chief Peng Shang looked nervous, his brow tightly furrowed, and said in a low voice, "Song Yiyi's situation is still unclear. Netizens online have all sided with the 'Judge.' Are these people crazy? They don't treat us police personnel as anything at all, and they mock the police as incompetent — the comment threads are full of nothing but abuse aimed at us —"

Lin Fan was almost overwhelmed after several hours of continuous bombardment, answering calls, both hands constantly taking hotline calls, to the point that even answering his mobile phone had become a pathological reflex. "This is the Chengbei Branch. We will record your questions one by one..."

Wang Yuan laughed heartily. "Lin Fan, you've mistaken me for a public hotline. I just checked here — there are no clues at all."

Situ Hengyi gripped his pen tightly, staring at the key video replay. This livestream was a declaration of war against the black hand behind the scenes, and a trace of determination flashed in his eyes. "The 'Judge' is not wrong. His actions are not just personal revenge — there is a bigger hidden story behind them."

Section Chief Peng Shang took a deep breath, his brow tightly furrowed, and exclaimed, "How does he use the internet to connect with these dark sides of the entertainment industry? He leaves no trace at all — whether satellite surveillance or internal systems, he simply cannot be tracked."

Lin Fan looked at the information package and sighed. "He wouldn't hide himself in the internet."

She had no strength left in either hand, her ears numb from listening. After a day of hotline calls, the bureau's phones had been blown up. The public were all questioning the progress of the case, or else cursing the police's incompetence, or else supporting the "Judge" in punishing evil and promoting good... Su Yizhou seemed to have vanished into thin air. As bureau chief, he had actually gone invisible at this moment, and the bureau was in complete chaos.

Situ Hengyi's eyes turned cold, and he turned to his own spread-out files. "But he doesn't hide completely. He wants us to find him."

He pointed to the last scene in Song Yiyi's livestream, that character "Yu" —

"This is an obvious message. The Judge knows his own inevitable endgame."

He paused, took a deep breath, and said, "We need to focus our attention on Song Yiyi. What she holds is not only the truth of the past, but also those secrets of the entertainment industry that can never be made public."

"But she has now disappeared," Peng Shang said hesitantly. "Song Yiyi's whereabouts are unknown. All hotel surveillance shows she has already left."

Situ Hengyi narrowed his eyes, a surge of unease rising in his heart. "She's gone into hiding — not to escape, but because — she's afraid."

He suddenly stood up, pointing at another set of materials. "We've also overlooked one point: the Judge's behaviour pattern is very much like certain characters forced into revenge. This is not a mere whim, but — he is already prepared to make enemies of all forces."

"Then what's the next plan?" Peng Shang asked.

Situ Hengyi slowly walked to the window, gazing at the night sky, his eyes deep. "We need to talk to the 'Judge' — no longer simply tracking him down, but luring him into revealing a flaw."

Peng Shang asked again, "What about Song Yiyi? Are we just ignoring her?"

Situ Hengyi's eyes shifted, as if an idea had formed, and he blurted out, "We can wait. Since this is a trial, of course there's more than one person. Besides, the Judge doesn't intend to take her life. Once she speaks out, those forces will take Song Yiyi's life."

He turned back to look at Peng Shang, his voice low. "We will unleash every means available, and make all sides in the entertainment industry understand — this is not just about Yu Mengge."