Episode 22: The Seventh Shadow

The night was deep, and Situ Hengyi wandered alone through the streets. The case weighed on him, dull and heavy, making no progress, and the sense of helplessness and powerlessness left him feeling suffocated. He looked up and found himself at Art Gallery No. 76. The gallery was already empty, and the portraits on the walls cast long shadows in the dim yellow light.

They were a few rather eerie paintings, abstract images of a person crushed by darkness, and they made his heart crawl as he looked at them. He turned to look at the gallery itself — its steel and concrete exterior like a huge cage, giving off a sense of oppression.

Situ Hengyi walked along the corridor on the second floor, his footsteps echoing across the empty floor, drawing out a kind of almost hollow reverberation.

Suddenly, a faintly cool breeze brushed past him. He thought it was the air conditioning, but the air carried a familiar fragrance — faint and quietly elegant — and a song he knew, as if it were the song Yu Mengge had sung while he was alive.

Ahead of him, the door of the studio slowly opened, and a soft light spilled out from inside.

In the light stood a figure — a white shirt, his head tilted slightly upward, his gaze gentle, his features refined, a faint smile on his face. It was Yu Mengge.

He said nothing, only smiled, his eyes offering comfort, yet carrying a coldness that did not belong to this mortal world.

Situ Hengyi held his breath, his steps drawing closer of their own accord. “Yu Mengge?” he murmured, his voice almost dissolving in the empty corridor.

He nodded lightly, as if confirming, and as if inviting him into a space that belonged to the two of them alone.

The light flowed like water, and the boundaries of space gradually blurred. Yu Mengge stretched out his hand, his fingertips touching neither the ground nor Situ Hengyi, yet making him feel a warm pull.

“Officer Situ… you should not sink into so much darkness for my sake.” His voice was gentle, like wind, like drops of water.

“I… I must find the truth.”

Situ Hengyi's voice trembled, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes resolute and full of longing.

Yu Mengge looked into his resolute eyes, a trace of sorrow showing through: “Find the seventh shadow.”

Situ Hengyi stepped forward and asked again, “Tell me, what must I do?”

Yu Mengge smiled, a faint sadness flashing in his eyes: “The truth sometimes… is not seen with the eyes, but borne with the heart. What I left behind is only the light to guide you forward.”

He circled around him, like a shadow and like flowing light, every movement soft yet certain in its rhythm.

“You must understand, this world's darkness… someone must face it, someone must bear it, someone must guard against it.”

Situ Hengyi lowered his head. “You… you, in the end… how did you die?”

His eyes flashed with a trace of pain, and his outstretched hand grew farther and farther away, like ripples slowly fading on water: “This… I cannot tell you… you must find it yourself.”

A flash of light passed—

He felt the whole world being pulled away from him, the air cold to the bone, his body losing all weight, as though he were about to fall.

In an instant, Situ Hengyi opened his eyes—

Only to find himself rolling off Qin Shaohua's sofa onto the floor, his knee striking the wooden floor with a dull thud.

Qin Shaohua cried out in alarm, “Situ, what are you doing!”

He gasped for breath, his hands in fists, his heartbeat pounding like a drum, his eyes still holding that lingering phantom—

Yu Mengge's smile, his song, his voice, his light…

That sense of presence, at once familiar and far away, like a god giving guidance, like a dream visit, so real.

Situ Hengyi murmured to himself, “…He really… is still somewhere… guiding us.”

Qin Shaohua looked at him as if he were seeing things, picked up a coffee sweet, and stuffed it into his hand, saying coldly, “Yesterday, you slept at my place for a whole day. You must have seen a ghost!”

Situ Hengyi thought for a moment, his brow furrowed, and replied carefully, “We seem to have missed something?”

Outside the office window, the night wind blew gently in through the window, stirring the papers with a rustling sound.

Everything seemed as if it had never happened, and yet everything seemed to be reminding him—

That the darkness was not yet over, and that light and truth were both waiting for him to pursue them.

Situ Hengyi and Qin Shaohua had found information related to the case, but there were still many doubts, and no breakthrough to be found, which made Situ Hengyi feel the case growing ever more tangled. The key figure in the case was Jiang Yanzhou.

He was the manager of Yu Mengge and Qiao Lingchuan, and every artist he managed had died in an accident, yet he was still in the entertainment world. According to his file, he was a very clean man, but instinct told Situ Hengyi that the cleaner a man was, the more likely there was something wrong with him. And when he saw that old photograph, with Jiang Yanzhou among Tianze's senior executives, it was clear he was the key figure in all the cases.

There was also a mole inside the police station, which meant all information inside the station was under their control. Only someone in senior police ranks could have kept the Yu case suppressed, and Su Yizhou certainly did not have that much power. As for what role Luo Jin played in this case — was he merely following orders, or orders from an even higher level? He could not startle the snake in the grass. Then he thought of a person mentioned in the voice recorder — Tian Sirong.

Qin Shaohua brewed a pot of coffee, elegantly tidied the files, and checked the information they had obtained. He picked up a cup of hot coffee, took a sip, and turned to look at Situ Hengyi curled up on the sofa, asleep all night, awake now and staring blankly again. Wearing his gold-rimmed glasses, he glanced back at the clock, his expression natural, his tone leisurely: “Officer Situ, what are you thinking about?”

Situ Hengyi rose and gazed out the window, where the sunlight was bright. He took a deep breath and turned back to say, “Let's go find the seventh shadow!”

Qin Shaohua tapped a few keys, a cold smile showing on his face. “Now I have all the clues in hand, sorted into a reasonable explanation. Take a look.”

Situ Hengyi walked over and looked at the complete chart on the laptop, neat and detailed, the relationship diagram done very well — clearer than the work of the professional crime analysts at the station. He praised him: “What kind of person are you, exactly? You can make such complicated relationships so clear.”

Qin Shaohua laughed coldly. “It's rare to be praised by you.” He tapped a key and analysed the matter in very professional terms: “Now we have two key figures. One is Jiang Yanzhou, and the other is Tian Sirong.” He circled them on the screen with a stylus and went on, “From the information I have obtained, He Yuchuan is only an agent. Someone behind the scenes controls the whole system. To be able to reach into the police system, clearly this person is no simple figure. To be able to suppress the Yu case, his power is very great — not something a few capitalists could control.”

Situ Hengyi thought deeply for a few seconds, looking at the relationship diagram on the screen and at the artists who had died, starting from Qiao Lingchuan. None of them had died by accident. The more he thought about it, the more his scalp prickled, his stomach churned with acid, and a chill ran down his spine. He recovered himself and spoke: “The Judge spoke of seventeen people. Could they be connected to the Yu case? Has he already killed eight?”

Qin Shaohua brought up another document, pointing at the relationship chart he had sorted out, and said seriously, “I have sorted out all the artists who died in these three years after Yu Mengge's death, as well as some investors connected to the entertainment world. These nine people are all connected, and they all know one another. Fang Jin and Shen Yao are directors, and they once worked together, at the Rotten Mango Awards. Fan Zhiqi knew all of them and worked with them several times. As for Song Yiyi, that goes without saying. But they share one thing: after the Yu case, they all gained a great many resources.”

Situ Hengyi thought for a few seconds, his expression solemn, his brow tightly furrowed: “These seventeen people — could they be the executors, with someone behind them actually in control — the real mastermind?”

Qin Shaohua looked up at him, took a sip of hot coffee, and laughed coldly. “I think we could cooperate with ‘the Judge.’ He knows a great deal of inside information, and he has evidence. Naturally, those masterminds behind the scenes would surface.”

Situ Hengyi waved his hand. “That is illegally obtained evidence. In court it would not be admitted. Whether the Judge is friend or foe, we don't know.”

Qin Shaohua mocked him, “If the law could protect human life, there wouldn't be so many wrongful cases and unsolved cases? Then the Judge would never have appeared.”

Situ Hengyi froze, left speechless, and in that moment helpless — unable to seek the truth through normal means, and unable to give the victims justice.

The next day, Qin Shaohua received a call from Xia Zilan, saying he wanted to thank him for resolving the Lu Zilan matter, and to thank Situ Hengyi for his help in freeing him from the storm of public opinion. He had booked a private room at a hotel and invited them to share a meal together.

As night deepened and neon lights flickered outside the window, Qin Shaohua arrived at the hotel as promised. Xia Zilan had booked a secluded room, from which the lights of the whole city could be seen. The red wine on the table glowed a deep red, and the atmosphere seemed relaxed, yet there was a faint undercurrent of oppression.

“Stop thinking about the case all the time. Your two blockheaded subordinates are quite serious about it — they investigate as if they don't care about their lives.” Qin Shaohua looked at his gloomy face, as if someone owed him a pile of debts. “Today, just enjoy a candlelit dinner and enjoy the fact that this world is still beautiful!”

Situ Hengyi sat down, his expression calm, still carrying a policeman's wariness. “Qin Shaohua, why exactly did you become a lawyer?”

Qin Shaohua smiled, his gaze focused, and set down his wine glass. “To guard justice? That's a lie! I just think this profession suits me. Justice, in the eyes of the world, is all an illusion.”

The two men looked at each other, each understanding in his heart that there was more behind the words.

“Justice?” Situ Hengyi uttered the two words in a low voice, heavy and cold as lead. “Why are you investigating this case?”

Qin Shaohua's fingertips tapped lightly on the rim of his wine glass, his tone slow: “In my life's motto, only death is justice.”

Neon light shone through the floor-to-ceiling window into the room, glinting on the wine glasses. Qin Shaohua put away his elegant expression and gazed coldly out at the night. Tonight was especially gentle, yet he had no heart to enjoy the enchanting night view. No one knew what he was thinking.

Just then, Xia Zilan pushed the door open and broke the awkward atmosphere. He said with a grin, “I'm late. I just had a last-minute engagement, and I rushed straight over.” He was still wearing his performance costume, glittering all over like a Christmas tree. “Sister Bai is handling the aftermath for me!”

He sat down, leaning against the window, took off his coat, and removed the colourful decorations from his body, smiling, though with a touch of nervousness, a glass of red wine in his hand.

“Officer Situ, Lawyer Qin, I'm late today, and I'm truly sorry! This dinner is not only to thank you, but also because… I want to tell some truths.” He spoke in a low voice, with a seriousness that could not be ignored.

Situ Hengyi looked at his bashful face and said coldly, “Xia Zilan, you've been quite popular lately!”

Qin Shaohua held his wine glass, smiling elegantly, his gaze calm yet alert. “Bai Yujing lets you come out and socialize with us — someone who didn't know better would think she was your elder sister!”

Xia Zilan took a sip of wine, recovered his spirits, and laughed. “She is a very good manager. She just has to manage me every day. Ever since my debut, she has always looked after me, and she and Jiang Yanzhou are old acquaintances!”

Situ Hengyi asked, “Old acquaintances? They knew each other before?”

Xia Zilan nodded. “They were senior and junior fellow students, both in finance. Jiang Yanzhou is some kind of financial trading analyst — he looks very impressive…”

Situ Hengyi asked again, “Tian Sirong — do you know her?”

Xia Zilan thought back to that old woman and immediately dropped his expression, shaking his head. “Not good. Every time we meet, she wants to invite me to dinner, but I just don't want to deal with a person like that. People in the circle say she has a circle of her own, something like a ‘murder party,’ but it sounds very strange, and I don't know if it's true.”

Qin Shaohua swirled the wine glass in his hand, cutting him off, and asked elegantly, “What truths do you want to tell?”

Xia Zilan lowered his head slightly, his hand turning the wine glass around and around. “Tianze Entertainment… is not just entertainment. They control public opinion, manipulate the media, and even the news of people's deaths gets altered. Song Yiyi, Fan Zhiqi… before they died, their mental states all had problems?”

Situ frowned. “Mental states?”

He sighed. “In Fan Zhiqi's last few days on set, he often saw people who weren't there, saying someone was watching him, often shouting that ghosts had come to claim his life. In Song Yiyi's last few days, she always talked to herself, as if speaking to someone invisible, and some even said she once received a call from ‘the Judge,’ who told her to go to hell, and then she went completely mad… This spread like wildfire in the entertainment circle — they said Yu Mengge had come to claim her life.”

Qin Shaohua's fingers tapped lightly on the table, his tone cold. “The entertainment circle has many secrets that cannot be told.”

Xia Zilan added in a low voice, “And there are stranger things… Set surveillance cameras often break for no reason, actors' contracts hide strange remaining payments, as if… someone is controlling fate. I know I can't say too much, but I know that if no one investigates this clearly, more people will die.”

Situ Hengyi looked at him, his expression grave. “You dare to say these things — you have already taken a great risk.”

He pressed his lips together, tasted a sip of red wine, and looked straight at Situ Hengyi. “So, I hope you can understand, this is not an ordinary entertainment company case. This is… someone laying out a plan behind the scenes, even controlling artists' life and death.”

Qin Shaohua nodded. “We will investigate. Xia Zilan, everything you said today is very important.”

Xia Zilan smiled slightly, but the smile was bitter. “But, Lawyer Qin, the senior executives' offices really can't be entered. You won't get the evidence you want.” He turned to Situ Hengyi and said shyly, “Officer Situ, can I ask you a favour?”

Situ Hengyi's expression was cold as he looked at his innocent face. “What is it?”

Xia Zilan said quietly, “Recently I'm going to film a fashion suspense drama. Could I intern at the police station with you for a while, so I can fully experience a policeman's life and truly get into the role?”

Situ Hengyi shook his head. “No. The police station is not the entertainment circle. If you come, the station will become a place for fans to chase stars.”

Qin Shaohua smiled, picked up his wine glass, and raised it to them, saying with a cold laugh, “Situ, this is a good seedling. Why not take him as your apprentice?”

Situ Hengyi said coldly, “No! That place is a jumble of all sorts, good and bad alike. You'd only be making trouble for me.”

Outside the window, thunder rumbled low, and the lights flickered, falling on the three men's faces, the atmosphere unusually heavy.

Situ Hengyi raised his glass and said quietly, “Then let's drink to these strange truths… hoping the living can see clearly.”

Qin Shaohua nodded slightly, a cold light flashing in his eyes. “And to those swallowed by lies.”

Xia Zilan took a sip of wine, trembling slightly, as if reminding them — the real storm had not yet begun.