Lei Mi - Profiler

Du Yu was also out watching the commotion, but when he heard this he came running over and opened the door.

Pushing Fang Mu into the room, Little Zhang said, "Don't go running off anywhere." Then he turned to Du Yu and said, "You keep an eye on him." He walked out and slammed the door.

Hands at his sides, Fang Mu just stood there for several seconds. Then he slowly walked over to his bed and collapsed on it.

Giving him a worried look, Du Yu said cautiously, "Fang Mu, you want something to drink?"

Fang Mu didn't say anything, just slowly shook his head. He lay there only seconds before he suddenly leapt out of bed, threw open the door, and ran toward Meng Fanzhe's room. He pushed through the crowd gathered there until he had reached the doorway. He lifted the police tape stretched across it and headed inside.

A number of police were already inside inspecting the scene. Little Zhang was among them. Seeing Fang Mu enter, he rushed over to stop him.

"What the hell are you trying to do now?" he asked.

"What have you guys found?" asked Fang Mu anxiously.

The other cops just looked at one another.

Now Little Zhang was angry and he turned Fang Mu around and led him towards the door. "Get out of here. This isn't your business. If we find anything, Tai Wei will let you know.

Fang Mu shoved the cop's hand off of him and darted back into the room, yelling, "Just what have you guys found?"

"Fang Mu!" Little Zhang yelled, sliding a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "You're obstructing police business. Don't make me do this!"

Pushing through the crowd, Du Yu grabbed Fang Mu and pulled him away, saying quietly, "Brother, let's head back now; you can figure the rest out tomorrow."

Still fuming, Little Zhang turned to one of the security guards standing nearby. "Make all these students return to their dorms! They're getting in the way of our work!"

One after another, the security guards sprang into action. "Everyone back to your dorms," they told the curious students. "Anyone who sticks his head out again will receive a public criticism… No, a demerit in their permanent record!"

After being dragged by Du Yu back inside their room, Fang Mu stood by the door for a long time, his breath coming heavily. Before he could even catch his breath, he suddenly tore open one of his desk drawers, grabbed several thick brown paper folders, and tossed them on the desktop with a thud. He pulled several stacks of files out of them and began studying each in silence.

Du Yu stood some distance away, cautiously trying to see what Fang Mu was looking at. He could just barely make out several pictures of blood-soaked murder scenes and could hear his roommate whispering to himself.

"Impossible," Fang Mu murmured. "It can't be him… It can't be him…"

Where am I?

My head hurts so bad, like it's gonna explode…

What did I do…?

…

"Do you have a lucky number?"

"No, I don't really believe in that kind of stuff. Anyway, the reason I came this time was — "

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Do you know which number the majority of people like the most?"

"I don't know. Is it…eight?"

"Only Chinese people think that way. And mainly just the nouveau riche and low-class, rural moneybags. (Translator’s note: The Chinese word for eight is pronounced ba, meaning "to get rich.") Look, you're smiling. I told you, don't be anxious."

"I'm not anxious, it's just that I feel…I feel like we've sort of taken a step backward. Because the past few days in class, I started to be afraid of roll call again."

"Oh? When did this begin?"

"The last time…the last time we met."

"Don't worry; this is very normal. Some things need to be repeatedly reinforced before you can reach the optimum result."

"I hope you can help me."

"All right, but you must follow what I say exactly. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

…

My God, now I remember…

Fang Mu, are you dead?

…

"What should I do? Tell me, what should I do?"

"Don't worry; let me think."

"I embarrassed myself so badly today. I was in front of so many people and I just couldn't say 'here'…"

"Perhaps we should change tactics; however, this other tactic will probably seem a little harsh. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I…"

"If you can succeed, you will eliminate this fear forever."

There was a pause.

"But if you feel that you are simply a weak person, then forget it. I can't help you."

"…I…I'm willing to try."

"Very good. Now I want you to lie down on that couch. Relax, and then we will began."

There was a moment.

"You are now in class. Try and imagine it. Your classmates are all around you. There are so many people… The teacher takes the attendance sheet…begins reading the names one by one…Meng Fanzhe!"

Pause.

"Meng Fanzhe!"

He writhed uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his face.

"Meng Fanzhe!"

"Meng Fanzhe!"

"Meng Fanzhe!"

"Meng Fanzhe!"

"Aghh!"

…

It's so cold…

My arms and legs won't move. I want to hold my shoulders, but I can't…

Help me, help me…

…

"Are you scared of death?"

"Of course; who isn't scared of death?"

"Actually, there's nothing scary about death. What do you do when you feel unhappy?"

"Um, play video games, or hole up and sleep for a long time."

"Is that so? Actually, death is just a much longer kind of sleep. In it you can forget all your troubles. Many people would rather die than lose their dignity. Have you heard of Hemingway?"

"Yeah, The Old Man and the Sea ."

"When faced with an incurable disease, he chose to kill himself rather than forfeit his dignity. To be honest, sometimes I really envy him."

A pause.

…

What should I do?

Did I kill someone?

I'm finished…

…

"Have you ever noticed that seven is a very interesting number?"

"Oh, is that so?"

"Think about it. There are seven days in the week, seven colors in the spectrum, seven notes in the diatonic scale. Therefore, seven symbolizes satisfaction."

"Oh, is that so?"

"And when you're satisfied, there's nothing else to worry about, isn't that right?"

…

I'm a murderer…

Everyone will know that I'm a murderer…

For the rest of her life my mother will be filled with shame…

I'm twenty-four…

My life, this is how it ends…

…

"Take this…go back to your dorm room…search your surroundings, find the number seven…there you will fulfill all your desires…"

…

It's hopeless…

It's hopeless…

…

Fang Mu didn't fall asleep until nearly four in the morning, and he was still at his desk.

He awoke later that day to the noise of people bustling about outside. A feeling of discomfort hung over him. His chest hurt from having been pressed against the edge of the desk and his body felt heavy. He struggled to stand up. A blanket lay on the floor behind him. He figured Du Yu must have placed it over his shoulders.

His finger ached, too. Blood had leaked through the gauze. He must have reopened it in the commotion last night.

But he didn't care about any of this. Reaching unsteadily for the cup on his desk, he downed the lukewarm water in one gulp.

Too impatient to wash his face, he quickly organized his things and got ready to leave.

He had to see Meng Fanzhe that day. All the clues indicated that he could not be the killer. However, some questions remained, and only Meng Fanzhe could answer them.

As Fang Mu opened the door to leave, he bumped into someone standing the hallway.