Chapter Eleven: The Eccentric

Everything in Cong Fangfang’s room appeared orderly, showing no signs of a hurried departure. A thin layer of dust covered her nightstand and vanity, consistent with someone who had been away for a week. Her laptop, tablet, and other valuables remained in the room, neatly stored and clearly untouched or stolen.

Yan Xue and Kang Ge walked through the space and concluded that there was no loss of property. As with all other signs in this case, it was evident that the perpetrator had not been motivated by money from the start.

Li Xiaoguo had long since ceased to accompany them. As a housemate, her initial enthusiasm was largely fueled by curiosity; now that her curiosity—and her need to vent—had been satisfied, she naturally distanced herself to attend to her own business. Furthermore, knowing that Kang Ge and Yan Xue intended to speak with the male housemate, Li Xiaoguo was far too terrified of him to get involved.

After photographing the room in its entirety and detail, Kang Ge packed up Cong Fangfang’s laptop and tablet to take back to the station for further forensic examination. He then retrieved the spare key the landlord had hidden in a discreet corner, locked the door, and applied a seal to prevent unauthorized entry. While the gesture was largely symbolic—if the culprit were indeed one of the housemates, any tampering would have been completed during the week Cong Fangfang had been missing without anyone noticing—the procedure was necessary nonetheless.

Once finished, the two crossed the small living room to the bedroom closest to the entrance. Kang Ge knocked, but the sound of the television inside persisted, so he knocked again, harder.

Finally, the noise ceased. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a man standing expressionless in the frame. He was in his thirties, of average height and unremarkable appearance. He wore casual loungewear and held half a spicy snack strip in his hand, the red chili oil dripping down his fingers toward his palm.

Under normal circumstances, the man would have seemed harmless—a guy in flannel loungewear, hunkered down in his room eating snacks and watching TV. How much of a threat could such a person pose? Yet, the moment Yan Xue saw him, she understood exactly why Li Xiaoguo was so afraid of him.

At the instant the door opened, the man had cast a swift, practiced glance at them from the corner of his eye before looking away. It was a fluid, habitual motion.

"Hello, we are from the W City Public Security Bureau. You knew Cong Fangfang, who rented here with you, right? Something has happened to her, so we are here to gather some information." Kang Ge greeted him with a smile and extended his hand.

The gesture seemed to make the man uncomfortable. He hesitated before extending his own hand for a brief, quick shake, then pulled away, his eyes once again scanning Kang Ge from the corner of his gaze.

"What should we call you?" Kang Ge asked while handing over his business card.

"Oh, I’m Wei Guangji." The man took the card with a stiff posture, clutching it in one hand while the other held the half-eaten snack strip, the red oil still slowly tracing a line down his wrist.

"Would you mind if we came in to talk? It might be inconvenient to stand here," Kang Ge suggested politely.

Wei Guangji did not move, maintaining his rigid stance. "No, it’s not inconvenient," he replied earnestly, as if he had missed the subtext entirely. There was no sign he was playing dumb; he simply could not bring himself to meet their eyes.

Since he had already spoken, Kang Ge nodded and dropped the matter. He pointed to the man’s wrist. "Alright, we’ll talk here then. But before that, don't you need to tend to your sleeve? Maybe wipe that off with a tissue?"

Wei Guangji looked down at his wrist, noticing the red oil that had seeped into the fabric of his flannel cuff, leaving a small stain. He turned back into his room, placed Kang Ge’s card meticulously on the corner of his desk, grabbed a tissue to throw away the snack strip, and then began wiping his hands and sleeve with obsessive care.

Taking advantage of the moment, Yan Xue peered into Wei Guangji’s room. It was much more spacious than the others and clearly the domain of a solitary man, devoid of any feminine touches. Directly opposite the door was a small, cramped bathroom with a shower, a toilet, and a sink. The main living space was furnished simply: a large bookshelf, a large desk, and a double bed with blue-and-white checkered sheets.

What caught her attention most were the books. The shelves were packed, and stacks of books and A4 paper covered the desk, leaving only a tiny space in the middle for a laptop, which was paused on an unfamiliar television drama. Even the double bed was mostly covered in books, some open, some closed, leaving only enough room for one person to sleep on the edge. It was the first time Yan Xue had seen so many books in a rented room—easily over a hundred.

Wei Guangji returned, his hands empty and appearing even more uneasy, clutching his right wrist with his left hand as his gaze wandered elsewhere.

"Don't be nervous. This is just a routine inquiry," Yan Xue said.

Wei Guangji flicked a quick glance at her and nodded, his posture unchanging. Yan Xue did not try to reassure him further; she knew that when someone was genuinely nervous, words of comfort were useless.

"How well did you know Cong Fangfang?" she asked.

Without looking at her, he kept his eyes lowered toward his slippers, as if they were a teleprompter. "Not well. We’d run into each other at home and speak, but we weren't close."

"To what extent did you know her? Or, to be more specific, did you ever see her bring friends home?"

Wei Guangji looked up for a second, then lowered his gaze again. "I don't recall, so she probably didn't."

"You don't recall... so that means she didn't?" Yan Xue asked, puzzled by his tone. She had never heard someone give such a subjective and seemingly unreliable answer with such certainty.

"Yes, I have a good memory," Wei Guangji replied, confirming her suspicion with a serious nod.

"Since your memory is so good, could you help us recall what Cong Fangfang’s daily routine was like?"

"She left for work around seven in the morning and returned after seven in the evening. If she worked overtime, it could be nine or even past midnight. Sometimes she went on business trips—not often, maybe two or three days at a time. She had weekends off and was usually at home, rarely going out. That’s roughly it." He spoke with a slightly vacant look, as if he were truly recalling facts rather than fabricating them.

Yan Xue was surprised, as was Kang Ge, who joked, "Friend, you’re holding back, aren't you? You know her schedule so well, and you say you aren't close?"

"I’m not close to her," Wei Guangji insisted. "I spend a lot of time at home and have a good memory, so I remember. It’s not just her; I remember Li Xiaoguo’s schedule, too."

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living?" Yan Xue asked.

"I work for a publishing house, proofreading translated manuscripts," he replied. His response was wooden, but he answered everything. "I check the translator’s work against the original text to correct errors."

"Then your English must be quite good!"

"Besides English, I also work with French and Spanish," he added earnestly, showing no sign of modesty, as if her remark about English had been an insult to his full capabilities.

"You really are gifted with languages!" Yan Xue exclaimed. She was genuinely impressed; she knew that English and Spanish were vastly different, and mastering them—let alone adding French to the mix—was no small feat.

"I’m not gifted. I just have a good memory," he said, burying his face lower, seemingly embarrassed.

"So, you don't need to go to the office most of the time?" Kang Ge asked.

"Only for meetings. I can work elsewhere at other times."

"That’s a great setup! These days, flexible hours and locations are the envy of everyone. No rush hour, no worrying about the weather," Kang Ge remarked.

Wei Guangji glanced at him from the corner of his eye but said nothing. After a moment, he added, "It’s not like that for everyone at my firm. I have this arrangement because I’m more productive at home."

"Special treatment for a special talent, then!"

"Yes, that’s right," Wei Guangji nodded solemnly. "I find it harder to get distracted at home."

"When was the last time you saw Cong Fangfang?" Yan Xue asked.

Wei Guangji grew thoughtful, appearing to search his memory. "Over a week ago. She ran back to grab something, then left. I haven't seen her since."

"Were you the only one home when she came back?"

"Yes. I was proofreading a manuscript that the publisher needed urgently."

"You were the first person to move into this apartment, right?" Kang Ge leaned in, lowering his voice slightly. "As an observer, how well do you think Li Xiaoguo and Cong Fangfang knew each other? Were they close?"

"They were likely acquainted, but I don't know if they were close," Wei Guangji said, shaking his head dully.

"It’s alright, we aren't asking for a definitive judgment. Just tell us, do you think they got along?" Kang Ge pressed.

Wei Guangji shook his head again. "I don't know. I can’t say."

"On that last day when Cong Fangfang came back and left, when did Li Xiaoguo return?"

"She got home two hours later than usual. I was cooking at the time."

"And you were proofreading the whole time?"

"I went out to the convenience store at the gate to buy the brand of instant noodles I eat, but they were out. I tried two more stores, but they were also out, so I went home and ordered them online. After that, I stayed home to work and didn't go out again."

"Are you familiar with what Cong Fangfang and Li Xiaoguo do for a living?" Yan Xue asked tentatively.

Wei Guangji kept his head slightly bowed and shook it earnestly. "I don't know. I wasn't close to either of them, so I never asked."