Chapter Fifteen: Selling Graves for Money

[Little Mo has been suffering from a nasty cold and cough lately, so the update schedule has been a bit irregular. However, I'll do my best to ensure updates are posted at noon every day. Thank you for your understanding.]

“It must have cost quite a bit to have this whole set of artistic portraits taken, right? And the album itself is exquisitely made.” An Changpu, pretending to be casual, took the photo album from Qin Ruonan’s hands and flipped through it carelessly. It seemed as though he had little interest in the photos themselves. Perhaps, for a man, after just seeing photographs of another man as himself, and then immediately seeing that same person transformed into a beauty, with a curvy figure and ample chest, the dissonance and discomfort would be even stronger than what a woman might feel.

Ding Mulan’s face remained impassive as she shook her head. “I don’t know. He never tells me these things. He’s always been in charge of the family’s finances. I never ask about that.”

“There are two daughters in the family, aren’t there?” An Changpu pointed at the younger girl in the family portrait of four. “Is Lu Anju the elder or the younger one?”

“She’s the elder. Our second daughter is named Lu Anmei.” At the mention of her younger daughter, Ding Mulan let out a barely audible sigh and rubbed her dry eyes with the back of her hand.

“Would the two children know more about Lu Min’s recent situation?” Qin Ruonan asked.

Ding Mulan hesitated, unsure how to answer. After considering for a moment, she said, “My second daughter probably knows as little as I do. My eldest… it’s hard to say. She’s always been closer to her father than to me.”

“Even if Lu Min underwent that kind of surgery, she wouldn’t mind?” Qin Ruonan asked, somewhat surprised.

It wasn’t that she was prejudiced against transgender people; it was just that if one’s own father suddenly became a woman overnight, it would be hard for anyone to take in stride.

“I don’t know.” Ding Mulan lowered her head sadly. Whether it was because Lu Anju was in the kitchen and she didn’t want her to overhear, or because the question touched on something painful, she seemed unwilling to say more.

Qin Ruonan glanced at An Changpu and gently shook her head, indicating she had nothing more to ask. An Changpu nodded in response, then said to Ding Mulan, “Sister Ding, could you ask Lu Anju to come in for a moment?”

Ding Mulan didn’t object. She nodded and went to the kitchen to call her daughter.

Upon hearing that the two police officers wanted to speak with her, Lu Anju made her presence known: the clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen rang out, and then she sauntered in, displeasure clear on her face. She shot Qin Ruonan a cold, sidelong glance, snorted, wiped her hands on the towel hanging by the door, and threw it onto the chair her mother had just vacated. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked down at them with a defiant air, pointedly turning her head away. Ding Mulan quietly picked up the towel and hung it back where it belonged.

“Lu Anju, have you been in touch with your father, Lu Min, lately?” An Changpu could see her sour mood but chose to ignore it.

Lu Anju didn’t answer, acting as though she hadn’t heard the question. Her gaze lingered on Qin Ruonan’s expressionless face for a long while. Seeing no response, her irritation only grew. She pointed at Qin Ruonan. “If you want my cooperation, she has to apologize first! I told you, asking my mom about my dad is a waste of time! I was in a good mood just now and told you to ask me whatever you wanted, but you didn’t. Then she snapped at me! Now I’m in a bad mood and don’t want to answer your questions. Go ask my mom!”

An Changpu looked at Qin Ruonan, saw she remained unmoved, and sighed. He said to Lu Anju, “How about this: although we’re just doing our job, my colleague’s attitude was a bit harsh earlier. I apologize on her behalf and hope you’ll feel better.”

Before Lu Anju could respond, Qin Ruonan spoke up herself. She shot An Changpu a glare, ignored Lu Anju, and said, “I have a mouth of my own; if an apology is needed, I’ll say it myself. Besides, I did nothing wrong. Some people are just being unreasonable.”

An Changpu felt a headache coming on. He knew how fiery Qin Ruonan could be, and clearly, her stubborn streak was surfacing. With Lu Anju so combative, there was little hope of learning anything about Lu Min’s situation from her.

Sure enough, hearing Qin Ruonan’s words, Lu Anju’s spirits seemed to rise. She placed her hands on her hips, eyes blazing, about to retort—when something completely unexpected happened.

Ding Mulan, who had always seemed timid in front of her daughter, suddenly lost her temper. She slapped Lu Anju’s hand away from Qin Ruonan and raised her voice several notches, shouting, “When will you ever grow up? When will you think about someone other than yourself? They’re police officers! Two police officers coming to look for your father—do you think that could ever be good news? And yet, you haven’t even asked if your father is alright! Do you know he’s safe, or do you just not care?”

Lu Anju was taken aback by her mother’s outburst. Perhaps because Ding Mulan was usually so mild, her sudden anger was all the more startling and intimidating.

An Changpu was also surprised. From the beginning, Ding Mulan hadn’t even asked why they were there, only answering their questions passively. Now, her scolding made it clear: it wasn’t that she didn’t want to ask, but that she was afraid to know.

Though An Changpu was curious about how Ding Mulan felt about her husband’s surgery, considering her age and the length of their marriage—nearly thirty years—it was unthinkable that she wouldn’t care about his safety.

Lu Anju’s anger was snuffed out by her mother’s words. After a long pause, she said, somewhat aggrieved, “What do you want me to say? I really don’t know how my dad’s been lately! He hasn’t contacted me for a while. Last time I saw him was just at the start of summer, and now it’s autumn. If you want to know what’s been going on with him, I honestly have no idea.”

“Sister Ding, does Lu Min have any distinguishing marks that would make him easy to identify? For example, a birthmark?” An Changpu thought of another detail that might help.

Ding Mulan considered for a moment. “He has a small mole, about the size of a peanut, on the right side of his lower back.”

Hearing this, An Changpu’s heart skipped a beat. Not because the male corpse they’d found had such a mole, but precisely because it didn’t. In fact, the lower half of the male body they’d found had a chunk of flesh sliced out of the right buttock—exactly where that mole would have been. This left two possibilities: either the victim was indeed Lu Min and the killer had deliberately removed the identifying feature to prevent recognition, or the wound was coincidental and not proof the body was his.

At this point, the only way to confirm whether the deceased was Lu Min was through DNA testing with a direct relative.

“Does Lu Min have any siblings?” Qin Ruonan asked, having reached the same conclusion.

“Yes, an older brother. But for certain reasons, they haven’t been in contact with our family for years.” Ding Mulan replied uneasily, clearly torn about whether she wanted to know the truth.

“Does Lu Min’s brother live nearby? If so, could you bring him over as well as your younger daughter? We recently received a report: a headless male body was recovered from the river, suspected to be Lu Min, but we can’t confirm it yet. We’ll need DNA testing to verify the identity.” With the situation as it was, An Changpu could only explain everything frankly to the family.

At these words, Ding Mulan’s legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. Lu Anju’s mouth fell open, speechless.

It was Lu Anju who first regained her wits. Realizing the gravity of the situation, she no longer dared to act out. “Mom, you call my sister, I’ll go get my uncle!” she said, and ran outside.

Qin Ruonan helped Ding Mulan to her feet and into a chair. The woman was shaking as if with a fever, but she didn’t cry. She remained relatively composed, only her hands trembled so violently she couldn’t dial the phone. In the end, Qin Ruonan had to key in the number for her and hand her the phone.

With so much at stake, the conversation with the younger daughter was brief and to the point. Once the call ended, the three waited in silence for Lu Anju to return with their uncle. Ding Mulan slumped in her chair, her eyes filled with panic.

An Changpu and Qin Ruonan had no idea how to comfort her. In moments like these, most people go through the same emotional cycle: at first, terror, then the vain hope that it’s all a misunderstanding, and finally, the creeping dread—what if their loved one really is dead?

“Sister Ding, why did Lu Min and his brother fall out?” Since all the clues pointed to the deceased being Lu Min, it was worth paying attention to anyone with whom he’d had serious conflicts. After a long silence, and considering Ding Mulan’s fragile state, Qin Ruonan asked cautiously, “Was it because of his transition?”

“More or less.” Ding Mulan replied weakly, “It didn’t matter to his brother whether Lu Min wanted to be a man or a woman. They broke off because, to pay for the surgery, Lu Min sold their parents’ burial plot.”