Chapter 8: Painful Memories

Accompanied by her teacher, the little girl named Ding Beibei sat timidly across from Su Tianmu.

Su Tianmu made a conscious effort to soften his tone and manner of speaking, afraid of frightening the girl before him. She was small for her age, slender and fragile, resembling a porcelain doll that might shatter at the slightest touch.

“Little one, did your mother braid your hair like that? It's beautiful,” he began, choosing not to ask any direct questions right away, but instead engaging her in gentle conversation.

Ding Beibei glanced at him, then turned to look at her teacher. Seeing that everyone seemed kind and gentle, she gradually relaxed. She nodded obediently, though she did not answer directly.

Noticing that she was no longer so tense, Su Tianmu continued in a soft voice, “What is your father's name? Is it Ding Chaoyue?”

“Yes. My father’s name is Ding Chaoyue,” the girl replied as soon as she heard her father’s name.

“That’s right. I heard everyone likes Teacher Li very much. Do you like Teacher Li too, Beibei?” Su Tianmu asked, probing gently.

At the mention of Teacher Li, the girl fell silent again, lowering her head as if trying to avoid something. The female teacher beside her stepped forward, embracing her gently and asked in a soft voice, “Beibei, remember last time when you had an argument with a little boy? Wasn’t it Teacher Li who helped you make peace? Have you forgotten? I recall that you forgave the boy quickly, and now you two get along well, don’t you?”

When the teacher mentioned the boy, Ding Beibei visibly tensed, almost burrowing into the teacher’s arms. The teacher glanced up at Su Tianmu, and both of them sensed that this little girl's troubles were far from resolved.

“All right, it’s almost time for class. You should go back now,” Su Tianmu said, unwilling to trouble the child any further, not wishing to leave any unpleasant memories in her innocent world.

After the little girl ran off, Su Tianmu watched the group of students playing and roughhousing, lost in thought.

If Ding Chaoyue had been a victim of childhood bullying himself, could it be that seeing something similar happen to his own daughter had triggered his desire for revenge? If that were the case, then these three murders were not random acts, but a series of meticulously planned killings.

After interviewing Beibei’s classmates and other teachers, Su Tianmu gained a clearer understanding of her situation. There was indeed a boy who often bullied her—a boy who liked to bicker, pick fights, and had even gotten physical a few times. But these had all been minor disputes, nothing that had escalated to real bullying.

Still, to prevent any harm, Su Tianmu spoke seriously with the principal on the topic. The principal agreed to strengthen emotional support for the students and to make eradicating bullying a top priority in school management.

Yet even after leaving the school, Su Tianmu felt heavy-hearted.

Who, after all, was the true victim? If someone had guided Ding Chaoyue when his mind first began to twist, might these horrors never have happened? Three dead, three families torn apart—who should bear that responsibility?

“If my guess is right, the incident with Beibei was the fuse for Ding Chaoyue’s killings. His psyche was already warped, and it was only a matter of time before it exploded,” Su Tianmu confided to Xiao Wang.

“But we still haven’t found any real evidence. How can we prove Ding Chaoyue is the killer?” Xiao Wang agreed with the theory, but speculation alone would not solve the case.

“We need to go back to that little mountain village. What I still don’t understand is, who exactly is the 'pretty sister' the fool mentioned?”...

After returning from the police station, Ding Chaoyue was anxious. He had planned every detail, but the fact remained—three lives had been taken. To say he felt nothing would be a lie.

Though in his mind, they all deserved to die.

He took off his jacket and stared at his reflection in the mirror. If only he’d learned to protect himself sooner, he might have been spared those wretched memories. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in anguish...

“Ha ha… what do you want to say to yourself? Thank your parents for giving you a crippled leg? Or for raising you to be an idiot?”

A group of children ringed a little boy, laughing cruelly. Though he pleaded with them to stop, the ringleaders were relentless, mocking him and snatching the trophy from his hands to smash it on the ground.

This scene took place right after that group photo. Who could have guessed that beneath those beaming, innocent faces hid such cruelty?

It had been his happiest moment—ever since he started school, he’d loved language class and writing. But constant ridicule and humiliation had kept his talent hidden. Until that year, when he won first prize in the school’s essay contest.

But that very victory gave his tormentors a new excuse to target him...

Suddenly, the phone on the table rang.

Ding Chaoyue shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the painful memories.

“Beibei’s father, Beibei has disappeared. Can you come to the school?” came a teacher’s anxious voice on the line.

“What? What did you say? How could Beibei be missing?” Ding Chaoyue shouted, panicked, grabbing his things and rushing out the door.

That afternoon, the school had organized a field trip. The children were given plenty of free time in a small grove outdoors. After all, they were fifth graders—not quite grown, but not tiny either—so the teachers weren’t overly strict. It was only when it was time to gather for the return that they realized two students were missing: Ding Beibei and the boy who often bullied her.

Panic seized the teachers. After searching fruitlessly, they had no choice but to call the children’s parents.

When Ding Chaoyue arrived and found his daughter still missing, he was on the verge of collapse. He shouted her name, searching desperately, his behavior frightening to behold.

“Did you call the police? Hurry and call the police!” someone finally shouted, and only then did everyone remember to dial for help.