The fishing boat cut through the black water like a blade through silk. Haisheng sat in the stern, the photograph of Gui Xia still clutched in his hand, the message about the three Gardeners burned into his memory. Huang Deming huddled beside him, wrapped in a tarpaulin, shivering despite the warm night air. The old fisherman at the helm said nothing, his eyes fixed on the distant glow of Ningbo's harbor.
They docked at 4:23 AM. Haisheng paid the fisherman with cash from Gui Yulan's satchel, then dragged Huang onto the pier. The city was still asleep, its streets empty save for the occasional delivery truck. He found a telephone booth and dialed the number Gui Yulan had given him—a secure line to Captain Fu's private office.
She answered on the second ring. "Haisheng? Where are you?"
"Ningbo. I have Huang. But we have a problem. The Gardener is not one man. He's three."
A long pause. "I was afraid of that. I've been reviewing Gui Yulan's files. She left a sealed envelope for me before she disappeared. It named three individuals—all high-ranking officials in the provincial economic planning committee. They've been rotating leadership of the White Egret Society since 1980, each serving a two-year term. The current one is Deputy Secretary Zhao Wei. The other two are still in office, but they're careful—they never leave traces."
"Can we charge all of them?"
"Not yet. Huang's testimony can name Zhao. But the other two have plausible deniability—they were never directly involved in the hunts. They only approved budgets and transfer orders. We need something that ties them directly to the murders."
Haisheng thought of Gui Xia, crumpled on the dock, still clutching her folder. "Gui Xia had evidence. She was going to destroy it before they found her. But I don't know if she succeeded."
"She didn't," Captain Fu said, her voice heavy. "I received a call from the Shanghai police an hour ago. They found her body in a warehouse near the wharf. The folder was gone. They're ruling it a 'botched robbery'—another cover-up."
Haisheng's hand tightened on the phone. Another death. Another silence.
"Then we'll find other evidence," he said. "Huang knows the structure of the club. He can describe the chain of command. That's enough to start a formal investigation."
"It's enough to start one. But the Provincial Party Committee has already issued a statement—they're calling the whole affair a 'misunderstanding' and promising a 'thorough review.' That's code for burial. They're going to bury the trial, Haisheng. We have maybe forty-eight hours before they shut it down completely."
"Then we act fast. I'll bring Huang to Hangzhou. We'll testify tomorrow. And I'll find a way to expose the other two Gardeners."
"How?"
Haisheng looked at Huang, who was staring blankly at the ground. "I don't know yet. But I'll find a way."
He hung up and turned to Huang. "We're going to Hangzhou. You're going to testify. And you're going to tell the court everything—every name, every date, every order you ever signed or witnessed."
Huang nodded, his face pale. "And what happens to me after?"
"You'll be in protective custody. A safe house, not a cell. You'll have a lawyer and a trial. And if you cooperate, you might get a reduced sentence."
"Reduced sentence. I'm a murderer, Haisheng. I signed the orders that killed twenty-three people. I don't deserve a reduced sentence."
"Maybe not. But you deserve a trial. And your daughter deserves to know you told the truth."
Huang's eyes glistened. "My daughter. She doesn't know what I did. She thinks I was just a county official who made some mistakes. How do I tell her the truth?"
"Show her. Show her by standing up in court and saying it out loud. That's the only way she'll ever believe you."
They took the first train to Hangzhou, arriving at 8:15 AM. Captain Fu met them at the station, flanked by two plainclothes officers. She looked exhausted but alert, her briefcase stuffed with files.
"The courthouse is already under heavy security," she said as they walked. "Judge Fang has been reassigned to a different circuit. Her replacement is Judge Chen Guangli—a conservative appointment from the provincial party committee. He's known for dismissing cases on 'technicalities.'"
Haisheng felt his stomach tighten. "Then we need to make this case un-dismissible."
They arrived at the courthouse at 9:00 AM. The gallery was even more crowded than before—students, journalists, and a row of elderly villagers from Dongchi who had made the trip again. Haisheng recognized Zhao Laobo among them, leaning on his cane, his face a mask of grim determination.
Judge Chen Guangli entered at 9:15. He was a pudgy man in his early sixties, with a flat, expressionless face and small eyes that darted nervously over the crowd. He adjusted his robes, cleared his throat, and began.
"The court is now in session for the preliminary hearing of Chen Haisheng versus the Dongchi County Government and affiliated parties. The prosecution has submitted additional evidence and witness testimony. The defense has requested a continuance. The court denies the request. Let us proceed."
The prosecutor rose and presented Huang Deming as the first witness. Huang walked to the stand with the shuffling gait of a man who had already been condemned. He raised his hand and swore to tell the truth.
"State your name and former position."
"Huang Deming. Former County Party Secretary of Dongchi County."
"Do you recognize the documents submitted by the prosecution—specifically, the memos from the county filing room?"
"I do. They are authentic. They bear my signature and the signatures of other county officials."
"Were you a member of the White Egret Society?"
"I was."
"Did the Society engage in hunting activities—specifically, the pursuit and killing of civilians in the Luyuan Wetlands?"
Huang's voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. "Yes. The Society organized hunts for sport. The targets were chosen from among villagers who had refused to relocate. I participated in the planning of thirteen hunts. I did not participate directly in the killings, but I approved the orders and the cover-ups."
A gasp rippled through the gallery. Judge Chen's face remained impassive, but his hand tightened on his gavel.
The prosecutor continued: "Did you receive orders from anyone outside the county government?"
"I did. The hunts were funded and authorized by the Provincial Economic Planning Committee. Specifically, by Deputy Secretary Zhao Wei, who used the alias 'The Gardener.' He was the Society's patron and protector."
"Are you prepared to name other individuals who participated in the cover-up?"
"I am. County Judge Zhou Wenbin, Land Bureau Director Wang, and three other officials from the provincial planning committee. Their names are listed in the memos."
The prosecutor turned to Judge Chen. "Your Honor, the witness has provided a direct link between the White Egret Society and the provincial government. We request that the court issue subpoenas for Deputy Secretary Zhao Wei and the other named officials."
Judge Chen's eyes flickered. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the desk. "The court will consider the request. However, we must first verify the witness's credibility. Huang Deming is a confessed participant in the alleged crimes. His testimony may be self-serving—an attempt to shift blame to his superiors."
The defense lawyer rose, seizing the opening. "Your Honor is correct. Huang Deming is a proven liar and a corrupt official. He has already been implicated in multiple cover-ups. His testimony is worthless."
Haisheng stood up, unable to stay silent. "Your Honor, Huang Deming has confessed to his own role. He has nothing to gain from lying. The evidence—the memos, the photographs, the witness statements—supports his testimony. If the court dismisses him, it dismisses the only living witness who can connect the murders to the provincial level."
Judge Chen glared at him. "Complainant Chen, you are not authorized to speak during the witness examination. Sit down."
Haisheng sat, but his heart was racing. The judge was protecting the Gardener. He was going to bury Huang's testimony.
Then something unexpected happened. Lin Su stood up from the gallery bench, her arm still in a sling, her voice clear and sharp.
"Your Honor, I have additional evidence. I was not just a victim of the first hunt—I was also a witness to the planning meetings of the Provincial Economic Planning Committee in 1983. I was a servant at the home of Deputy Secretary Zhao Wei. I saw the documents. I heard the conversations. Zhao Wei was not the only Gardener. There were two others: Deputy Director Liu Hong and Deputy Director Wang Jie. All three signed the orders."
The gallery erupted. Judge Chen banged his gavel, demanding order. Lin Su walked to the witness box, her face unflinching.
"Lin Su," he said, "you have already given testimony in this court. You are not permitted to add new testimony without prior notice."
"I am not adding testimony. I am correcting a factual error. The Gardener is three men, not one. And I can name all three. I have seen their signatures. I have heard their voices. I have cleaned their offices and filed their paperwork. I know the truth."
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a folded document—a typed agreement, with three signatures at the bottom. "This is the original compact of the White Egret Society, signed in 1980. It establishes the rotating leadership. I stole it from Zhao Wei's safe before I left his household. He never knew it was missing."
The courtroom fell silent. Judge Chen stared at the document, his face pale. The prosecutor took it, examined it, and nodded.
"Your Honor, the compact appears authentic. It bears the seals and signatures of all three individuals. This is direct evidence of conspiracy at the highest level."
Haisheng watched in amazement. Lin Su had kept this secret through everything—through the mill fire, through the trial, through all the danger. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to use it.
The defense lawyer stammered, attempting to object, but Judge Chen overruled him. The compact was entered into evidence.
The hearing continued for another two hours, but the tide had turned. Huang's testimony, combined with Lin Su's compact, created an unbreakable chain. The prosecutor requested immediate subpoenas for Zhao Wei, Liu Hong, and Wang Jie. Judge Chen reluctantly agreed, setting the full trial for three weeks later.
As the crowd filed out, Haisheng approached Lin Su. "Why didn't you tell me about the compact before?"
"Because I needed to see if you would survive this long. If you'd given up, the compact would have died with me. But you didn't give up. So I gave it to you."
He embraced her—a brief, fierce hug. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. The three Gardeners are powerful men. They won't go quietly. They'll try to destroy the evidence, silence the witnesses, or flee the country. We have three weeks to make the case unassailable."
They walked out of the courthouse into the afternoon sun. Haisheng felt a weight lift from his shoulders—but only for a moment. Three weeks was a deadline, not a victory.
He looked at the city around him—the crowded streets, the bicycles, the buses, the ordinary lives being lived. Somewhere in this city, three men were planning their escape. And somewhere, in a warehouse in Shanghai, a folder of evidence was still missing.
He had to find it. He had to find Gui Xia's folder. It was the last piece of the puzzle.
As he stood there, a young man approached him—a messenger, holding an envelope. "Comrade Chen? I was told to deliver this to you personally."
Haisheng opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper, typed, with no signature:
"The folder is in the safe of the Hangzhou Bank, box 479. The key is with your mother. She doesn't know what it opens, but she's been holding it for twenty years. Use it well. —A Friend."
His mother. She had died in 1982. How could she have a key?
He looked at the messenger, but the young man was already gone, lost in the crowd.
Haisheng stood frozen, the paper trembling in his hand. His mother was dead. But the key—if it existed—had been left somewhere. In her belongings? In the old house?
He had to go back to Dongchi. Back to the village. Back to the home that had been demolished.
And he had to find the key before the three Gardeners found him.
He pocketed the note and walked toward the train station, his mind racing with questions that had no answers.
Who was "A Friend"? And how did they know about his mother?
The hunt was not over. It had simply moved to a new hunting ground.
And this time, the prey was a dead woman's secret.
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