Chapter 8, Testament

Deng Kun arrived quite promptly. He said he rushed over as soon as he received my call. I didn't say much over the phone; it was only when he arrived that I detailed the situation to him, and he was so surprised that he couldn't close his mouth. I asked Wang Qinghan if she had informed her family about this matter, and she shook her head, saying that when she discovered the suicide note, she was very frightened. Her first thought was of me, so she called me immediately and did not mention it to anyone else. I handed the suicide note to Deng Kun and asked Wang Qinghan to also give him some of her writings, requesting his assistance in arranging a handwriting identification. I asked Wang Qinghan if she had informed her family about this matter, and she shook her head, saying that when she discovered the suicide note, she was very frightened. Her first thought was of me, so she called me immediately and did not mention it to anyone else. I handed the suicide note to Deng Kun and asked Wang Qinghan to also give him some of her writings, requesting his assistance in arranging a handwriting identification. Deng Kun readily agreed; he had been investigating Huang Yu's case. Although there had not been much progress, he strongly agreed with my view that Wang Qinghan's situation must be closely related to Huang Yu's case.

It was already past 2:00 PM when I returned to the center. I had an appointment at 3:30 PM, so I asked Zhang Li to find Liang Ping on her own and then returned to my office to prepare. I was reviewing the information of the rescuer I was about to meet; this was her second consultation, and I hoped to delve into some substantive issues. At that moment, the phone rang, and a familiar voice came through, somewhat urgent and tinged with fear: "Teacher Zhu, this is Wang Qinghan." I replied, "Hello, I remember our appointment is for tomorrow morning, right?" She said, "Yes, I know, but I encountered something terrifying." I asked, "Is someone still following you?" She replied, "No, I saw my suicide note." I didn't understand and asked again, "What?" With a choked voice, she said, "I saw the suicide note I wrote, but I don't want to die." I comforted her, saying, "Don't cry, take your time, and tell me what happened."

The efficiency of the identification department is quite high, and regarding the documents, the results came out in just over an hour. The suicide note indeed originated from Wang Qinghan. In fact, this result did not surprise me; I had already believed from the content of the note that it was written by her. What exactly is going on? In Deng Kun's office, we were smoking one cigarette after another, yet we had no clue in our minds.

I have always been unwilling to believe that Wang Qinghan has schizophrenia, and in all my interactions with her, there have been no signs. So under what circumstances would she write a suicide note and then have no memory of it afterward? Suddenly, I thought of hypnosis; yes, it would be more reasonable to explain this situation through hypnosis. I thought of Guan Xin, one of the top hypnotists in the province. I quickly called her, and after a few rings, she answered, "Hello, who is this?" I said, "It's me, Zhu Yi. Do you have time right now? I want to consult you about something." She responded with a burst of laughter: "Haha, it's you! If you want to consult me, at least treat me to a cup of coffee, right? You wouldn't want to save money by discussing it over the phone, would you?" I awkwardly replied, "Let's meet later; you choose the place." Without hesitation, she said, "Yongle Road, Master Coffee. I can be there in twenty minutes." After hanging up, I briefed my wife and then went out.

We chatted casually again, and I feel that her mental state, aside from being a bit fatigued, is generally normal. I suggested that she accompany me to the center in the afternoon to have Liang Ping prescribe her some sleep aid medication, and she agreed.

There were not many people in "Hao Xiang Lai". The waiter ordered steak rice and drinks for us. I looked at Zhang Li sitting across from me; her well-fitted professional suit made her figure appear even more slender and alluring, but there was a faint weariness on her face, with slight dark circles adding a touch of haggardness. I asked her if she had not been resting well lately. She smiled and said, "Yes, I've been having a lot of dreams recently, but I can't remember anything when I wake up, yet I feel particularly tired." I said, "Is it because of the pressure at work? Why not take a couple of days off to rest properly?" She shook her head and said, "Not really, there haven't been many matters at the company lately." She didn't eat much, only taking a few bites of her steak, saying she had no appetite. I, on the other hand, was devouring my food. She pushed her portion in front of me, and I didn't refuse. While eating, I asked her, "Can't you remember any of your dreams at all?" She thought carefully and replied, "Yes, I have always tried hard to recall what happened in my dreams, but I can never remember, not even fragments."

She paused for a moment, seemingly calming her emotions, and slowly said: "This morning when I woke up, I felt particularly exhausted, and I was very drained. I think it might be because of the nightmare I had last night." I heard her heavy breathing. "At that time, I didn't think too much about it because I was in a hurry to leave, so I rushed through my morning routine and went to the office. In the afternoon, I had a meeting, and I forgot the meeting materials at home, so I went back to get them. I found several sheets of paper on the bedside table in the bedroom. I picked them up to look, and they were suicide notes that I had written myself, but I am certain that I never wrote them. Yet, they were indeed written by me; not only was it my handwriting, but even the tone and the events and emotions described were my own. Teacher, I am so scared." I didn't have time to think much; this was too bizarre and too strange. I told her: "Don't be afraid, I will come over right away." I hurriedly asked Li Qing to postpone the afternoon appointments and took a taxi to Wang Qinghan's house. In the car, I called Deng Kun and asked him to come over as well. I wanted him to find someone in the bureau to do a handwriting analysis. If it really was as Wang Qinghan said, that it was her own handwriting, then this matter would be very serious. I don't really believe that Wang Qinghan has mental issues, but if it truly was written by her and she can't remember it while awake, then she could very well be suffering from schizophrenia. In that case, my previous judgment would have significant problems, and this would have exceeded the scope of psychological counseling.

In the middle of the night, I was in a daze when the phone rang. I looked and saw it was Deng Kun. Annoyed, I said, "What is it? It's already past two o'clock, and you're calling? Can't a person get some sleep?" His voice was a bit choked, and my sleepiness vanished: "What happened?" He spoke with a sob: "Zhang Li jumped off a building fifteen minutes ago and died on the spot." I sat up abruptly. My wife, seeing my reaction, hurriedly asked what was wrong. I told her that Zhang Li had jumped to her death, and she cried.

I comforted Wang Qinghan, advising her not to overthink things before the conclusion was reached and to continue living her usual life. She reluctantly agreed. I understood how fearful she was at that moment, but everything was still uncertain, and I didn't know what to do either; I needed to clarify my thoughts as soon as possible. I asked her to bring the materials needed for the meeting, and Deng Kun and I escorted her back to the company. She mentioned that the meeting she was about to attend was very important

After having dinner, I spent some time talking with my wife and played with the children, then I locked myself in the study

After she got out of the car, I accompanied Deng Kun to the Public Security Bureau, hoping to know the results of the appraisal as soon as possible. Along the way, we speculated about the matter, but no matter what assumptions we made, we could not find any valid basis. During the journey, I also mentioned Zhang Li's situation to Deng Kun, suggesting that he should often visit her, as even though they were divorced, their feelings should still remain. Deng Kun just smiled foolishly and said nothing. We had no idea that the last time we saw Zhang Li was actually at noon.

Wang Qinghan opened the door for me, and I saw that her complexion was very poor, as pale as a sheet of white paper. I could clearly see that she was trembling slightly, her lips were purple. We sat down in the living room; she seemed very uneasy, and her gaze towards me was filled with sadness and fear. I gently held her hand, which was very cold. "Don't be afraid," I said, "it might just be someone's prank." She shook her head: "I really wrote it myself." I noticed several sheets of paper on the coffee table, picked them up, and realized this was the letter Wang Qinghan referred to as her suicide note. In addition to mentioning the feelings of fear and anxiety she had shared with me during her psychological counseling, it also recorded the unhappy events of the past few years and her emotions and feelings during her darkest times. I read through it from beginning to end; it truly was a suicide note, the content was very bleak, evoking a sense of despair and a lack of interest in life, and the psychological feelings expressed were very strong and real. In fact, from the moment I started reading this note, I had already concluded that it was written by Wang Qinghan herself, as it aligned perfectly with her current emotions and state of mind. I had a thought that perhaps she was orchestrating this farce herself. However, as I carefully observed her, even the slightest change in her expression made me dismiss that thought; she did not seem to be acting. She was genuinely feeling fear, a fear that came from deep within.

After leaving Deng Kun, I went straight home, as there were too many things on my mind that needed careful consideration

In fact, the environment of Master Coffee is quite pleasant; although it is not large, it is very compact and quiet. It is said that the coffee is also very authentic

After work at noon, I went to the newspaper office to find Zhang Li to have lunch together