The Creator's Grace - Chapter 5

Midnight, Terminal 3 of B City International Airport.

The flight, delayed by an hour and a half, finally came to a stop. The jet bridge connected with the aircraft door.

The cabin lights flickered, signaling that it was time to disembark.

Chi Yu pushed her eye mask up to her forehead, stretched her sore arms, and felt her throat tight and painful.

She sent a WeChat message to Ran Jin: “Ran Jie, the plane has landed. I don’t have checked luggage, so I’ll be out soon.”

Before she could put her phone back in her pocket, Ran Jin replied: “I’m already waiting for you in Zone D of the East Parking Lot. Once you exit into the arrivals hall, follow the signs, cross the bridge, and take the elevator down to B2. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Chi Yu stood up to grab her backpack and tucked the tablet she’d kept by her side into it.

The over-ten-hour flight had left her exhausted. Even with a soft bed available, she was a light sleeper, and her sister’s recent passing had kept her awake all night.

Lying in that narrow bed, she hadn’t even shifted positions, let alone slept, leaving her whole body stiff and aching.

Her red, swollen eyes looked even more haggard than during her all-nighters writing papers. Chi Yu put on a pair of oversized sunglasses, covering half her face, opened the cabin door, and stepped off the plane.

At midnight, the arrivals hall was sparsely populated, but the lights were glaringly bright—so bright that even with sunglasses on, her eyes felt uncomfortable.

Walking on the sound-absorbing carpet, her high heels tapped out a faint, rhythmic thud, as if echoing the beat of her heart.

Confusion, frustration, and grief swirled together. Facing an uncertain journey ahead, she felt a sense of unease and restlessness, as if trapped in a weary nightmare.

When Chi Yu’s WeChat message came through, Ran Jin woke up instantly.

The interrupted dream left her feeling even more exhausted than before she’d fallen asleep.

Ran Jin picked up her phone and saw Chi Yu’s message saying her flight had landed.

After replying to let Chi Yu know where she was, Ran Jin still felt uneasy.

Worried that Chi Yu, who hadn’t been back in a while, might get lost, Ran Jin got out of the car, walked up from the parking lot, and waited by the bridge.

As Chi Yu hurried toward the parking lot elevator, she received a call from a friend.

Before boarding the plane, she had asked this friend, who worked in private investigations domestically, to look into her sister’s death.

After hearing the investigation results, Chi Yu stopped in her tracks, her face turning paler than ever before.

She stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the three-story terminal, watching planes land one after another in the dead of night. Their blinking red lights looked like the eyes of malevolent spirits floating in the darkness.

And what she heard over the phone was more terrifying than any spirit.

The suspicious “suicide” was like a meticulously prepared dining table—the food and utensils arranged on it seemed ordinary, yet nothing was in its rightful place.

And the one who had orchestrated it all was someone she had once trusted deeply—her “family,” the person she had called “sister-in-law” for so many years.

“Alright, I understand.”

By the time Chi Yu hung up the phone, her voice was already hoarse.

She stood still for several minutes, steadying herself, before continuing on to meet Ran Jin.

From a distance, Ran Jin spotted Chi Yu at a single glance.

At twenty-two years old, Chi Yu stood tall at 1.75 meters. Though she had dressed modestly for the funeral, she remained strikingly noticeable wherever she went.

Her long, curly hair trembled with each determined stride. Wearing sunglasses, a fitted black trench coat, and wide-leg wool trousers, she moved swiftly even in high heels.

“Ran Jin.”

Seeing Ran Jin, Chi Yu quickened her pace, closing the distance before removing her sunglasses.

Ran Jin took in her gaunt face and swollen, glistening eyes. It was clear she had lost even more weight since returning home for the New Year, and the weariness of enduring a life-altering tragedy was etched plainly across her features.

Ran Jin’s heart ached as if pierced. She opened her arms and embraced her, letting her cry in her embrace.

The bag fell to the ground. Chi Yu wrapped her arms around Ran Jin’s waist, pressing her face against her neck as tears streamed from her eyes.

Ran Jin, half a head shorter, tilted her chin against Chi Yu’s shoulder with some effort, gently stroking her back, soothing her with tenderness and patience.

She offered this grieving junior, who had lost her sister, a place to lean on and weep.

Chi Yu’s slender fingers slowly moved from Ran Jin’s waist to the back of her head, tangling in her hair.

Holding her firmly, she kept her securely within her embrace.

The words of her friend still echoed in Chi Yu’s ears:

“Your sister left a will in the Chi Group’s internal system using her own account. The contents were so brief it’s hard not to think she was in a hurry when she wrote it.

“The will had only two points: first, the Chi Group is to be handed over to Ran Jin; second, her body is to be cremated immediately. So your sister’s body was cremated right after the police ‘confirmed’ it was suicide. What’s in the mourning hall now is her ashes.

“The earliest autopsy report has disappeared. I managed to find a clue and sent you the restored original version. It’s not very clear, but you can still see your sister was stabbed twelve times in the chest. I’m fucking baffled—twelve stab wounds, and they call it suicide.

“Your sister-in-law—oh, I mean your former sister-in-law—has solid connections at the police station. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be different versions of the autopsy report. I followed this lead and found she’s closely connected to a police officer surnamed Lu. In the month before your sister’s death, they met twenty-three times.

“I have more information here. Come over, and I’ll show you in person. By the time we meet, I should also have the surveillance footage.”

Chi Yu’s bloodshot, tear-filled eyes stared straight ahead at the empty midnight airport terminal.

Her gaze, however, seemed out of place in the atmosphere of this grief-stricken embrace.

Though sorrow lingered, it was overshadowed by a shift from contemplation to a gradually dawning composure, and an increasingly grim, fierce resolve.

But Ran Jin, who was wholeheartedly offering her embrace, noticed none of this.

All she could hear was Chi Yu’s voice.

“Ran Jin, my sister is gone. You must take care of yourself,” Chi Yu said without blinking, enunciating each word deliberately. “I’ll be by your side, taking good care of you.”

…

They got into Ran Jin’s car and headed toward the Chi family home.

The midnight highway was nearly empty, and Ran Jin drove at a brisk pace.

“Ran Jin, how did my sister die?”

Chi Yu leaned back in the passenger seat, her tone calm as she asked.

This calmness didn’t sound like a question. It was as if the asker already knew the answer and was waiting to witness the performance of someone feigning ignorance.

“Suicide.”

After several seconds of silence, Ran Jin uttered these two words in a flat tone, as if the deceased were not her “intimate girlfriend” of six years but an insignificant stranger.

“My sister would not have committed suicide.” Chi Yu turned her head to look at Ran Jin’s profile. “What kind of person she was, you and I know best. Yesterday—or rather, the day before yesterday now—she video-called me on time, and there was nothing unusual in the call. How could she just suddenly take her own life? Sister Ran, do you think there might be another possibility?”

“What possibility?”

Chi Yu stared at Ran Jin’s face, trying to memorize every subtle expression. “Could my sister have been murdered?”

Ran Jin did not answer that question.

The half of her face illuminated by the cold light from the central control panel revealed no flaws.

“The police also say my sister committed suicide?” Chi Yu leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Yes.”

“Who discovered her first?”

As the deceased’s only blood relative, it was entirely reasonable for Chi Yu to press Ran Jin relentlessly with questions.

Even though Ran Jin was neither a police officer nor, for the time being, a suspect.

“Your sister’s personal assistant and secretary, Hong Yiling.”

Chi Li went to play golf every Saturday and would video-call Chi Yu on her way to the course. This week was no different.

The day before yesterday, she went to the golf course owned by the Chi Group. After playing for two hours, she went to the designated lounge to shower, and Hong Yiling came to deliver her clothes.

Hong Yiling had access to Chi Li’s lounge. Usually, after placing Chi Li’s personal clothes in the closet, she could leave without needing to see her boss in person.

But that day, in addition to delivering the clothes, Hong Yiling also brought a document that required Chi Li’s personal confirmation, so she did not leave immediately and instead waited in the lounge.

After waiting for over an hour without seeing her boss emerge, Hong Yiling found it strange.

President Chi was always punctual and knew the document Hong Yiling brought was urgent. There was no reason for her to take so long without appearing.

Summoning her courage, Hong Yiling went to knock on the bathroom door.

After knocking for a long time without any response, Hong Yiling grew anxious, wondering if something had happened to her boss.

Generally, those navigating the capital markets were wary of involving the police. Once the police showed up, it usually meant trouble, so Chi Li avoided dealing with them whenever possible.

As an excellent secretary, considering problems from her boss’s perspective was a fundamental skill.

Similarly, her keen sense for detecting anomalies was the main reason she had worked by the side of the Chi Group’s chairman for so many years.

Hong Yiling knocked forcefully on the door a few more times but still received no response. Realizing she could not delay any further, she immediately went to find the golf course manager, who used his access to open the bathroom door.

Hong Yiling told the police that the moment the door opened, the sound of running water and the steam immediately overwhelmed her hearing and vision.

The chaotic scene was as if someone had deliberately blocked her ears and covered her eyes, preventing her from understanding what had happened right away.

But her nose was still functioning normally.

She smelled a strong scent of blood.

Hong Yiling said she was so shaken at the time that, almost instinctively, she immediately turned around, urging the manager and the staff who had followed to step back. Without waiting for them to react, she closed the door shut.

Hong Yiling turned a deaf ear to the questioning voices outside the door. After taking a deep breath, she walked toward the area where the scent of blood was strongest.

“When we found her, your sister was lying in a bathtub filled with water, her wrists slit. She was already…” Ran Jin paused here, not continuing out of consideration for Chi Yu’s emotions.

Chi Yu pressed on, “Aside from the golf course manager, how many people had access to my sister’s lounge?”

“Three,” Ran Jin answered without hesitation. “Your sister, her secretary Hong Yiling, and… me.”