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 steady halt. The jet bridge connected to the cabin door with a thud.

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

Chi Yu pushed her sleep mask up to her forehead and moved her aching arms; her throat felt tight and painful.

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

Before she could even 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 get to the Arrival Hall, follow the signs across the bridge and take the elevator down to the B2 parking lot. I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

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

The ten-plus hours of flying had left her exhausted. Although there was a soft bed in first class, she was extremely particular about where she slept, and the news of her sister’s death had kept her awake all night. Lying on that narrow bed, she hadn’t even shifted her posture, leaving her whole body sore and bloated.

Her eyes were red and swollen—even more haggard than when she used to pull all-nighters writing papers. Chi Yu put on a pair of oversized sunglasses that covered half her face, opened the cabin door, and disembarked.

At midnight, there weren’t many people in the Arrival Hall, but the lights were exceptionally bright—so bright that they made her eyes uncomfortable even with sunglasses on. Walking across the sound-muffling carpet, her high heels made rhythmic, muffled thuds that seemed to beat against her heart.

Confusion, frustration, and grief swirled together. Facing this unknown journey, she felt a sense of uncertainty and irritability, as if wrapped in a weary nightmare.

When Chi Yu’s message came through, Ran Jin snapped awake instantly.

The interrupted dream left her feeling even more fatigued than when she was awake. Ran Jin checked her phone and saw Chi Yu’s message saying her flight had landed. After replying and telling Chi Yu her location, she still felt uneasy. Fearing that Chi Yu, who hadn’t been back in a while, might lose her way, Ran Jin got out of the car, came up from the parking lot, and waited for her at the end of the bridge.

Chi Yu was walking quickly toward the parking lot elevators when she received a call from a close friend. Before boarding the plane, she had asked this friend, who handled private affairs domestically, to help investigate the cause of her sister’s death.

Listening to the results of the investigation, Chi Yu stopped in her tracks. Her face turned an unprecedented shade of pale.

She stood by the three-story-high floor-to-ceiling glass of the terminal, watching planes land in the dead of night. The black silhouettes with flashing red lights looked like the eyes of malevolent spirits floating in the dark.

What she was hearing over the phone was more terrifying than any spirit.

A “suicide” full of loopholes was like a meticulously prepared dining table where the food and utensils looked normal but were not in their proper places. And the one who had arranged all of this was a “family member” she had once trusted implicitly—the “Sister-in-law” she had called for so many years.

“Okay, I understand.”

By the time Chi Yu hung up, her voice was hoarse. She stood in place for several minutes, and only after steadying her emotions did she start walking again to meet Ran Jin.

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

At twenty-two, the 175cm tall Chi Yu was dressed low-key for the funeral, yet she remained someone who drew attention wherever she went. Her long curls trembled as she strode forward. Wearing sunglasses, a sharp black belted trench coat, and black wool wide-leg trousers, she moved with formidable speed despite her high heels.

“Sister Ran.”

Seeing Ran Jin, Chi Yu sped up for the last two steps and took off her sunglasses.

Ran Jin saw her thin face and swollen, glassy eyes. It was obvious she had lost a lot of weight since she last came home for the New Year. The ravages of a major life tragedy were clearly written on her face.

Ran Jin’s heart felt as if it had been pierced. She opened her arms and held her, letting her cry in her embrace.

Her bag dropped to the ground. Chi Yu wrapped her arms around Ran Jin’s waist and pressed her face against Ran Jin’s neck, letting tears slide from her eyes. Ran Jin, who was half a head shorter than Chi Yu, rested her chin on Chi Yu’s shoulder. She raised her head with some difficulty, stroking Chi Yu’s back, comforting her with gentle, immense patience.

She provided this younger relative, who had lost her sister, a place to lean and a place to weep.

Chi Yu’s long fingers slowly moved from Ran Jin’s waist to the back of her head, sinking deep into her hair. She held her, locking her firmly in her embrace.

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

“Your sister left a will within the Chi Group’s internal system using her own account. The content is so brief it makes one think it was written in a great hurry.

The will contains only two points: first, the Chi Group is to be handed over to Ran Jin; second, the body is to be cremated immediately. So, after the police ‘confirmed’ it was suicide, your sister’s body was cremated. What’s sitting in the funeral hall now is an urn.

The original autopsy report is gone. I managed to find a clue with great effort—what I sent you is a restored version of the initial report. It’s not very clear, but you can see your sister was stabbed twelve times in the chest. I’m honestly impressed—suicide via twelve stab wounds.

That sister-in-law of yours—oh wait, ex-sister-in-law—has deep connections at the police station; otherwise, there wouldn’t be different versions of an autopsy report. I followed that lead; she is close with a police officer named Lu. In the month before your sister died, there are records of them meeting twenty-three times.

I have more data here. When you arrive, I’ll show you in person. By the time we meet, I should have the surveillance footage as well.”

Chi Yu’s bloodshot, teary eyes stared straight ahead at the empty midnight terminal.

What clashed with the atmosphere of this mourning embrace was Chi Yu’s gaze. There was still grief in it, but more than that, the pensive emotion had transformed into a clear, cold composure and an increasingly dark, ruthless determination.

But Ran Jin, who was giving her a wholehearted embrace, noticed none of this. She could only hear Chi Yu’s voice.

“Sister Ran, Sister is gone. You must take care of your health.” Chi Yu didn’t blink, enunciating every word: “I will stay by your side and take… very… good… care… of you.”

They got into Ran Jin’s car and headed toward the Chi residence. On the midnight highway, there were few cars, and Ran Jin drove quite fast.

“Sister Ran, how did my sister die?” Chi Yu leaned back against the car seat and spoke calmly.

This calmness didn’t sound like a query; it was as if the questioner already knew the answer and was waiting to appreciate a performance of something they both understood.

“Suicide.”

When Ran Jin spoke those two words after a few seconds of silence, her tone was flat, as if the deceased weren’t the “intimate girlfriend” she had been with for six years, but an inconsequential stranger.

“My sister wouldn’t commit suicide.” Chi Yu turned her head to look at Ran Jin’s profile. “You and I know better than anyone what kind of person she was. Yesterday—well, the day before now—she video-called me on time. There was nothing unusual in the video. How could she just commit suicide out of nowhere? Sister Ran, do you think there’s any other possibility?”

“What kind of possibility?”

Chi Yu stared at Ran Jin’s face, attempting to memorize every subtle expression. “Is it possible that Sister was murdered?”

Ran Jin did not answer the question. Her face, illuminated by the cold light of the center console, revealed no flaws.

“The police also said it was suicide?” Chi Yu leaned back against the seat again, crossing her arms.

“Mhm.”

“Who found her first?”

As the deceased’s only blood relative, it was perfectly reasonable for Chi Yu to press Ran Jin with these questions. Even though Ran Jin wasn’t a police officer, and—for the moment—wasn’t 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 had been no different. The day before yesterday, she went to the golf course owned by a Chi Group subsidiary. After playing for two hours, she went to a private lounge to shower, and Hong Yiling came to deliver her clothes.

Hong Yiling had permission to enter Chi Li’s lounge. Usually, she would leave after placing Chi Li’s clothes in the wardrobe without needing to see the boss in person. However, that day, besides the clothes, Hong Yiling brought a document that required Chi Li’s personal confirmation, so she didn’t leave immediately and 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 remain hidden for so long.

Hong Yiling mustered the courage to knock on the bathroom door. After knocking for a long time without a response, Hong Yiling began to panic, wondering if something had happened to the boss.

Generally speaking, those fighting in the capital markets are very wary of getting involved with the police; if the police show up, it’s usually bad news. Thus, Chi Li avoided dealing with them whenever possible. As an excellent secretary, thinking from the boss’s perspective was a basic requirement for Hong Yiling. Similarly, having a sharp intuition for abnormal situations was the main reason she had worked by the Chi Group Chairperson’s side for so many years.

Hong Yiling knocked on the door forcefully several times. Still receiving no response, she knew she couldn’t delay any longer. She immediately found the course manager, who used his master key to open the bathroom door.

Hong Yiling told the police that the moment the door opened, the sound of running water and a thick mist immediately occupied her senses. That chaotic, blurred scene was as if someone had deliberately plugged her ears and covered her eyes to prevent her from understanding what was happening immediately.

But her nose was working fine. She smelled the thick scent of blood.

Hong Yiling said she was terrified at the time. Acting almost entirely on instinct, she immediately turned around, told the manager and the following staff to back out, and slammed the door shut before they could even react. Ignoring the questioning voices from outside, she took a deep breath and walked toward the place where the scent of blood was strongest.

“When she found her, your sister was lying in a bathtub full of water. Her wrists had been slit, and she had already…” Ran Jin stopped there, out of consideration for Chi Yu’s feelings.

Chi Yu continued her questioning: “Besides the golf course manager, how many people had permission to enter my sister’s lounge?”

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