Chapter 16: Darkness Before Dawn (Part 2)
"Four hundred thousand of that was hers—she liquidated her family inheritance. You can't take her money..." I said. "When I sold the gold to Swallow Lin, I only got a million for it. Now that Monkey Drake's been caught too, the gold I sold is probably still in his possession. You need to return the four hundred thousand to my wife—or use this gold to offset the debt!"
Sullivan was caught between laughter and frustration. "You've driven me half insane with worry, and all you care about is using this as collateral to pay your wife back?"
"Yes! The police should prioritize returning my wife's four hundred thousand. Give it back to her!"
Sullivan's curiosity was piqued. His anger faded. He sat beside me and asked, "Let me ask you—what if the gold can't be recovered?"
"What do you mean?"
"Monkey Drake was involved in a lot of stolen goods. We might not get everything back. What if the gold has already been sold and the trail goes cold?"
I mumbled, "Can you prioritize my case based on my merits...?"
"No."
"Then count it as forty thousand less returned. I'll serve a few extra years. I'm going to prison anyway. My wife has suffered by my side for so long. You can't confiscate her money..." I started to choke up, rubbing my eyes. "She couldn't even afford a cup of bubble tea. I'm never letting her live like that again."
An officer said sternly, "Marcus Zhang, if you keep this up, we'll charge you with obstructing law enforcement."
Sullivan waved him off. "Relax. If a citizen has concerns, we should mediate first."
"I don't want mediation. I just want you to return my wife's money. As long as you give it back to her, you can charge me with obstruction—hell, charge me with assaulting an officer!"
"All right, all right. I promise you—if what you say checks out, I'll make every effort to recover the stolen goods and return your wife's four hundred thousand. Even if we can't recover it, I'll ensure she gets her four hundred thousand back. The body cameras are running right now. I can't go back on my word, can I?"
I finally exhaled and handed him the bag. "There you go."
"Can you go to the police station now like a reasonable person?"
"Yes."
"No more stunts?"
"No more stunts."
Sullivan helped me up, unlocked my leg irons, and escorted me down to the police car.
The moment I sat down, a wave of relief washed over me. Every ounce of exhaustion hit at once. I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I slumped against the seat.
Sullivan sighed. "Meeting someone like you... I don't know whether to count it as a blessing or a curse."
"Don't talk anymore, Officer Sullivan..." I murmured. "Let me sleep. I'm so tired."
I fell into a deep sleep.
I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke, I was lying on a folding cot with one hand cuffed to the frame.
Officer Carter sat at the desk nearby. He glanced at me. "Awake? The captain said to let you rest. We'll take your statement soon. Hungry?"
"Starving."
He brought over a container and opened it—piled with ribs, shrimp, and beef. Officer Carter even handed me a cup of bubble tea. "The captain paid for this out of his own pocket. He said you probably haven't had a proper meal in days. Eat up. Once you're in detention awaiting prosecution, you won't be eating this well for a while."
"Thank you."
I picked up my chopsticks and ate ravenously. My appetite usually wasn't this big, but today I couldn't get full. I finished every scrap and drained the bubble tea to the last drop.
When I was done, Officer Carter asked, "Full?"
"Full."
"Let's do your statement."
"Okay."
He helped me up and led me into an interrogation room. I sat in the designated chair, and he unlocked my handcuffs.
Across from me sat Detective Sullivan and several officers. Sullivan's expression was serious. He said, "Suspect Marcus Zhang, you are charged with the theft of three pure gold zodiac figurines from Victor Li's residence. We are now beginning your interrogation. Do you confess?"
"I confess."
Those three simple words left my mouth, and my whole body relaxed. My conscience was clear.
...
Life in detention was crushingly boring. There was nothing to do. During the day you weren't allowed to lie in bed, and the television was rarely turned on. I finally understood the phrase "boredom can kill."
People found ways to pass the time—talking about how they'd ended up inside, playing word-chain games, sneaking cigarettes when the guards weren't looking.
Detective Sullivan had someone bring me a pack of cigarettes every day. He'd drop by to chat, especially when all the gold zodiac figurines were recovered. He gave me the news personally—told me the four hundred thousand had been returned to my wife.
I asked him about Tai Sun's parents. He said the old couple had been hit hard. They'd traveled thousands of miles to find their son, only to discover this. The old man had left the hospital barely able to walk—the shock had likely triggered a stroke.
Sullivan was kind. He brought me smokes and kept me updated on the case.
But eventually he stopped coming in person, sending cigarettes through Officer Carter instead. When I did catch a glimpse of him, he looked bone-tired. I asked Officer Carter about it. He said the captain had been buried in work.
Officer Carter liked to joke with me. In his free time, he'd chat about his ambition to solve big cases and be as formidable as Detective Sullivan. He didn't seem to get much respect in the department—the other officers teased him, and he'd get flustered and argue with them.
Then Officer Carter stopped coming too. People said his belongings had been packed away neatly—his dress uniform left for his family, his work uniform and ashes buried together.
I didn't understand much about police work. I just found it impossible to process.
He'd been so cheerful, talking to me about his dreams. And then, without warning, he was gone. I never even learned how he fell in the line of duty. But for the first time, I felt the real weight behind that badge.
After Officer Carter's death, no one brought me cigarettes anymore. I never saw Detective Sullivan either. I didn't really smoke anyway, so I just stopped.
Life inside was regimented—up at dawn, in bed by curfew. I'd never lived this regularly.
When people chatted, some said they were in for theft, others for fighting. One man said he'd been locked up for harboring a criminal—he'd actually eaten the evidence to protect someone.
The others laughed at him, calling him an idiot for protecting someone else and ending up in jail himself.
I didn't laugh. Instead, I wondered—was I the kind of criminal worth helping? Probably. Because Detective Sullivan had reached out his hand to me.
When I finally saw Detective Sullivan again, it was at my trial.
A lot of people came that day. I entered the courtroom in handcuffs. Elena and both sets of parents were there too.
They sat near the front. No one was crying—they just looked at me with red eyes, forcing smiles.
I smiled back as best I could, so happy just to see them.
The judge conducted the proceedings with care. Detective Sullivan stood at the witness stand and testified sincerely: "After the crime occurred, Marcus Zhang showed a very strong inclination to turn himself in. Although he delayed doing so, during that time he rendered major meritorious service, contributing significantly to solving the Monkey Drake syndicate case, saving considerable resources and recovering substantial losses."
"Although he stole the pure gold zodiac figurines in a moment of impulse, upon discovering a massive quantity of gold, he immediately reported and handed it over to me. I believe this demonstrates that Marcus Zhang is not fundamentally a bad person. While he did break the law, he did not lose his moral compass. Afterward, he risked his safety to assist the police investigation, enabling us to capture Victor Li—a key figure in the case. He also saved a drowning girl. Multiple officers involved in the arrest can verify this."
"As the lead investigator on both cases, I respectfully request leniency for Marcus Zhang. He committed a crime but promptly made amends without causing significant social harm. I hope the court will allow him to reintegrate into society as soon as possible."
The judge listened, reviewed the documents, and asked me, "Marcus Zhang, is there anything you wish to say?"
"Um... I already confessed..."
"I'm asking if there's anything you'd like to say at this moment."
I considered for a long time, then said, "I used to think life was terrible. That everyone had wronged me. That I hadn't done anything wrong, yet fate kept punishing me. It was thoughts like these that drove me to crime. And only after I committed that crime did I realize what a colossal mistake I'd made."
"What mistake?"
"I used to live with a clear conscience. Even if circumstances pushed me to it, that crime became a stain—a source of shame for me and my family. If I were given a second chance, if heaven gave me the opportunity to start over, I would rather carry the pride of an innocent man and live with integrity."
The judge nodded. He didn't comment. He let others speak.
Near the end of the trial, he said, "All rise."
Everyone stood.
"The defendant, Marcus Zhang, is charged with theft. The evidence is conclusive, and the facts of the crime are clear. The court now renders its verdict. The defendant stole property of especially large value, which warrants a severe sentence. However, the defendant demonstrated a willingness to surrender, promptly returned the stolen goods, and rendered major meritorious service in assisting law enforcement. The court sentences the defendant to three years in prison. As the defendant has already served two months in detention, the remaining sentence is two years and ten months. Does the defendant wish to appeal?"
"I don't appeal. From what could have been over ten years down to three—I'm satisfied. I'll behave well and earn an early release."
"If you wish to contest the verdict, you may file a written appeal within ten days... Court adjourned!"
I turned to look at Elena.
She clenched her fist and mouthed, You've got this.
I couldn't hold back. I shouted, "Wait for me—I love you!"
The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the stern judge cracked a smile before snapping, "Order in the court!"
I was led away. My prison sentence had officially begun.
Not long after I was incarcerated, word came that Victor Li had been sentenced to death. His son Howard Li was also behind bars.
Victor Li had faked his own death. Now he would die for real. I could only congratulate him on his wish coming true.
In prison, you could write letters and make phone calls.
Because I behaved well, I never had trouble getting my letters and calls through. The guards praised my conduct, and I wrote about everything.
"Baby, how are Mom and Dad? I couldn't get a sewing machine assignment in here—they put me to work as an electrician. Once when I was working, I accidentally got a shock. My hand went all tingly, and I just burst into tears. The instructor asked me why I was crying, and I said I was thinking of you—because the first time I held your hand, it felt exactly like that."
"Baby, I got your letter. Mom and Dad are doing fine. We were out of cooking oil at home, so I stir-fried your letter in the wok and got half a pot of oil. From now on, no need to buy cooking oil—we'll just rely on your letters. The stalled project is resuming construction nicely. They say it'll be ready for move-in in another two months. Also, the house received a five hundred thousand yuan transfer from unknown sources. I'm checking with the bank."
...
"Baby, I won a basketball award in prison. The guards said winning prizes helps with sentence reduction. Honestly, I'm terrible at basketball—I just rode my teammates' coattails. They're really good. Has the person who transferred the money been tracked down?"
"Baby, I'm so proud of you for winning. The money sender has been identified. There are two transfers. One person sent three hundred thousand—I tracked them down. It's a stranger. He said the money is for you, to use for renovating the house. The other transfer is from your classmate Henry Wang. He sent two hundred thousand. He said that during the time I was away, you and he did some business together. This is his share of the profits and a thank-you. How come I didn't know you were in business? Where did you get the capital to work with him? Also, Henry Wang has been coming by to help out a lot since you went to prison. He takes good care of our family—he even found me a job. I never realized you two were so close. True friendship really shows in hard times!"
...
Two years passed in a flash.
I packed my things. The guards told me I was being released.
I'd earned a sentence reduction for good behavior, getting out a year early.
They said someone was coming to pick me up. I walked out eagerly, expecting my family—but when I stepped through the prison gates, I found not my loved ones, but an unfamiliar middle-aged man.
He was mild-mannered and looked vaguely familiar, but I didn't know him.
I studied his face, racking my memory. Then I remembered—that night when Nora Zhao had me drive her to see her boyfriend one last time, there was a sweet, earnest man in a suit and tie standing by the road holding flowers for what seemed like forever.
I said, "You're... Wesley Wei?"
"Hello. Have we met?"
"We have. Your name is pretty memorable—otherwise I'd never have placed it."
He scratched the back of his head, looking bashful. "Thanks."
I recalled what Elena had written in her letters and asked directly, "What brings you? Is this about the three hundred thousand?"
"Yes. I transferred it on Nora's behalf. Since you were getting out today, I told your family I'd come pick you up."
"Why did she give me money? And how is she, anyway? She must still be in prison, right?"
"She passed away. Over a year ago."