Along the way to the scene of the crime, Song Qingchun checked her phone, and as the officer said, there was a recorded message from Tang Nuan in her Whatsapp inbox. She clicked it open, and Tang Nuan's broken up last words came through. "There is recorder purse"
When they arrived at the scene, Tang Nuan was already covered under the while sheet. This was the third time Song Qingchun had faced the death of a familiar figure in her. The, first was her mother, second was Song Cheng, and now it was Tang Nuan.
Even though there had been plenty of bad blood between her and Tang Nuan, when she walked toward the carrier with shaking legs and unveiled the white cloth to reveal Tang Nuan's starkly pale face that was wiped clean, the anger and resentment she once felt toward the other woman melted like snow at the first sign of sun. In their place was an inexplicable heartache and sadness.
When their rivalry was at its height, Song Qingchun did wish the worst upon Tang Nuan, but now when it seemed like they were finally going to bridge that rivalry, she passed away.
Just this morning, she came into her office with an offering of breakfast. They chatted merrily, and Tang Nuan even thanked her with sincerity. But now she was lying there soullessly, fallen into her eternal slumber.
Before Song Qingchun left the company, they even shared a meaningful smile, a smile that seemed to wash away the misunderstandings and arguments that had built up between them over the years.
At the time, she had even thought, Maybe I don't hate Tang Nuan as much as I thought I do.
In a way, hating a person for ten years meant that said person had a place in your heart, didn't it? Song Qingchun even planned after having the conversation with Su Zhinian. She would have called Tang Nuan to ask her what she was going to say to her that afternoon when she stopped her at the elevator. She had many plans including a plan of reconciliation, but before that could happen, Tang Nuan died.
How can Tang Nuan just die like that? Song Qingchun looked at Tang Nuan with her eyes closed and startlingly pale lips, and her tears fell.
There were still police officers at the scene, taking pictures to record the crime scene. Tang Nuan's car was an unrecognizable wreck, and the front of the car was still billowing with white smoke.
The driver's seat was filled with blood, and some had already dried and hardened. The whole crime scene was filled with the stale, nauseating smell of blood. Some came from the mother, some from the child
Song Qingchun felt her throat closing. Just a few days ago, she had saved her from Mrs. Huang's assault. Everything was still fresh in her mind, so how could everything change so fast and so soon?
One of the officers kept talking on the phone. It should have been the officer who called Song Qingchun earlier. After hanging up, he walked to a middle-aged officer, who was probably the leading investigator, and the younger officer reported, "The call just now confirmed the victim is someone's mistress. There was a witness who saw she was assaulted by the wife a few days ago on the street. Boss, do you think it could be possible that the victim used a drug to escape the pressure from being found out and this is ultimately just an accident?"
After a pause, he added, "Or perhaps, this is a suicide attempt and the hallucinogens was a means to summon her courage?"
"Impossible!" Song Qingchun, who had been quiet since she arrived at the scene, suddenly stood up from the ground and rejected those speculations firmly. "Impossible, Tang Nuan would never commit suicide."
For the sake of her child, she had even begged Song Qingchun to help her. Even when she was physically assaulted, she did everything she could to protect her child.