Pristine Darkness

Chapter 73

In this chapter, Bo Jinyan sheds light on the identity of the Butterfly Killer by showcasing his deductions in an impressively detailed criminal profile. Par for the course for him, naturally! Meanwhile, Bo Jinyan and Jian Yao find themselves at loggerheads, but it is abundantly clear that they love each other.

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Translator: shl

Editor/ Proofreader: Summer

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No matter how long she pondered the issue, Jian Yao was still puzzled by one thing - she had originally thought, if the killer was really a serial killer, then there must be a regular pattern to the selection of victims. Moreover, when he chose Nie Shijun, there must have been some distinguishing feature. Who could have expected that his second victim would be a tramp whose characteristics were entirely different from Nie Shijun's? Of course, it wasn't as if such cases had never occurred before. The United States had serial killers whose prey ran the gamut of humankind, from old to young, male to female. But, in such a situation, it would be even more difficult to suss out the pattern of the killer's behaviour.

She walked out of the crime scene to see that Bo Jinyan was already standing at the traffic light intersection, his face expressionless, so she did not know what he was thinking.

Jian Yao walked over to him.

Very naturally, he grasped her hand and pulled her gently into his embrace. Just like before, he was extremely clingy. Who knows when this old aspect of his temperament had resurfaced.

"Uhm . . ." Before he could say another word, she had already hummed softly in response.

He lowered his head. His sunglasses reflected the light, and his lips were slightly pursed.

"I already know how to find the killer."

Jian Yao blinked twice, smiled, and said, "Oh."

However, she found herself unable to smile at his next words.

"Before nightfall today, I will solve the case and catch this smart-ass idiot. Tomorrow, go back to Beijing and wait for me at home."

Jian Yao did not speak.

Bo Jinyan paused before looking up. He turned his face to one side and tapped his fingers briefly on his walking stick before saying, "And, keep more distance between you and that Luo Lang."

——

He dreamt of butterflies once again.

This time, the dream was especially vivid. It was as if he had returned to his teenage years when he and his closest friend had climbed that mountain.

Lukewarm, ambiguous, rapidly beating heart, living in the green mountains and clear waters that only a child of that era could experience. Who could know the troubles of youth?

Then, it was her smile, sweet and moving, which tugged at and captured everyone's heart.

Then, he dreamt again of butterflies, moist, wriggling butterflies in all their variety. They say that dreaming of butterflies results from desire, and he also strongly believes this.

Sometimes, he would dream of withered, bleeding butterflies. It was always hazy, a vague impression that flashed across his mind, which he could never remember clearly.

This was his secret. Even as an adult, whenever he experienced a setback in his relationship with her, or when he was injured at work, or when something made him unhappy, he would always dream of a butterfly, leading him to flutter in the breeze. That butterfly would have the most animated wings, and exude an aura that was hard to describe, of both liberation and the shattering of hope.