The train stopped for a little over ten minutes, then slowly pulled away again.
Gu Zheng and Song Ning said goodbye to the chief railway police officer and the conductor, who thanked them repeatedly, then returned to their carriage.
Neither of them hurried back into their compartment.
The soft-sleeper corridor was deserted. The murder had added an inexplicable tension to what had been a leisurely journey.
Gu Zheng and Song Ning stood side by side in the corridor, watching the scenery race past the window.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Finally, Song Ning broke the silence.
"Gu Zheng, are you thinking the same thing I am?"
Gu Zheng turned to look at her, his eyes deep and unreadable.
Song Ning kept her voice very low, but Gu Zheng stood close to her.
He heard her clearly as she said, "The killer's target was probably me, wasn't it?"
Gu Zheng gazed steadily at Song Ning. He said nothing, but he did not look surprised either.
Song Ning said softly, "In the few hours I spent with Chunmei, the only thing that felt off was her attitude toward that man. She was rather bossy and acted superior to him, so he was the first person I suspected.
"I wondered whether humiliation had turned into anger, and he'd plotted to kill his wife.
"But afterward, his grief seemed natural and genuine. When he signed his statement, got up to collect his luggage, and finally shook hands with the railway police officer, it was clear that he habitually used his right hand.
"His fingers were rough, his knuckles thick. Those weren't hands skilled at handling something like a syringe.
"Chunmei was heading toward the hard-seat carriages with that can of cola. Perhaps she'd simply grown used to treating her husband that way, but