Chapter 395: Jack's Testimony (Part 2)
Chapter 395: Jack's Testimony (Part 2)
"Motivation, you say... Hmph..." Feng Bu Jue began his nonsense. "Judging from what you've told us... your relationship with your brother isn't exactly warm, would 'distant' be an understatement?" He shrugged. "Your elder brother is mature, responsible, and successful in his career. Meanwhile, you're already past thirty, essentially achieving nothing, living without stable income."
Feng Bu Jue's talent for fabrication was truly unmatched. He continued, "Personality determines destiny, Jack. I've seen countless youths like you who claim to 'chase dreams' but use that term as an excuse for indulgence - a way to deceive both yourself and others." He picked up his notebook, flipping through as he read, "At nineteen, against your family's objections, you dropped out of university to join a bottom-tier rock band as lead vocalist. For the next five or six years, you traveled and performed sporadically. Most gigs brought no income, and audience reactions ranged from indifference to hostility. So essentially... you were burning through your family's money to fund this so-called 'dream.'"
"Hmph... What would you know? How could someone like you understand the depth of our music? You're just another brainwashed little citizen - a war-monger, religious zealot, and bureaucrat in waiting." Jack scoffed. "And speaking of, you're younger than me, aren't you? Why lecture me like some moral high horse..."
"You're like a cockroach." Feng Bu Jue cut him off coldly. "A half-baked hippie, a pioneer of counterculture. I know your type well... selfish, self-absorbed, chasing pleasure while avoiding work. You rebel against the values your parents indoctrinated you with, yet lack genuine convictions of your own. You despise corporate greed, lament traditional morality's narrowness, and oppose war's inhumanity. So you vent through rock music, parading your cynicism. You scream 'love and peace,' believing yourselves pure, passionate, and noble. But the world doesn't change through such delusions.
Eventually, when this all fades, one day your parents will age. Having spent years evading adult responsibilities through hollow excuses, you'll realize your youth was wasted in meaningless escape. Looking back, you'll see a foolish youth - with ridiculous hairstyle, smoking marijuana, shouting empty slogans.
Your idealism sounds beautiful, but you lack the ability to make it real."
Jack stood stunned, as did Scofield. Neither knew how to respond.
"I was once a cynic too, Jack." Feng Bu Jue leaned back, staring upward. "If you think trash musicians like you - smoking weed, chasing women, indulging in self-funded travels - can change the world, then I and Martin Luther King could form a rap duo. You think a few vague anti-government lines in your songs can change society? I've tried that. It doesn't work."
"Uh..." Jack was speechless. These words cut deeper than anything his family or friends had ever said.
"Back to the topic..." Feng Bu Jue flipped a page. "Five or six years later, your band signed with another subpar record label and released an album. Sales were terrible, and the company quickly went bankrupt." He paused. "Soon after, your band disbanded. Later you moved to North America, working as a TV commercial music composer." His tone dripped with mockery. "How does it feel serving those fat-cat capitalists?"
Unable to counter, Jack shifted gears. "What does this have to do with my brother's death?"
"Patience, officer." Feng Bu Jue smiled. "Ideals are beautiful, but surviving reality's blows comes first." He spread his arms. "You're lucky, Jack, born into wealth. Superior living conditions, education, financial support after dropping out - all handed to you freely. Yet you're also unlucky for the same reason. Reality's punch came too late...
Your father gave you a life many can only dream of, and you squandered it.
Years ago, when your father finally cut financial support, you - nearly thirty - faced 'reality' alone for the first time. You discovered 'survival' wasn't so simple.
Adult life holds no simplicity, no free rides. To eat, you must work. To maintain privilege, you must strive twice as hard. To stand above others, you must possess extraordinary qualities.
As for 'changing the world'..." He scoffed. "We won't discuss that."
Feng Bu Jue stood, pacing toward him. "Now you understand poverty's bitterness better than anyone. Staying in cheap motels without hot water, sleeping on filthy beds, surviving on two daily bread-and-water meals, trembling with anxiety after submitting songs fearing rejection - which meant starving..." He stopped before Jack, his gaze piercing. "You, Brother Ar Se, this once-privileged young noble, should have grown tougher through these hardships. And your fear of poverty must run deeper than those born poor."
A cold laugh escaped Feng Bu Jue. "Your father's worsening health in recent years doesn't bode well... Should he die, what would this rebellious second son inherit? In your family's eyes, aren't you just a reckless, irresponsible young noble who squanders money? Any inheritance you received would only be wasted, wouldn't it..."
Jack's eyes betrayed his urge to defend himself, but Feng Bu Jue accelerated his speech. "Never mind how much the stepmother and sister from seven years ago might claim... By standard inheritance laws, Dennis posed the largest obstacle." Though baseless, his words flowed logically. "With your already poor relationship, wouldn't killing him to claim the fortune that could change your life seem... natural?"
Scofield nodded. "Makes sense. Today's argument became the spark. You decided in the corridor, then returned to your room to plan the murder." The detective, familiar with Feng Bu Jue's methods, smoothly played his role.
"You..." Jack couldn't believe this detective had reconstructed his life story so vividly from mere family disclosures...
Even Feng Bu Jue himself hadn't expected it. Combining fragments from various accounts of Jack, he'd reconstructed the young noble's journey, then freely speculated about his psychological evolution. Every word hit true - including that Jack had indeed harbored murderous intent toward Dennis.
Jack clenched his teeth, laughing bitterly. "Fine, since you've gone this far..." He stood, arms wide. "Let me speak plainly then..." His smile turned icy. "I didn't kill anyone. Motive or not, before Carol found the corpse, I stayed in my room packing. Not a single step out. I won't confess to something I didn't do. If you have evidence, arrest me!" He thrust his hands toward Scofield, adopting a defiant posture.
(End of Chapter)
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