Chapter 27 It Has to Be Done Even If It Doesn't Work!

Back in the Sheng family, Little One spent most of his time with Marissa, except for classes. Marissa was chubby and ate very little for breakfast and lunch, but would eat more for dinner. Before bed, she would sneak into the kitchen, bring back lots of food, and wolf it down.

Marissa took care of his daily needs, but they rarely talked. He overheard her talking about weight loss during a phone call. Feeling lonely at her employer's house due to the language barrier, she secretly called one of her friends who were traveling with her.

At first, Marissa was secretive, afraid of being discovered and losing her job. Several times, while the young master was playing with his toys, she would cover the phone and speak softly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye from time to time. Only after she was sure that the boy seemed to be used to it did Marissa start making phone calls secretly during work hours more and more frequently. Sometimes she would even laugh so hard that she would cover her mouth and her shoulders would shake exaggeratedly.

Marissa thought Shengfang didn't understand, but in fact, he knew everything. The butler was in charge of "managing" these maids. He once leaned forward and stood in front of the young master, asking him if he was satisfied with Marissa's performance, or if she had been lazy, etc... The young master just shook his head, because he wanted to hear those warm daily conversations, those lively sounds.

Therefore, Shengfang knows what "slimming" is.

The significant change in weight and even the decrease in strength in a short period of time is, of course, because the murderer "keeps fit"!

However, this conversation doesn't seem suitable for children to participate in.

He couldn't understand.

The children ate lunch while listening to the key words spoken by Zhu Qing and Dr. Cheng.

Such as rigor mortis, livor mortis, autopsy, etc.

The child remained unmoved and even wanted another steak set meal.

These are all minor incidents; after all, he's the policeman's uncle.

Normally, when Uncle eats, he always hears Qingzai urging him to hurry up. Although he still eats slowly and methodically, seeing his niece so eager, the young elder can't help but want to teach her a lesson; worrying is inevitable. But today, Qingzai's performance was perfect. Her attention was entirely on the forensic doctor Cheng's report. With one hand holding a spoon, she stirred the char siu fried rice, and before she knew it, the fried rice was almost gone.

As he put down his fork, Sheng Fang glanced at the clock on the wall of the police station canteen. He didn't want to go back with Aunt Ping and was trying to blend in with Qingzai, hoping not to be discovered! The child zipped up his mouth again, not only keeping his little mouth tightly shut but also taking lighter steps to minimize his presence.

Dr. Cheng was about to deliver the report to Inspector Mok when the three of them arrived. He glanced at the kid pretending to be invisible behind him and was about to speak—

The moment it bloomed, its eyes widened in surprise.

Despite his small stature, he exuded a powerful aura, waving his small, round fists to intimidate people, which "frightened" Cheng Xinglang into silence, causing him to purse his lips and chuckle softly.

As for Zhu Qing, as soon as she returned to her workstation, she immediately told Zeng Yongshan the news she had just received from Dr. Cheng.

The original female lead reacted quickly: "I'll call my mom and ask."

Not long after, Mo Zhenbang walked out of the office.

Zeng Yongshan jumped up from her workstation: "My mom said that Zhan Weiqiang's physique hasn't changed much in the past few years."

Yi Dongmei and Zhan Weiqiang have been colleagues for many years. Although they have no personal relationship, she has watched him go from having nothing to being successful.

As far as I can remember, he's maintained a similar build over the years, but his face looks much more energetic than before. Teacher Yi said it's because after Zhan Weiqiang entered this industry, he started paying attention to his image, adjusting his eyebrow shape, drawing the tail of his eyebrows every morning before leaving the house, and then clipping his car keys to his waist—the very demeanor of a successful person.

"In other words, the suspect's weight did not change significantly during that year."

Mo Zhenbang turned to Cheng Xinglang and asked, "Dr. Cheng, the ligature marks are of varying depths. Besides the perpetrator's weight changes, are there any other possibilities?"

“There are many possibilities.”

Cheng Xinglang told them that there's a difference between a killer's first murder and a seasoned one; the ligature marks in later cases were shallower, perhaps because he realized this method was more efficient. Or perhaps, the initial hatred was deeper, a revenge-driven killing, while later the killer's mindset became numb, focusing on a quick and decisive action.

The first person that comes to everyone's mind is Zhan Weiqiang, who is currently the only suspect.

Four murders in a row; the killer was ruthless and meticulously disguised the bodies by applying makeup...

Xu Jiale sat on his desk: "Teacher Yi said that Zhan Weiqiang has no talent for makeup, but he is very good at drawing eyebrows. Could it be that he didn't want to expose this fact, so he simply shaved off the victim's eyebrows?"

These are all the duties of the police. Dr. Cheng has completed his job by delivering the report.

Before leaving, he added, "But I still think it's more likely that the killer's weight changed significantly over the course of a year."

Mo Zhenbang took out the report and opened it again.

What he immediately noticed was the photo of the ligature marks on the victim's neck; both the location and angle of the marks were very similar. However, just now in the office, Dr. Cheng insisted that, after comparing it with the case from a year ago, he discovered that the pressure from the earlier ligature marks was from the perpetrator using their entire body weight to press down, but in the three recent cases, the force was from a horizontal dragging motion. This suggests that the perpetrator may no longer be able to use their weight to subdue the victims.

Of course, those were very minor differences.

This can only serve as a reference provided by Dr. Cheng and is unlikely to be a strong argument.

"Everyone, please organize the information you have," Mo Zhenbang said. "The meeting will begin in three minutes."

When Mo Sir said "three minutes," he actually meant "immediately." The officers were efficient; they took the documents to be reported from their workstations, got up, and followed him to the conference room.

Zhu Qing still had to deal with the children who came to visit the set. Just as she was about to ask Mo Sir for a few more minutes, she saw her uncle wave his hand and make a "super OK" gesture.

"Am I really leaving?" Zhu Qing pointed in the direction of the conference room.

"no problem!"

Zhu Qing quickened her pace to catch up with everyone, while Haozai covered his mouth with one hand to warn her.

"Just now, Inspector Mo asked why the kid hid under his workstation, thinking he couldn't see him?"

"Did he see it?"

"No way, you think he can't see either!"

With a "bang," the conference room door was casually slammed shut.

With her hands clasped on her workstation, she stood solemnly on duty.

He's not a minor troublemaker, he's a reliable uncle.

The first case the child encountered while on duty alone was the "Aunt Ping picking up the young master" case.

Aunt Ping arrived and, after much persuasion, coaxed the child to come back with her.

Shengfang waved her hand and said, "You can go now."

"Will Qingqing agree?" Aunt Ping was still worried.

The young master of the Sheng family looked completely bewildered.

What a joke! Of course, we should listen to our uncle.

Fangfang nodded sincerely: "Mm!"

Finally, Aunt Ping returned to her mansion on paid leave and sat comfortably at her workstation.

This West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit is his domain!

...

The day seemed to pass by exceptionally quickly.

At 5 p.m., my niece and uncle finally got off work.

They left the office and were still discussing what to have for dinner. Fangfang told Qingzai very seriously that he absolutely did not want to eat the hard, stiff vegetable stalks in the police academy cafeteria again.

Before Zhu Qing could reply, he suddenly heard a commotion coming from around the corner.

"Officer, my son only lightly bumped into him, and he fell to the ground on his own. How can you blame me for that?"

"Fighting is illegal, and your son is wrong to hit someone. Didn't you see the bruises on my daughter's face? What if she's disfigured!"

"Who knows if this bruise is new or from before? Their daughter is always running around like a tomboy—"

"What? Who are you calling a tomboy?"

The sound came from the police station. A uniformed officer on duty came out rubbing his temples and happened to run into Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang.

Although the police station is large, colleagues usually see each other when they come and go.

The police officer said helplessly, "When the parents of middle school students have conflicts between their children, they are invited to the principal's office, but the argument gets worse and worse, and they end up at the police station."

Zhu Qing glanced inside and saw the scene was bustling with activity: "Looks like I'll have to work overtime tonight."

“Who says otherwise?” the officer on duty said. “Madam, I’ll get back to work.”

Inside the reporting room, the ceiling fan spun slowly. The little boy looked around and was about to follow the uniformed officer inside to clock in when Zhu Qing pulled him back.

Disputes between students and parents are frequent, and every dispute requires mediation. Their back-and-forth arguments are like a tight band around their ears, constantly buzzing.

Zhu Qing was a little sleepy and stretched. She realized that training at the police academy and officially starting work were completely different experiences. At the police academy, no matter how hard the training was, it was only physical fatigue. But now, her mind was constantly working, and sometimes it would freeze up slightly.

"Qingzai, the braised pork in the police academy cafeteria is not good, I don't like it."

"Also, the rice is both soft and hard. Did they not airfreight their rice?"

The young master, who had been holding back all day, was now talking non-stop.

Zhu Qing answered the question casually, and her tense nerves finally began to relax slowly.

"Qingzai, what if I get into fights with other kids at kindergarten?"

"It depends on whose fault it is."

"Of course it's someone else's fault!"

"Then fight back."

"But niece, what if her family comes looking for you to settle scores?"

"The big fight the big, the small fight the small."

Shengfang had a knowing look on her face.

He hits the children, and Qingzai hits their parents.

Zhu Qingze suddenly felt a jolt—

No, I accidentally blurted out the truth.

You can't teach a minor villain like that!

...

Zhu Daxiong, a witness who witnessed the murder at the container factory a year ago, came to the Yau Ma Tei Police Station alone early the next morning.

His leg injury had not yet healed, and he limped around with crutches.

The officer asked, "Why didn't you bring a family member with you?"

Zhu Daxiong's dry lips twitched into a bitter smile: "We all have to make a living, after all."

Zhu Daxiong was injured at the construction site. The foreman cursed and took out the money for medical expenses. When he threw the money at him, the banknotes grazed his face and fell to the ground.

Now the whole family relies solely on his wife, Su Jinhao, who pushes her jingling food cart back and forth between the construction site and the dock selling boxed meals. Thinking of this, he subconsciously touched his empty pockets, his face full of worry.

Before leaving home this morning, his wife kept urging him to ask if recognizing people would lead to retaliation from the murderer... At this point, Zhu Daxiong spoke up somewhat awkwardly, but fortunately, the police officer did not laugh at him. Instead, he patiently explained what one-way glass meant.

"This is called the identification room. See that glass over there?" the officer said. "You can see inside, but what the suspects inside see is a mirror. Don't worry, it's very safe."

Zhu Daxiong took a deep breath: "Sir, I'm ready."

At Uncle Li's command, people began to line up in the identification room.

Several officers from Team B stood in front of the one-way glass, watching and waiting for Zhu Daxiong, a witness to the case from years ago, to react.

Xu Jiale pointed at his colleague A-Jie inside and joked, "I told you his six-foot height was fake; he just had three-inch thick insoles on his shoes."

“You just realized? Last time we went to Mo Sir’s for hot pot, Ah Jie took off his shoes, and I had to bend down to talk to him,” Hao Zai laughed. “These insoles could be sold as height-increasing shoes.”

The atmosphere was relaxed as the police officers chatted, and Zhu Daxiong's expression was no longer as tense as it had been at the beginning.

He looked left and right several times, and finally, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he shook his head helplessly.

“Officer—” he said, “It was too dark that day, I couldn’t see clearly.”

It was raining heavily that day, and it was even darker. Zhu Daxiong could only vaguely see a figure flash by.

Now, eight people stood in a row with their backs to him. The police had made a big show of it, arranging this procedure specifically. He really wanted to provide the police with clues to help them solve the serial murder case on TV, but the more anxious he became, the blurrier the similar outlines in front of him became.

"Relax," Zeng Yongshan said. "Try to recall if the killer had any obvious characteristics."

“He…” Zhu Daxiong racked his brains, the lines between his brows deepening.

He closed his eyes.

In my memory, there was a torrential downpour, the crisp, rhythmic sound of the rain, and the silhouette of someone running.

“I remember that murderer… He ran very swiftly, but somewhat awkwardly.” Zhu Daxiong said, sounding somewhat dejected.

He hadn't received much formal education, and even describing the killer's back view at a crucial moment was difficult for him; his words were incoherent and contradictory.

Upon hearing this, Uncle Li raised his eyebrows and gave a wink to the police officer beside him, who understood.

Within minutes, the eight figures adjusted their pace, either deliberately speeding up or adjusting the range of their arm swings.

Zhu Daxiong stood still.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally loosened his grip on the crumpled paper cup: "I couldn't help you... The rain that day was just too heavy."

The officers exchanged glances, then simultaneously looked away, their sighs barely audible.

Zhu Daxiong looked apologetic.

"It's alright." Mo Sir gestured with his chin toward the door. "Zhu Qing, see Mr. Zhu out."

...

Zhu Qing escorted Zhu Daxiong out of the police station.

She remembered that when she last went to the hospital to give her statement, his leg injury was more serious than it is now, but he was in much better spirits. At this moment, Zhu Daxiong's eyes were dim and confused, as if he didn't know how to live his life from now on.

Take care.

Zhu Daxiong nodded and went down the steps of the police station building.

Zhu Qing was also confused.

This series of murders on a rainy night is full of suspicious points. While the evidence seems to point to Zhan Weiqiang, there are too many details that cannot be investigated in depth.

The killer's retreating figure was light and agile, yet somehow out of place...

Could it be that Zhan Weiqiang deliberately concealed his habitual running posture in the identification room just now?

Zhu Qing returned to the CID office with a belly full of questions. As soon as she opened the door, she felt the oppressive atmosphere that permeated between the workstations.

She looked at Tsang Wing-shan with her eyes, asking a question. This little ray of sunshine in the police force shrugged and spread her hands, looking very annoyed.

Mo Zhenbang said that the matter has finally been clarified.

Zhan Weiqiang's sudden escape to Lamma Island wasn't just about negotiating business with Liyan Cosmetics Company; more importantly, it was about taking kickbacks. This cosmetics company didn't meet the standards for cooperating with Feiman International Beauty Academy at all, yet he still made guarantees to their manager. The answer was clear: he wasn't honest.

“Zhan Weiqiang did something behind the scenes,” Liang Qikai said, “which is why he doesn’t dare to admit it.”

Uncle Li rubbed his temples, both annoyed and amused: "This kid has some nerve, daring to embezzle public funds. The bank statements and company accounts we retrieved are out, and there are several unaccounted-for transactions."

On the day of the incident, Principal Zheng discovered the accounting problem and, taking advantage of everyone leaving get off work, called him to his office for a talk.

Feeling guilty, Zhan Weiqiang fled to Lamma Island at daybreak, hoping to finalize the deal as soon as possible and make up for the shortfall.

Just then, new information came from the interrogation room. A police officer hurriedly pushed open the door, bringing another important clue provided by the suspect, Zhan Weiqiang.

"Zhan Weiqiang suddenly remembered that on the night Zheng Shihong was murdered, he received a wrong number call. It was so late, and the suspect was agitated and swearing... He suspected that the answering machine at home must have recorded this conversation."

“By retrieving this recording, Zhan Weiqiang will have a solid alibi.”

Zhu Qing sat back down in her seat, the paper cup in her hand still steaming.

She was merely seeing the witness out and stopping by the break room to get a glass of water when, in the blink of an eye, the case took a dramatic turn.

The officers felt both ironic and resentful. Zhan Weiqiang remained silent, and in the end, they had to investigate frantically, uncover the accounting problems, and contact the beauty academy's finance department, managing to clear him of suspicion.

"Take it easy," Zhu Qing said. "Embezzling public funds is also illegal."

Zeng Yongshan gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and said angrily, "Keep an eye on him!"

...

Police investigations rely on evidence, and Zhan Weiqiang has now been cleared of suspicion. His case will be transferred to his colleagues in the Commercial Crime Bureau for further follow-up.

He still clung to a sliver of hope, thinking that as long as he cooperated well, the embezzlement could be wiped clean, after all, Principal Zheng was dead. When the topic of his experience as a bath attendant at "Jinchi Sauna" several years ago came up again, Zhan Weiqiang no longer resisted. He thought back carefully until he heard the police officer's description of Zhang Zhiqiang, the victim in the third case, and then he belatedly realized what had happened.

The television news reported on this serial murder case every day. At the time, Zhan Weiqiang did not pay much attention to the identity of the victims. Now he realized that they were the sauna regulars who had deliberately made things difficult for him.

“I remember him.” Zhan Weiqiang suddenly realized, “I didn’t expect it to be him.”

The deceased, Zhang Zhiqiang, was always arrogant and haughty, and his condescending attitude left a deep impression. Years ago, Zhang Zhiqiang pointed his finger at him and acted bossy in the sauna. It was on that day that Zhan Weiqiang's self-esteem was completely crushed. He told himself that he could no longer endure such humiliation, so he quit his job as a back scrubber and decided to change careers.

However, he had no recollection of Ma Guohua and Feng Yaowen.

Hong Kong is only so big. This former suspect had crossed paths with them, but he himself did not remember ever providing them with any services.

"Sir, after all I've said, can I switch to—" Zhan Weiqiang couldn't remember the word, rubbed his forehead for a long time, and suddenly it dawned on him, "a tainted witness!"

Uncle Li scoffed: "That's not how you use a tainted witness."

No one can plead with the police; if you break the law, you must accept the punishment.

...

Only by identifying the suspect can an investigation be launched and the connection between the suspect and the four victims ultimately determined.

Once again, chaos reigned, and the police were at a loss for what to do, but they would not sit idly by and wait for their doom.

In the meeting room, Inspector Mo and his team of officers went through the details and clues of the case again and again.

The photos of the deceased were pasted in the four corners of the whiteboard, forming a line. These four people had very little in common, and the most obvious thing was that they were all around the same age.

The interrogation of Zhan Weiqiang has temporarily come to an end, but the investigation is not over yet. We cannot rely solely on his side of the story. In addition to filing his bank statements and college accounts, the police need to conduct a second search of his residence and retrieve his phone recordings.

“If one direction is wrong, change the angle and investigate from another direction,” Mo Zhenbang said. “I have never seen a so-called perfect crime.”

Mo Zhenbang divided the files into four stacks and assigned tasks to everyone.

He was to investigate everything about them separately and see a new breakthrough within forty-eight hours.

Zhu Qing and Liang Qikai are in charge of Principal Zheng's case.

As Liang Qikai went downstairs, he opened the file that registered Zheng Shihong's home address.

"Among the four deceased, Zheng Shihong was the most financially well-off. Twenty years ago, when most people were still worried about their children's tuition fees, he had already sent his two children abroad for further studies."

“They settled abroad, got married, had children… The last time they returned to China was five years ago when their mother passed away.”

"I just got in touch with Zheng Shihong's children. They can only leave for China after they have settled down in their lives and work. Judging by the time, they should arrive in the next day or two."

After his wife passed away, Zheng Shihong lived alone. His love life was extremely simple. Apart from his secret relationship with Tracy, there was no news of him having any entanglements with anyone else.

"Did you get his house key?" Zhu Qing asked.

“The vice principal has one,” Liang Qikai said. “Tracy tried everything to get his house key, but he just left it with the vice principal.”

Since they had the key, they didn't need to break down the door, but they had to go to Feman to see the vice principal first.

Just as she left the police station, Zhu Qing spotted a young uncle.

"Young master, you said you were coming to Wing Fat Department Store in Yau Ma Tei to buy a new schoolbag, why are you going to the police station again..."

"It's on the way!"

"Qingqing works very hard investigating the case, let's not cause trouble, okay?"

Shengfang waved her hand: "Aunt Ping, it is the responsibility of citizens to assist the police."

"Why don't we wait until she finishes work? Rongfa Department Store is having a summer special for students today; buy light-up sneakers and get a free stationery set." Aunt Ping pulled out the flyer she had just received.

Inspector Leung noticed that Zhu Qing's previously cold and aloof expression had actually changed as she watched this scene.

It was a faint temperature.

"Qingzai!" Sheng Fang noticed his niece with sharp eyes and ran over.

His niece was already much taller than him, and now she was standing on the steps of the police station building. Fang Fang had to look up at her, and his neck was sore.

But he never expected that his small, soft appearance would touch Qingzai's heart of stone.

“We’ll call it a day after we visit the victim’s home,” Zhu Qing said to Aunt Ping. “Let him come along.”

Fireworks are going off in the hearts of the children again.

Aunt Ping felt a heavy weight on her heart and apologized several times. She was practically an old lady, and her mind wasn't as quick as the young master's; she could easily be fooled by him. Just now, Aunt Ping had been resolute at first, but who knew she would turn around and find herself standing in front of the Yau Ma Tei Police Station building.

Tomorrow... she will definitely stand firm and not let the young master come near Yau Ma Tei again!

...

Zhu Qing discovered that although the child was spoiled and had short legs, he would never complain even if he ran breathlessly with small steps to a place he wanted to go.

The three of them went to the beauty academy to get the keys.

Seeing that the young master was panting heavily, Liang Qikai told them to wait outside and that he would make the trip himself.

Zhu Qing bought Sheng Fang a bottle of water and said as she unscrewed the cap, "Don't you have a small water bottle?"

On her way home from get off work, she often sees many kindergarten children on the street.

They were all wearing brightly colored little round hats, and each had a cartoon-shaped water bottle slung over their small shoulders.

But the young master of the Sheng family is very cool.

He turned his head away; such tricks were beneath the notice of the younger generation.

Zhu Qing handed him the water bottle with the cap unscrewed, and tapped him on the forehead.

"Is that Zhu Qing?" a voice called out. When she turned around, she saw Zeng Yongshan's mother leaning out of the driver's seat of the car.

When Zeng Yongshan came home from work, she always had a lot to say. After the case of the skeleton in the fireplace was closed, Yi Dongmei heard her daughter mention the feuds of the jewelry tycoon's family. When she saw Sheng Fang at a glance, she guessed that he was the legendary young master of the Sheng family.

The child was also observing the stranger, tilting his head slightly, his expression innocent and childlike.

"Auntie." Zhu Qing stepped forward.

With her hands on the steering wheel, Yi Dongmei listened to Zhu Qing say that she had come to retrieve the key to Principal Zheng's house. She sighed and said, "I heard that Principal Zheng's spare key has been in the vice principal's drawer for three whole years. He originally thought that since he lived alone, if his health failed one day, the vice principal would be there to take care of him. The vice principal has never used this key before. I never expected that the first time he would use it would be to cooperate with the police investigation at a murder scene."

Zhu Qing: "I hope we can find some useful clues."

Yi Dongmei nodded: "By the way, Yongshan just asked me about Aqiang's weight loss... She told you, right?"

Just as Zhu Qing was about to answer, a sharp horn blared from behind.

Yi Dongmei's car was blocking the only exit, and in the rearview mirror, Teacher Zhang in the car behind was impatiently urging her to hurry up.

She started the car again, stuck her head out, and said irritably, "Okay!"

As Yi Dongmei drove away, she called out to Madam to come over for dinner sometime.

Zhu Qing kept a close eye on the original female lead's family, asking every day whether her father and brother had returned from their business trip.

I don't know when this case will be closed.

She hoped she could prevent the impending tragedy.

...

Principal Zheng's home is just a short walk from the college, a street away on foot.

At this point, Shengfang immediately chimed in, "See? Principal Zheng is just as smart as his uncle and nephew. He knows that his workplace can't be too far from home."

This was the first time the police had visited Zheng Shihong's home.

The spacious house was spotless; not even a coat was left on the sofa. There were women's toiletries in the bathroom, as Tracy mentioned, she sometimes stayed overnight. At the same time, he had a strict pursuit of quality of life; Liang Qikai squatted in front of the TV cabinet, examining his old record player with admiration.

"This is an antique record player; it's priceless and unavailable now."

"The records they're playing are all rare, out-of-print items... Can Zheng Shihong really have anything in common with Tracy?"

In the interrogation room, Tracy said he was stingy.

It seems that this principal's generosity is also selective, depending on the person he serves.

The little boy, Shengfang, knew that he was in the home of a serial killer.

The children are uninhibited; they can treat it as a visit to Principal Zheng's home.

He wandered around, looking for inspiration from these high-end pieces of furniture, to figure out what else he and his niece needed to add to their new home.

"Qingzai, should we buy a bread maker?"

It lingered in the kitchen for a long time before turning around and walking around the bar.

Besides the bread maker, we also need a coffee machine. We used to have a coffee machine at his house halfway up the mountain, and my second brother-in-law drank it every day. It was a black beverage that the adults said was fragrant and rich, but the little one just thought it smelled bad. However, I think I saw my niece drink it too... So adding a coffee machine is something we can consider.

"Qingzai, do you know anything about coffee machines?"

Zhu Qing peeked out from Zheng Shihong's bedroom: "He has many treasured cameras and video cameras."

Liang Qikai stepped forward: "Principal Zheng's hobbies are all very expensive."

Shengfang trotted in with her short legs.

Cameras and video cameras? You can find them at electronics stores.

Principal Zheng has a passion for all the latest electronic products.

But at the same time, as the lecturers at the college said, he is also a nostalgic person.

Zhu Qing and Liang Qikai found six large photo albums under his bed.

They flipped through the album briefly. He had loved taking photos since he was young, and the refined and cultured Principal Zheng back then was quite similar to his current demeanor. Zheng Shihong and his wife's engagement and wedding photos were included in the album, followed by photos of their children being born one after another. The photos seemed to capture those beautiful moments with love in them.

Inspector Mo made it very clear that Team B officers would work in pairs to investigate the case, conducting a comprehensive investigation into the victim's social relationships, activity patterns, and financial dealings, leaving no detail overlooked. Zhu Qing and Liang Qikai didn't know if the six photo albums would be of any use, so they could only take them with them for now.

"Six photo albums, three for each person," Liang Qikai said with a smile. "Can we finish looking at them all in one night?"

In addition to photo albums, there are dozens of videotapes.

Each disc had to be reviewed frame by frame to confirm whether any images were present; that was the real undertaking.

Since Zhu Qing didn't have a video recorder in her pigeon coop, she simply took all six photo albums with her.

The task of watching the videotapes could only be assigned to Liang Qikai.

"It's so heavy, are you sure you can handle it?" He stepped forward.

Zhu Qing picked up six thick photo albums in one go, and her body swayed slightly.

“Of course.” Sheng Fang proudly raised her chin. “What did you think?”

His niece is a strongwoman!

Zhu Qing immediately steadied herself.

My uncle has made all those boasts; it has to work out, no matter what.

...

My niece's work tasks for the evening have been clearly arranged.

Six photo albums—it's impossible to extract clues from them without a second of non-stop work.

But her uncle still wanted to find her something to do. When he left Principal Zheng's house, he was holding his niece's pager in his hand.

"Qingzai, it's been ringing so many times!"

Madam, who was always on high alert, struggled to carry the six photo albums, without even checking her pockets.

When did this kid steal her pager?

There was a red telephone booth at the street corner not far from Principal Zheng's house. After parting ways with Inspector Leung, the uncle and nephew went to the telephone booth to make a return call.

The blooming leaves another mark in my heart.

We need to register and install a telephone at our new home!

On the other end of the phone line, the real estate agent who received Zhu Qing's call back was all smiles. He used his silver tongue to praise the building to the skies.

Shengfang stood on tiptoe, his ears perked up high, and he could vaguely hear what the other person was saying, his heart pounding in his throat.

"Buy it!" the young master said in a low voice, "Qingzai, buy it!"

"What's the lowest price?" Zhu Qing asked casually.

Shengfang's eyes were wide open, her little hands were on her hips, and she shook her head like a rattle drum.

It can't go any lower; it's already a fire sale price. Any lower and it'll be sold to someone else!

The child was really annoying, so Zhu Qing pressed his head down with one hand to stop him from jumping up.

The uncle nodded and shook his head at the same time, and soon after, he heard his niece reply even more resolutely.

"We won't consider this price."

The little uncle was incredulous. He leaned against the phone booth and slid to the ground in despair.

His niece now has a wealthy mother and a wealthy uncle, but she seems to often forget about them.

Qingzai was used to it. For twenty years, she had been alone, always trying her best to live, though she wasn't wrong—

But their almost-finished new home was gone just like that!

Overwhelmed with grief, the child stuck a finger into his ear canal to muffle the sound of his heart breaking.

Meanwhile, his other hand, unable to stay idle, casually flipped through the photo album that Zhu Qing had neatly piled on the ground.

Even children aren't interested in everything.

Shengfang casually flipped through the photo album, page after page. Just when she was feeling most listless, she saw her niece hang up the phone with a "click".

Shengfang turned her head away.

"We'll sign a provisional contract on Wednesday," Zhu Qing said casually. "We'll only offer 90% of the market price."

She half-squatted down, picked up the six large photo albums again, and bent down to tidy up the mess left by the child.

When she pushed open the small door of the phone booth, she heard Shengfang's excited and joyful little voice.

"Are you ready to sign the contract?"

"You bought it?"

"Qingzai, you're amazing!"

Zhu Qing walked ahead, looking down to close the open photo album: "Looking for the minibus stop."

Fangfang, a young boy, exclaimed in a strong voice, "Yes, madam!"

Zhu Qing's lips unconsciously curled up, but her hand paused for a moment.

She suddenly looked down and quickly flipped the album back to the page where the photo had just been displayed.

Zhu Qing saw a large group photo.

The group photo has at least fifty people, the scene is childlike and cute, and colorful helium balloons float in mid-air.

At first, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Feng Yaowen, the owner of the breakfast shop, sitting in the corner with an expressionless face. Just as Zhu Qing was wondering why Feng Yaowen was in Zheng Shihong's photo album, she then saw Ma Guohua, Zhang Zhiqiang…

Ma Guohua, the deceased at the container factory, is adjusting balloons in the scene, with half of his body leaning into the camera, his palm facing upwards, as if he is about to fall.

Zhang Zhiqiang, the manager of Xinjing Hotel, wasn't this pot-bellied when he was younger. He sat on the steps with one knee bent, looking quite casual.

Finally, she found Zheng Shihong in this group photo.

He seemed to have been pulled in for a photo at the last minute, unprepared, and was talking towards a corner with something in his mouth.

The sunlight was blinding, and Zhu Qing moved closer to the photo, finally able to see it clearly.

He had a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth, just like the way Principal Zheng died in the rainy night serial murder case.

To be precise, the posture of each of them at the moment of death was exactly the same as that in this old photograph.

The murderer carefully arranged the body after committing the crime.

It replicates every detail of the photo.

Zhu Qing's fingers clenched tightly at the edge of the photo album, and it took her a long time to come back to her senses.

Just as I was about to ask the child if he had found the bus stop, I discovered that he had already quietly slipped to the side of the road, keeping his actions discreet from his niece.

Fangfang stood on tiptoe, raised her two little arms high, and silently mouthed, "Taxi—"