Chapter 12: They are not in a romantic relationship.
Zhu Qing came here hoping to find out about the connection between Cheng Zhaoqian and the deceased He Jiaer from Sheng Peirong, but unexpectedly, she gained new clues from the nurses' casual conversation.
It's always inconvenient to investigate a case while carrying a child, especially since the abducted child is the esteemed young master of the Sheng family.
Outside the sanatorium, Zhu Qing looked around, preparing to take him back first.
A sense of foreboding washed over him: "What are you looking for?"
"Look where the minibus stop is."
"Minibus?!" The young master's voice rose eight octaves. "Call a taxi!"
Zhu Qing silently turned her two pockets inside out, the fabric swaying in the air.
"What's the meaning?"
"Empty."
The location of affluent neighborhoods is always so illogical; the route to the hillside is winding, requiring even minibuses to make several transfers...
What's more, it's a taxi, and the meter can jump so high it hurts her wallet.
"Try looking again!" Sheng Fang persisted, stomping her foot angrily. "How can you be so poor!"
Zhu Qing retorted, "You have money?"
The young master of the Sheng family was about to explode.
Which young master goes out with his own travel expenses?
Outside the sanatorium, a cold-faced policewoman and a hot-tempered young master are locked in a stalemate.
Until a black car stopped beside them.
“Madam.” Sheng Peishan’s voice remained gentle and soft. After speaking, her gaze fell on her younger brother, and she shook her head helplessly. “Mischievous again?”
Sheng Peishan politely invited Zhu Qing into the car and took her back to the police station.
Miss Sheng's personal maid, Aunt Liu, sat in the back seat with her. Sheng Fang was small enough to squeeze into the space between them, while Zhu Qing sat in the passenger seat.
It's clear that Shengfang rarely goes out and has never ridden in her second sister's private car, a modified sedan with a strong mechanical feel, with the little one craning her neck to examine the various switches.
"Thank you, Madam, for taking care of my brother."
"I just heard from Sister Zhang that you came specifically to bring my little brother a toy. I'm sorry, I was in a rush and didn't have time to say hello." Sheng Peishan paused, then continued, "My sister lives inside..."
"There have been so many changes at home these past few days that it's easy to be a little careless. I never expected my younger brother to hide it in the trunk. Luckily, Madam was alert."
After expressing her gratitude and apology, Miss Sheng Er did not speak again.
The nurse said that the second young lady and Sheng Peirong were very close sisters. Even though her older sister became a vegetable, she still insisted on reading the newspaper to her every month.
Zhu Qing couldn't help but recall the scene from yesterday afternoon when she saw Miss Sheng sitting in front of the curved floor-to-ceiling window of the villa on the hillside.
When the Major Crimes Unit B was finishing up, Mo Sha Zhan specifically told her that he would contact her again after the autopsy report was released.
At that time, Sheng Peishan said in a very soft voice, "Thank you for your trouble, officers."
It was as if all their strength was being used to maintain their last shred of dignity.
"There—" Shengfang: "Is that the Yau Ma Tei Police Station?"
As the car was about to stop in front of the police station, the young master saw the familiar location on the TV and suddenly leaned half his body out of the car window.
The driver was startled and immediately slammed on the brakes to a stop.
"Young Master!" Aunt Liu immediately supported the child's body.
Sheng Peishan quickly added, "It's dangerous."
The vehicle jolted, and bits of debris slid out of the storage compartment.
Zhu Qing bent down to help pick it up.
Curly-haired young master was held captive by Aunt Liu, unable to make a sound, his mind already wandering to the impressive West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit.
...
As soon as Zhu Qing returned to the CID room, she immediately knocked on Mo Zhenbang's office door.
After she finished speaking, Inspector Mo pondered for a moment.
"You suspect that Chen Chaosheng and He Jiaer are not in a romantic relationship?"
He Jia'er, as described by Zhong Rujun, has lofty ideals.
Could someone like her, driven by unrequited love, really blackmail a married man? Zhu Qing didn't believe it.
“Every student and journalist who participates in the Hong Kong News New Talent Program will receive a souvenir after the event: a dark green leather notebook with gold lettering and a custom-made fountain pen.” Zhu Qing pointed to the fountain pen pinned to the deceased’s chest in the photo.
"Before Sheng Peirong fell into a coma, she would hold onto a notebook every day, repeatedly saying that it contained news about her daughter."
"Where's the notebook?"
"It got lost when they moved the ward..."
“Even if the notebooks are the same,” Mo Zhenbang tapped the table, “so many people participate in the ‘Emerging Talent Program,’ how can we be sure that He Jia’er gave it to us? This event has always had celebrities on the side, and it’s not surprising that the Sheng family sponsored it. Maybe Sheng Peirong just thought the notebook was beautiful and kept it casually.”
"As for her reciting the contents of the notebook... you also said that she suffers from severe PTSD and depression, and hallucinations and delusions are common symptoms."
Zhu Qing: "But how do you explain Cheng Zhaoqian—"
On the desk lay the case file of the White Bone Case. Mo Zhenbang stood up and pressed his hands heavily on it.
His voice was deep and imposing.
"Why don't you give me an explanation first?"
"If Chen Chaosheng and He Jiaer aren't in a relationship, how do you explain the engraved couple's rings? How do you explain him stopping the construction team in the middle of the night, yet the fireplace was completed in such a short time? And what about the deliberately fabricated alibi—"
Mo Zhenbang stepped forward, his eyes sharp: "Zhu Qing, investigations require evidence."
Outside the office, Clerk Zhen received a phone call and shouted loudly.
"Hey, a kid's calling looking for a penniless guy."
"Which one is penniless?"
Zhu Qing: ...
After Zhu Qing left with her head down, Mo Zhenbang raised his hand and rubbed his temples.
The doubts lingered, and he tried to convince himself that it was all just a coincidence.
Mo Zhenbang's gaze fell on the old photos on his desk.
That was a group photo taken when he first joined the Hong Kong Police Force; he was young, stubborn, and full of vigor.
Before sitting down again, he picked up the internal phone on the table.
"Twenty years ago, the daughter of Sheng Peirong and Cheng Zhaoqian..."
"Investigate this; I want to know exactly how that child died."
...
Amidst the bewildered gazes of the crowd, Zhu Qing walked towards the telephone.
"What kind of code is this?" Uncle Li chuckled. "The Poverty Alleviator's Hotline?"
The Eight Trigrams are human nature.
The officers in Team B had long been intrigued by this mysterious new recruit, and now, with the nickname the kids had given her, whispers and gossip were rampant.
"Yongshan wears a brand new outfit every day after work, while Zhu Qing's T-shirts fade from washing!"
"Someone actually dared to refuse Aaron Kwok's concert tickets..."
In this well-acquainted team, Zhu Qing was the only one who remained a mystery.
As Liang Qikai, who had just been transferred, listened to his colleagues chatting and laughing, his gaze unconsciously followed her upright figure.
Is this cold-faced policewoman so unapproachable even when she's on the phone for hours?
"Go ahead, I'm listening." Zhu Qing held the microphone in one hand and organized the documents she had just brought into Mo Sir's office with the other.
"I just got home. There's someone carrying a telephoto lens on the big tree at three o'clock." The calm, childlike voice of the young master of the Sheng family came through the phone line. "I saw it through binoculars."
When Mr. Sheng was still alive, he could protect Sheng Fang in everything he did.
But now, the person is gone. As early as the day the case of the skeleton was filed, paparazzi infiltrated the Sheng family and kept their eyes fixed on the direction of the children's room on the third floor. They must have already guessed something at that time.
"Are you scared?" Zhu Qing looked down and opened the folder.
"I'll use a slingshot to shoot him." The sound of a rubber band tightening came from the other end of the phone. Sheng Fang was a little unwilling. "The distance is too far, I can't shoot him over."
Zhu Qing held the phone receiver to her ear: "Have the adults chase the paparazzi away."
"Marisa and her bodyguard? It's just a job, very perfunctory," Sheng Fang said worldly-wise.
The Filipino maid Marissa takes care of his daily life, and the bodyguards are responsible for his personal safety. In the huge Sheng family, the young master can only think of the police station's madam when he wants to talk to someone.
"Then you can go find—"
Suddenly, Zhu Qing noticed a faint smell coming from the folder, and at the same time, she paused in her speech.
She didn't know who to ask for help from for the child. Right now, the only person in the Sheng family who could make decisions was the second young lady of the Sheng family, who was too busy to take care of herself.
"Daddy and Mommy?" the young master continued, picking up where she left off. "They're dead; they can't protect me."
Zhu Qing remained silent for a moment.
Everyone tacitly kept it from Shengfang, but the clever child had already pieced together the truth from their evasive words.
"It doesn't matter," she said dryly, offering a piece of comfort. "Anyway, not all parents will protect their children."
Will your parents protect you?
"Parents? I live in an orphanage."
Liang Qikai watched this scene quietly.
What kind of person can talk about such facts as calmly as if discussing everyday life?
"It's on TV; there are lots of kids living in an orphanage." The young man asked curiously, "I think they're called... orphans?"
Zhu Qing opened the folder.
The driver braked suddenly, and she helped pick up the scattered papers and medical records; perhaps something had accidentally gotten mixed in.
She pushed the folder aside and replied casually, "Hmm."
Sure enough, it was there.
Inside the folder, there was a velvet invitation card that emitted a faint perfume scent.
A sigh came through the receiver, the voice softening slightly: "Qingzai, so you're in such a miserable situation too."
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