Chapter 56 Don't even think about it.
The children were on a shopping spree at the convenience store in Hong Kong, walking briskly and humming nursery rhymes they had just learned in kindergarten music class.
Aside from the HKU Student Union badge pinned to her knitted vest shimmering in the sunlight, her chubby little hands were also wrapped around a newly bought dinosaur egg toy, as if she had just completed a treasure hunt and brought back a priceless treasure.
The brightly colored snacks and toys were packed into transparent plastic bags, bulging and carried by Dr. Cheng, who followed closely behind.
In autumn, the ground was covered with fallen leaves. With each step Cheng Xinglang took, the withered leaves made a soft rustling sound.
The sound immediately caught Fangfang's attention, and the little one turned around to join the leaf-stomping battle.
Children who are constantly jumping and hopping have inexhaustible energy.
Zhu Qing closed the car door and walked over, about to "settle" the shopping bill with Dr. Cheng—
"No need." Cheng Xinglang took a bottle of soda from the plastic bag he was carrying. "Want some?"
The soda in the glass bottle, the condensation on the bottle body, and the cool, refreshing liquid slide down.
Dr. Cheng shook the bottle, and the bubbles inside the glass bottle began to bubble. Fangfang immediately recalled the feeling of drinking soda for the first time, as if popping candy was dancing on her tongue.
"What's with the money? Don't be so formal." The young master of the Sheng family waved his hand. "We're all friends!"
Just now in the car, the baby was waving his little fist, but in the blink of an eye, they're friends again.
At the University of Hong Kong, Cheng Xinglang was naturally in charge of leading the way.
They walked along the path under the sycamore trees, and leaves quietly fell, landing on Fangfang's shoulder. Zhu Qing then reached out and picked them up.
The veins of the leaves are clearly visible in the sunlight.
Shengfang tilted her head and said in a childish voice, "We can take them home to make leaf specimens."
Before she could finish speaking, her niece had already crushed the fallen leaves.
Zhu Qing: ?
"Why didn't you say so sooner..."
"Qingzai, you really have no romance!"
The treasure I picked out for today at the convenience store is a "dinosaur egg".
There are always some strange toys that capture the hearts of kids because of their exquisite packaging. The young master has tasted all kinds of delicious chocolates, and he is extremely disgusted by this inferior flavor made with cheap flavorings. He takes apart one dinosaur after another, while handing the chocolates to his niece.
Zhu Qing couldn't tell whether the chocolate flavor was rich or not; after taking a bite, they all tasted pretty much the same.
“It’s too sweet,” she said.
It blooms in full glory, yet also adopts the demeanor of a younger elder.
The eldest sister and brother-in-law hoped that their child's life would be as sweet as chocolate. This was their wish when they named her "Coco". In Fangfang's opinion, how could his niece eat low-quality chocolate produced on an assembly line? He stuffed all the chocolates in Qingzai's hand into Cheng Xinglang's coat pocket.
"Dr. Cheng, please take this and eat it!"
Cheng Xinglang had arranged to meet Professor Yang from the Department of Psychology at 10:00 AM.
As he entered the building, he glanced at his watch; he had arrived right on time.
The little ears of the thriving child were very sharp; they had already caught the conversation between the niece and the motorcycle driver and understood it all.
I completely understand, this time he's just another informant trying to get information from me!
...
The corridors of the Department of Psychology at the University of Hong Kong were very quiet, which made the sound of their three footsteps sound even more steady and regular.
As you approach Professor Yang's office, the aroma of tea gradually intensifies in the air.
Cheng Xinglang stopped in front of the office with the nameplate "Professor Yang Zhengxiu" on it and lightly knocked on the solid wood door with his knuckles: "Professor Yang."
"Come in," came a warm reply from inside the door.
Pushing open the door, I saw Professor Yang adding water to the teapot, a smile in his eyes as he looked up.
"Xinglang is here?" Professor Yang put down the purple clay teapot, turned his gaze to Zhu Qing beside him, and asked with a smile, "And who is this?"
What followed was a long period of small talk and introductions.
Fangfang pricked up her little ears and heard Dr. Cheng introduce Qingzai as a colleague at the police station, but he never mentioned himself.
Does that mean that a high-ranking officer like Fang Sir isn't his colleague?
Shengfang, with her chubby cheeks puffed out, didn't protest after all. Qingzai had warned her not to cause trouble here, so the little girl had no choice but to behave herself, pouting, and obediently waving her little hand when Professor Yang nodded to her.
Then, Shengfang sat upright on the sofa, like a miniature adult.
When Qingzai was about to start working, he skipped even the slightest leisurely movements, keeping his short legs steady without wobbling at all. What if Qingzai didn't take him out next time? The little guy neatly placed his two little hands on his knees, even temporarily placing the dinosaur egg on the coffee table.
"Professor Yang, actually I came today to learn about Xu Mingyuan's situation."
Professor Yang's hand caressed the cup, his expression momentarily pausing.
Zhu Qing observed his expression.
Clearly, he has been following the news these past two days.
As Professor Yang's most outstanding student, Xu Mingyuan's graduation photo was displayed separately in a prominent place on the bookshelf.
Professor Yang removed the picture frame and gently wiped the glass surface with his sleeve.
The young man in the photo is wearing an academic gown and has a warm smile.
“Mingyuan’s parents died early, and he was raised by his aunt.”
“His aunt is a head nurse. She doesn’t have any children of her own, so Mingyuan is like her own son to her. He is also very filial and visits her often.”
"Which hospital's head nurse?" Zhu Qing keenly grasped this detail that the police had not yet grasped.
Professor Yang put the photo frame back in its original place: "I remember it was the Mingde Mental Health Center, maybe it has already retired."
"Actually, I felt a long time ago that Mingyuan's views were too stubborn."
"For example, when studying punishment mechanisms in criminal psychology, he believes that reforming certain heinous criminals is simply futile. His views are even more extreme. From a medical ethics perspective, this does indeed violate basic principles."
"But he was still young and impetuous at the time, and it's normal for him to have his own ideas. Academic discussions should be inclusive of more different voices."
Professor Yang, as if trying to convince himself, repeated, "He's too young... You can't say he has a problem, nor do you want that—"
He put down his teacup: "I hope he really has some kind of problem."
"However, his research does have some radical aspects."
When asked about the special significance of "Tuesday" for Xu Mingyuan, Professor Yang pondered for a long time and then shook his head.
"I'm not quite sure about that."
Professor Yang was both proud of his star pupil and uneasy about his extreme tendencies.
The mentor's brow relaxed slightly only after the topic of Xu Mingyuan came to an end.
He then inquired about Cheng Xinglang's recent situation.
How is Xinglang doing lately?
"Is everything going well at work...?"
As these casual greetings drifted past, the children began to look around curiously.
If we're talking about offices, this one is even bigger. It can fit two very long sofas, and the coffee table can also be used as a toy table.
In comparison, Dr. Cheng's office and Zhaolin's office seemed somewhat inferior.
The children's ideas were opened up at this moment.
I wonder how big the Chief Inspector's office is? Ching-jai, keep up the good work!
...
Pushing open the door to Professor Yang's office in the Psychology Department, the sound of three people's footsteps echoed dully in the corridor.
After walking a distance, Zhu Qing asked, "Are you two very familiar with each other?"
"Professor Yang knows my parents."
Cheng Xinglang smiled and said, "Professor Yang used to visit my home often."
His voice carried a distant longing, the tone rising slightly at the end, and a warm smile played on his lips.
This is literally, watching him grow up.
When children arrive at a new place, their round eyes scan their surroundings.
At this moment, he was standing on tiptoe, curiously examining the portraits hanging on both sides of the corridor. Zhu Qing's gaze lingered on the text next to the portraits, which was an introduction to the past presidents of the University of Hong Kong.
As we walked through the connecting corridor, my niece noticed that the children in the display kept turning back.
Could a three-year-old be influenced by the intense academic atmosphere of this institution? Actually, in the original story, this was also the minor villain's alma mater. However, now, the gears of fate have quietly turned, and Sheng's ideals have been magnified infinitely. He yearns for police academy, hoping that one day he can become a real, glorious policeman.
They walked down the spiral staircase and through a medical corridor called "The Benevolence of Healers".
The glass display walls in the corridor were spotless, wiped clean by the school staff, and Zhu Qing slowed her pace.
This is a display board specially set up by the school to commemorate medical professionals who have passed away in recent years.
Zhu Qing's gaze swept over the photo of the honorary professor of neurosurgery, lingered for a moment, and then she suddenly turned her head.
"Doesn't it look a bit like my father?" He said casually, raising his eyebrows slightly and smiling, "Just not as handsome as me."
On the way there, Zhu Qing heard Cheng Xinglang mention that he had been hypnotized by Xu Mingyuan.
However, the hypnosis was unsuccessful. She didn't know if Xu Mingyuan had ever selected male patients as his prey, but it was clear that Dr. Cheng was definitely not one of them. No matter what pain he had carried in the past, Cheng Xinglang was always positive, strong, and always growing towards the sunlight.
Zhu Qing lowered her eyes, recalling the yellowed Hong Kong newspaper in her drawer.
At the completion ceremony of the hillside mansion, her parents were pictured together in the Sheng family portrait. At that time, newspapers had to be sealed in the archives as evidence, so she searched for them at the flea market, found the newspaper from that year and that day, and bought it. It was also because of this that when searching for old reports about the Cheng family murder case, Zhu Qing was able to easily go directly to Huang's Newsstand.
Zhu Qing had seen Sheng Peirong before; she was still unconscious, but at least she was still alive.
She could touch her mother's pale but warm hand and read those convoluted and boring financial news reports beside her mother.
However, Father...
Zhu Qing could only piece together an image of him from the blurry photo in the Hong Kong newspaper.
He was a father who deeply loved his daughter and was still searching for her until the very last moment of his life.
Now his child has finally returned home, but the father and daughter are separated by death.
Unfortunately, it was many years too late, and the family was unable to reunite.
Zhu Qing remained silent, and even the little boy Fangfang was unusually quiet.
He is too young. Even if he knows what the word "death" represents, he doesn't really understand its true meaning.
Perhaps one day, when Shengfang grows up, he will stare blankly at the photos left by his parents, repeatedly recalling the memories that his parents gave him when they were still alive.
But he was still confused, only knowing that Qingzai had suddenly become very sad and that his stomach was growling with hunger.
"Qingzi." Sheng Fang tugged at Zhu Qing's clothes, her voice soft and sweet.
"Let's go eat."
They had lunch at the University of Hong Kong's canteen.
Curry fish balls are Fangfang's favorite. He mixes the fish balls and curry sauce into his rice, his little face pressed against the bowl, his nose glistening with sauce, making him look like a little cat. Seeing how much the little guy was enjoying his meal, Zhu Qing's initially heavy mood gradually lightened, and she unknowingly ate half a bowl more rice than usual.
After getting into the car, Cheng Xinglang placed his long, slender fingers on the steering wheel.
"Mingde Spiritual Rehabilitation Center?"
The next stop is the Mingde Spiritual Rehabilitation Center.
"You know our Qingzai so well!" Fangfang poked her little head out from the back seat. "Let's go!"
The car stopped in front of the white building of the Mingde Mental Health Center.
Cheng Xinglang turned off the engine, but his fingertips remained on the steering wheel, showing no intention of unfastening his seatbelt.
On this trip, Cheng Xinglang acted entirely as the driver.
"I won't go."
As Zhu Qing stepped into the hospital, the smell of disinfection wafted past her nose, and she belatedly remembered the case files she had retrieved.
The mentally ill patient who killed Cheng Xinglang's parents in the Cheng family case escaped from this hospital.
Cheng Xinglang cared more about his family's case than anyone else.
Over the years, he must have stood in front of this white building countless times, watching medical staff come and go, but he still couldn't find a reasonable explanation for what happened that night.
Zhu Qing subconsciously turned around and saw through the glass door that his car was still parked in the same spot.
But it has already restarted, and the taillights are on.
He had just said goodbye to them.
"Wow." Fangfang wrinkled her little nose and shook her head. "This driver is so unprofessional."
"You pay him a salary?" Zhu Qing laughed and flicked his nose. "And he's a driver, huh?"
...
I returned to Yau Ma Tei Police Station at 3 p.m.
Not too early, not too late, just in time for the children's afternoon tea. Mo Zhenbang was treating, and the plastic bags in the tea restaurant waiter's hands made a "clattering" sound.
"Bingji is here! Who ordered the food?" the waiter shouted.
Inspector Mo is always generous, and even when a case is still unresolved, he never forgets to reward his subordinates. He always says that you need to be well-fed to have the energy to work, but in reality, those who need to work right now don't have time to eat. They are buried in piles of documents and can't spare the time.
Fangfang held one egg tart in her left hand and another in her right, her lips smeared with pastry, her eyes squinting with a satisfied expression.
For Sheng Hua, this was simply the perfect weekend.
The days spent with Qingzai flew by, much more interesting than queuing up with boring kids to play on the slide in kindergarten!
Back in Major Crimes Unit B, Fang Fang once again sees herself as an adult.
He slumped in his office chair, watching his colleagues busy at work.
“We found that Xu Mingyuan’s aunt has indeed retired and now lives in that old public nursing home in Kowloon.”
"I heard from her former colleagues at the hospital that she now has Alzheimer's disease."
“My aunt took care of Xu Mingyuan with all her heart back then. Over the years, she did have opportunities to start her own family, but to put it bluntly… she was carrying a ‘little burden’ with her, which was quite a burden in those days. Several times she was about to get married, but it never happened. After breaking up with her last boyfriend, she never dated again and raised Xu Mingyuan on her own.”
At this point, Haozai suddenly fell silent and glanced at the young master of the Sheng family.
Fortunately, he was overthinking it; the little boy didn't care about the word "burden" at all. It had nothing to do with him; he was the uncle.
“I checked out the Kowloon Sanatorium, and the environment is quite basic. Three people share a room, and the caregivers simply can’t take good care of her. Logically speaking, with Xu Mingyuan’s current financial situation, he could send his aunt to a better sanatorium with one-on-one care.”
"It really doesn't make sense. A successful psychologist would let his aunt, who raised him with such hardship, live in such a poor place..."
"Do you think it's possible... that Xu Mingyuan and his aunt are actually quite distant?"
The sound of flipping through documents echoed in the office.
"You mean, Xu Mingyuan's 'filial piety' is just a facade for outsiders? But that doesn't make sense, does it? Who is he putting on this show for?"
"Let's go to the nursing home first; maybe the old lady can provide some clues."
Mo Zhenbang looked around and began assigning tasks.
The little boy slid off the swivel chair with a "thud," only to find that Qingzai was still sitting in the same spot, leisurely poking open a cup of iced milk tea with a straw.
Zhu Qing opened her notebook and began to organize the information she had obtained from Professor Yang that morning.
She had printed out all of Xu Mingyuan's research papers completed in recent years. When she returned from the audiovisual room, she saw Shengfang lying on her workstation, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
Recently, at kindergarten, Shengfang has developed a good habit of taking a nap every day.
The afternoon sun was shining brightly. The baby was full and satisfied. He crossed his two arms, which were like lotus roots, and pressed his chubby cheeks against them, nodding his little head.
"I'll call Aunt Ping," Zhu Qing asked softly. "Should I pick you up and take you home first?"
Sheng Fang yawned slightly, pointed in the direction of Weng Zhaolin's office, and said with a heavy sleepiness in her voice, "Go there."
In Mr. Weng's office, there is a comfortable single sofa.
A three-year-old is just a tiny little thing, so curling up on it, he can sleep soundly.
But every time Weng Zhaolin looked up, he could see the child.
The young people in Group B are becoming increasingly outrageous. Bringing their children to work is one thing, but now they're blatantly stuffing them into the senior inspector's office.
What kind of behavior is this?
The child, who was fast asleep on the single sofa, rolled over and almost fell off.
Weng Zhaolin got up, moved a chair, and placed it against the edge of the sofa.
"Just this once," he muttered to himself, with an air of authority. "And this is the last time."
...
As evening fell, twilight descended outside the blinds.
Hao-zai and Xiao-sun returned from the Kowloon Sanatorium, exhausted.
Haozai casually tossed the police car keys onto the table, grabbed the water cup from his workstation, and gulped down half a cup of water.
"I met Xu Mingyuan's aunt."
“The symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease are definitely not mild. She speaks incoherently, sometimes saying that Yuan is her biological son, and other times saying that she is waiting for her father to pick her up from school at the school gate... You can’t get any useful information out of her at all.”
"Xu Mingyuan is truly filial. The nurse told me that he visits his aunt every week and always brings her favorite Yuen Long wife cakes. He even drives all the way to the old Yuen Long shop to buy them. You could say it's just for show once or twice, but he does it every week for three whole years. How many people can do that?"
At this point, Haozai paused for a moment, teasingly asking, "Guess what day of the week it is?"
"Since you've said that, it must be Tuesday."
"That's right, it's Tuesday. Xu Mingyuan visits his aunt every Tuesday, could there be some special significance to that?"
"Of course, maybe they really do have a good relationship."
"But suppose his relationship with his aunt isn't actually as good as it seems, could Tuesdays have been an unpleasant day for him since he was very young? For example, could his aunt punish him on Tuesdays or—"
"In the words of their psychology experts, this is called a 'trigger point for psychological trauma'."
Before he could finish speaking, Liang Qikai pushed open the door with a sullen face and slammed a magazine heavily on the table.
"What kind of magazine is this? I've never even heard of it. What kind of unscrupulous media outlet is making up news again?"
“The media spoke up for Xu Mingyuan, saying that our handling of the case was too rough and damaged the reputation of a famous doctor.”
"I don't know where this third-rate paparazzi came from, but they put on a show of neutrality and wrote a report to speak up for this 'excellent' psychologist."
“Look here, the reporter even collected voices from Xu Mingyuan’s patients.”
“As Inspector Ong had mentioned long ago, public opinion would definitely side with the doctor.”
The headline of the report read—
Renowned psychologist subjected to improper police investigation
Zeng Yongshan took the magazine, looked at the bolded text, and read it aloud with a frown.
"Dr. Xu saved me. Other doctors only prescribe medicine, but he taught me how to rebuild my self-confidence. I am very grateful to Dr. Xu for letting me rediscover the beauty of being alive."
“I’ve seen a psychologist for ten years, and only Dr. Xu was willing to spend an extra hour each week listening to my family conflicts. Those complaints were only truly released the moment they were spoken.”
"After my father turned seventy, he always complained that he was useless. At first, we children thought he was just whining. We blamed him for causing us trouble, but it was true that his mental state was getting worse and worse... until he met Dr. Xu. The time I went to pick up my father, I heard Dr. Xu call him 'Teacher Chen'. My father was an excellent physics teacher before he retired, and no one had called him that for more than ten years. Dr. Xu always does that and is very dedicated to every patient."
Zeng Yongshan can now understand why even the usually good-tempered Inspector Liang would enter the office with a stern face.
At this moment, she casually tossed the magazine back onto the table.
"Meeting!" Mo Zhenbang's voice came from the end of the corridor.
Everyone almost forgot that Ah Tou had reminded them to tidy up the meeting room ten minutes earlier.
The whiteboard in the meeting room was covered with photos of the victims.
The officers from Major Crimes Unit B below looked up, their gazes sweeping over each of the faces.
The first victim, listed in chronological order, was Wang Yingtong.
The bride in the photo has exquisite makeup, but it can't hide the timidity in her eyes. She is a young woman who is severely lacking in love, who entered into marriage without hesitation, but who despises herself because she cannot have children.
The second victim was Ding Panxiang.
This photo was taken when she was applying for a health certificate while working at a food factory. Her eyes are lifeless, and she's struggling to stare at the camera. She works tirelessly because her intellectually disabled son is waiting for her at home. According to the investigation, after her husband's death, Ding Panxiang lived alone with her son. Every day, she would prepare lunch and dinner in advance and lock her son at home when she left for work. Perhaps this still wasn't safe enough, but she had no other choice.
"She and her husband were in a free-love relationship and got married. The neighbors all said that Ding Panxiang was happy back then. The young couple saved up to buy their first radio and listened to the radio every night to fall asleep."
Even after their son was born and a medical accident occurred during childbirth, she and her husband never complained. They took good care of the child together, and the child was always dressed neatly and cleanly, looking no different from any other child.
"Unfortunately, the good times didn't last long. After her husband passed away unexpectedly, the family collapsed. She raised her intellectually disabled son alone for more than ten years. She finally made it to adulthood, only to find that this was the most desperate time. Her adult son needed more care, and this burden could never be lifted."
"She specifically rented a place to burn charcoal because she couldn't bear to leave her home; after all, it held many fond memories. But seriously... the landlord is really unlucky; who can she complain to?"
The third victim was Deng Qiaorong.
This woman with a simple ponytail smiles in a photo of herself working at a tea stall, with a ballpoint pen for taking orders tucked into her apron pocket.
As the eldest daughter in her family, Deng Qiaorong dedicated everything to the family and always thought of others.
Ultimately, her suicide by hanging in her dormitory was probably the biggest trouble she caused others.
"I contacted Afen, Deng Qiaorong's old colleague at the tea stall. Afen said that Deng Qiaorong said something back then that she still remembers vividly."
"Deng Qiaorong said that she used to think that she had given everything and had nothing left, so her family should love her more. But later, Deng Qiaorong suddenly told Afen that she had nothing, so why should others love her? Love is conditional."
The fourth victim was You Minmin.
You Minmin, who always hid in the corner, was seen by others as a dull speck of dust, insignificant. But in the diary she left behind, the quiet joys and sorrows of this girl were hidden.
The police officers discussed the matter, their brows furrowing deeper into their expressions.
"Xu Mingyuan's psychological suggestion was methodical. You Minmin was most concerned about her brother's existence, so he specifically targeted that aspect."
“A radio listener called in, she framed her brother… This is a death tailor-made for You Minmin.”
"Ding Panxiang firmly believes that death is the only relief, Deng Qiaorong believes that love requires a price, and then there's Wang Yingtong—"
"He is too good at manipulating people's hearts. Whether it is Wang Yingtong, Ding Panxiang or Deng Qiaorong... Xu Mingyuan completely grasped their sore spots."
The discussion in the conference room was still going on when suddenly, Xu Jiale pushed open the door and rushed in.
He waved a document vigorously in his hand: "Found it! We've finally found the middleman who sold the patient list!"
...
Mo Zhenbang led a team to search Xu Mingyuan's psychological clinic.
At the time, he remained remarkably calm and composed, admitting that he had provided free psychological treatment to these four patients. He said that a doctor's heart should be compassionate, and that treatment should outweigh profit.
Upon hearing the news of the deaths of Wang Yingtong, Ding Panxiang, and Deng Qiaorong, Xu Mingyuan's brows furrowed precisely at that moment, a hint of shock flashing in his eyes behind his glasses. He said he was unaware of it. While regrettable, it wasn't unexpected; it's all too common for patients with severe depression to ultimately choose suicide.
Meanwhile, Xu Mingyuan stated that he was unaware that they had been in contact with a healing society, and that their visit to his psychological clinic was merely a coincidence.
Since there's no way to verify it now that he's dead, he can make up whatever he wants.
As for the recorded phone call with Zhu Qing, Xu Mingyuan also had his own reasonable explanation.
He explained that the mental health association's membership information is shared, and he didn't remember seeing this "single mother's" number anywhere before; he only called to help her. Finally, hadn't he reminded her to regularly participate in the parent-child activities at the therapy sessions?
These claims were not foolproof, but the police were unable to find any substantial evidence.
Now, the mole within the healing society has finally been arrested.
The trembling accountant confessed that Xu Mingyuan would give her a sum of cash every month in exchange for the latest member list.
Police cars roared to a stop in front of Xu Mingyuan Clinic in Central.
When the police pushed open the door to the clinic, Xu Mingyuan was standing with his back to the door in front of the filing cabinet, about to put something away.
Hearing the noise, his shoulders stiffened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.
When Uncle Li presented the search warrant, Xu Mingyuan was holding a file in his hand.
He moved with composure, placing the file into the cabinet.
However, the next second, the file was taken away by a police officer.
Xu Mingyuan's eyes narrowed, his gaze following the file.
That was a psychological assessment.
The edges of the paper have creases, as if it has been frequently read.
Xu Mingyuan's face, which was always adorned with a gentle smile, turned icy.
Meanwhile, Zhu Qing paced back and forth in the police station.
She didn't know when it started, but this case deeply tugged at her heartstrings.
Footsteps sounded, and she noticed that Mo Sir was coming out of Weng Zhaolin's office.
Zhu Qing was so busy that she was dizzy and disoriented. Only then did she remember that her uncle had come to the police station with her.
"Inspector Mo," Zhu Qing asked, "Is Fangfang awake?"
Mo Zhenbang coughed lightly and gestured mysteriously toward Inspector Weng's office: "Friendly talks."
Right now, Shengfang is sitting on the sofa, her hair sticking up like a Teletubby.
He stretched and looked at Inspector Weng.
Just now, he was half asleep when he overheard Mo Zhenbang and Zhao Lin's conversation.
At that time, Sheng Fang heard Mo Sir pleading and arguing—
This work has been incredibly demanding. The "ghost call" case has uncovered even more hidden stories. Just contacting and visiting each of the 470 female members of the healing society is already a huge workload. And now, just to be on the safe side, everyone is continuing to contact male members as well.
Inspector Mo suggested that the activities at Repulse Bay Villa could be put back on the agenda.
At that time, Weng Zhaolin said—
"It's normal for them to be tired; taxpayers support them!"
The baby was so angry that he woke up immediately.
Listen to what John is saying!
Now that Mo Zhenbang is gone, Weng Zhaolin is pouring out his grievances.
"Am I not working hard?"
"Why am I the only one who needs to be understanding of their difficulties? Why don't they try to be understanding of me?"
"When I run into a police superintendent at the restaurant in the morning, I always try to avoid him!"
Fangfang: "That's what I have to say to you, John."
He was really looking forward to his weekend trip to Repulse Bay.
The cancellation left Fangfang and all her colleagues as disappointed. As everyone's uncle, Shengfang, in his old-fashioned manner, tried to reason with Zhaolin, presenting the facts and explaining the situation.
John only likes to hear nice things.
He stared at Shengfang in disbelief. Was this still the same thoughtful child from last time?
Weng Zhaolin said irritably, "Does the Peninsula Hotel's private chef even know how much it costs? Are you treating us?"
"Of course not," the young master said earnestly. "I'm a rich man—"
He paused, then wagged his index finger and added, "Not a sucker."
When Zhu Qing knocked on the office door and entered, she saw Weng Sir and Sheng Fang sitting on opposite sides, back to back.
They were throwing a tantrum and neither of them was talking to the other.
They confronted each other with their backs to each other.
Zhu Qing: ...
...
Saturday passed in the blink of an eye, and the investigation into the case continues.
Shengfang already knows that Qingzai will definitely be working overtime until very late this Sunday.
His niece had already prepared him for this before he left home that morning.
She said there was no need to wait for her for dinner tonight.
"Aunt Ping, where are we going to play?" Fangfang spread her little hands and feet out, lying on the floor in a starfish shape.
After lying down for a while, he turned over and lay face down, his little face pressed against the floor.
It's already autumn, and lying on the floor would definitely make him catch a cold, but the child, with his hot constitution, is completely oblivious. Aunt Ping, being concerned, simply laid out several fluffy quilts on the floor, so that the young master wouldn't get cold while rolling around on the floor, nor would he feel the hard surface.
It's like a soft playground.
However, it makes the house look very messy and is really unsightly.
"Why don't we go out and buy a carpet?" Aunt Ping suggested.
Fangfang pouted her little mouth.
Buying a rug doesn't sound like a fun weekend activity.
But seeing Aunt Ping's expectant eyes, he reluctantly nodded.
"Alright."
The uncle and nephew split up into two groups.
Fangfang was led by Aunt Ping to the mall to buy carpets, while Qingzai and her colleagues engaged in a new round of wits and courage with criminals at the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
The interrogation room was brightly lit.
Xu Mingyuan had been detained for more than eighteen hours, but his expression remained unchanged, as if he were providing the most professional psychological treatment, with a smile on his lips.
“Those doctors in healing societies can’t even do the most basic trauma intervention well. I just want to help them better.”
"I don't understand why you emphasize female patients. Both men and women can encounter psychological problems to varying degrees, can't they?"
Zeng Yongshan pushed a stack of photos in front of him: "Then how do you explain these cases of induced suicide?"
Xu Mingyuan's expression remained unchanged as he leaned back in his chair.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about. Madam, you have to be responsible for your words, or I can sue you for defamation."
"My lawyer should be on his way."
In the observation room behind the one-way glass, the police observed every subtle expression on Xu Mingyuan's face.
"What a tough nut to crack." Haozi cursed through gritted teeth, unwrapped a mint, popped it into his mouth, crumpled the wrapper into a ball, and smashed it against the glass.
The officers revisited the files that Xu Mingyuan had tried to hide at the mental health clinic.
Song Sijia, 25 years old.
Deaf-mute people can read lips, but they cannot read and communicate with others using sign language.
At the age of five, she became deaf and mute due to a high fever, and her impoverished family refused to buy her a hearing aid. Even when she reached school age, they did not send her to school.
Now, Song Sijia lives alone in a subdivided flat and makes a living on the meager income from her book stall at the night market.
"No way, does Xu Mingyuan even know sign language?"
"At the psychological clinic, he hurriedly put away the files, could it be that this girl..."
...
Of the 470 female members of the healing society, 19 have not yet been contacted.
Song Sijia was one of them.
As a deaf-mute person, she left no contact number, and the police were unable to communicate with her through conventional means.
The front desk nurse's testimony was vague, and the medical records were flawless.
"There are so many night markets in Hong Kong, Temple Street, Ladies' Market, Mong Kok Night Market... who knows where she actually sets up her stall!"
"And then there are these subdivided flats. There are so many subdivided flats in all of Hong Kong, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Besides, we don't even know what she looks like, we only know her name, how are we supposed to find her?"
As police officers, they naturally had to seek justice for the deceased.
But those who are alive—
Perhaps it had long been Xu Mingyuan's target.
"Song Sijia is very likely to be his next prey."
"It's Sunday today, and it'll be past midnight in a few hours. Based on the pattern of the previous cases..."
Several officers said in unison: "Tuesday!"
“That’s right. If something happens to Song Sijia on Tuesday…we only have less than forty-eight hours left.”
They had no time to think about what special meaning "Tuesday" actually had.
We must race against time and save lives first.
At 9 p.m., the police officers quickly split into groups and set off for various night markets in Hong Kong.
Zhu Qing: "I need to go home first."
According to the survey data, Song Sijia, a deaf-mute girl, is illiterate and can only communicate with others by reading lips and using sign language.
Zhu Qing suddenly remembered that she had been given a tool kit during her police academy training, and the blue-covered "Police Sign Language Quick Reference Manual" was now lying quietly in her drawer.
Zhu Qing hurried home and quietly pushed open the door.
Aunt Ping's room door was tightly closed, and Fangfang's room was unusually quiet; she must have been asleep.
She tiptoed into her room and opened a drawer.
When Zhu Qing found the sign language communication guide, she felt relieved and noticed the computer mouse that she had hidden out of the corner of her eye.
It was agreed that Shengfang would be allowed to play Monopoly 3 every weekend, and he even bargained for an extra hour.
As a result, he forgot about it when the weekend came.
I don't know if Fangfang is a smart baby or a silly little baby.
Zhu Qing gently closed the drawer.
The moment I turned to leave—
"Bang!"
A soft, small figure collapsed to the ground.
Fangfang bumped her head on the door.
What are you doing here?
The kids probably perked up their ears and waited by the bedroom door until they heard her come home.
The child had somehow developed sophisticated tracking and counter-tracking skills. Whenever he noticed his niece sneaking in, he would be ready to block her escape route.
Upon the impact, Fangfang covered her forehead with both of her little hands.
Zhu Qing quickly cupped his little face and examined him carefully.
I don't think I used much force when I opened the door.
"Are you alright?" Zhu Qing teased him, holding up two fingers, "to see if your head is damaged."
"Blooming, what does one plus one equal?"
Fangfang pursed her lips; after not seeing each other for a day, Qingzai was actually planning to sneak away.
Feeling wronged and resentful, she couldn't possibly shake off the officer.
Stick with her!
I waved two fingers in front of him for a long time.
Fangfang blinked her eyes, and before she knew it, she was staring with her eyes crossed.
Are you alright? Can't answer?
Seeing that the little one was silent and looked a bit silly, Zhu Qing was stunned for a moment.
She said seriously, "Don't you know?"
"Blooming, what does one plus one equal?"
The baby held up four short fingers: "Three? Qingzai."
Zhu Qing squinted her eyes: "Go to sleep."
Fangfang looked confused.
Are adults that smart?
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