Chapter 62 "I'm taking Qingzai to work overtime."
Zhu Qing fastened her seatbelt in the passenger seat, the metal buckle making a crisp "click" sound.
When riding in Mo Sir's car, you should sit in the front passenger seat. This is what Tsang Wing-shan taught me; you can't treat your boss like a driver.
Upon hearing these words, memories instantly flooded Zhu Qing's mind. She vaguely remembered sitting in the back seat of Weng Zhaolin's car with Fangfang, wondering if they mistook Weng for his driver.
The elders really know how to judge people; Fangfang said it long ago—
Zhaolin is truly a very shrewd person.
"Inspector Mo," Cheng Xinglang asked from the back seat, "Where is the scene?"
“At the Kwun Tong garbage station, an elderly woman who was collecting garbage found a black plastic bag.” Mo Zhenbang gripped the steering wheel. “The plastic bag wasn’t knotted, and she saw it immediately. She was quite frightened.”
What was initially thought to be just a family dispute, with the older cousin suddenly appearing out of nowhere looking for her younger cousin, meant the police simply had to follow procedure. With so many cases like this, people had lost all interest in discussing it.
Unexpectedly, a severed toe has now appeared, wrapped in yellow paper with the missing person's birth date and time written on it. The calligraphy is neat and upright, making it look more like a ritual.
Since the You Minmin case was closed, the team had been peaceful for nearly twenty days. Unexpectedly, the song "Moonlight" broke the tranquility.
“The day before yesterday, Qi Kai said he was too idle lately.” Mo Zhenbang shook his head. “Who knew that no sooner had he said that than Rong Zimei came to report the case, and today they found a severed finger.”
Zhu Qing thought, if she let it go, he would definitely say that she was a jinx.
She looked up, her gaze passing through the windshield, and saw Liang Qikai standing by the roadside not far away. Her brow furrowed.
“Inspector Liang,” Zhu Qing pointed.
"You really can't talk about people during the day," Mo Zhenbang joked.
Inspector Mo pulled the car over to the side of the road. Liang Qikai leaned down to see who was inside and immediately opened the door. When he saw Dr. Cheng, he nodded politely and sat down at a proper distance.
“Applying for an official vehicle at this hour still requires approval,” Liang Qikai laughed. “I was just about to hail a taxi to the site when I unexpectedly ran into you guys, so I can hitch a ride.”
His voice was as gentle as ever.
Having been transferred to the CID for several months, Liang Qikai had already become one with the team. At this moment, he naturally adjusted the atmosphere in the car and was about to strike up a conversation with Zhu Qing when he saw her suddenly turn her head.
Liang Qikai's thoughts drifted back to his police academy days.
Back then, this junior was a constant topic of conversation in the boys' dormitory.
But Liang Qikai always believed that he and they cared about different things. He wasn't so materialistic; what he truly cared about was—
Actually, it was that lonely figure on the training field.
He recognized her immediately when they met again in the CID office a few months ago.
After learning about her connection to the Sheng family's skeletal remains case and her twenty years of wandering, the vague feelings he once had gradually transformed into more complex emotions. Yet, to this day, they remain merely colleagues.
Their relationship—
She wasn't even as close to Hao Zai and Uncle Li as she was to Hao Zai and Uncle Li.
The afterglow of the setting sun shone through the car window, casting a soft, warm glow on Zhu Qing's profile.
This is different from when Liang Qikai first met her.
"Dr. Cheng, what is the address of the car rental shop?"
Zhu Qing's voice pulled Liang Qikai back to reality.
After her car broke down, Cheng Xinglang contacted a familiar car dealership to tow it away.
"I'll drive over for you tomorrow since it's on my way." Cheng Xinglang's tone was casual.
Liang Qikai looked out the window, his ears catching the conversation behind him.
He remembered that he had once brought Zhu Qing glowing stars, and soon he received cash from her.
He assumed she would erect such a barrier around everyone, until he caught a glimpse of her giving Cheng Xinglang a natural nod.
"Thank you for your help," Zhu Qing said. "I'll treat you to tea another day."
Cheng Xinglang chuckled: "You learned those polite phrases from that brat?"
They all knew it was just a polite remark; there was no way Zhu Qing would ever stand at the door of the forensic department office and invite Dr. Cheng for tea.
But Liang Qikai didn't expect that they had become so familiar with each other that they could tease each other.
Liang Qikai's eyes dimmed; this was his last chance.
He was always gentle and easygoing, but his inherent pride wouldn't allow him to continue pursuing things in vain.
At this moment, Liang Qikai finally let go and sighed softly.
...
When the group arrived at the Kwun Tong back alley garbage station, it was already getting dark, but the streetlights were not yet fully lit.
Zeng Yongshan stood at the corner of the alley, her fingers pressed tightly against the tip of her nose, her brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly.
She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The heat and aroma wafting from the restaurant mixed with the smell of the garbage dump, hitting her head and making her vision go black.
"Mr. Mo," she called out in a hoarse voice.
Mo Zhenbang strode over: "What's going on?"
Deep in the alley, Haozai was leaning against the wall, dry heaving.
“Uncle Li, my mom thinks it’s glamorous for me to be a detective,” he said. “If she knew I was rummaging through the swill in restaurants, she would cry herself to death.”
Uncle Li was hanging his police badge around his neck when he heard this and tapped him on the head with the badge: "Stop talking nonsense and hurry up and find it."
As soon as he finished speaking, seeing the young man's pale face, he sighed and took out a new mask from his pocket.
"Here, wear two layers."
At this moment, Xu Jiale was taking a statement from the aunt who was collecting garbage.
"Auntie, do you come to this alley to collect trash every day?"
The aunt nodded hurriedly, her words lacking focus: "There are two tea restaurants, a roast meat shop, and... the kitchen helper at the restaurant is very kind. Seeing that I'm old, he always saves food for me. It's all freshly made, not leftovers from others."
"Auntie, how did you find out about the missing toe?"
"I had just finished folding the empty lunch boxes and was about to rummage through the nearby trash pile when I suddenly saw a plastic bag."
"The plastic bag wasn't tied up; there was a red string binding yellow paper. I thought it was a red envelope, so I pulled it open—"
"Then the toe rolled out!"
The aunt's screams nearly shook the entire back alley, and even the kitchen helper at the neighboring tea restaurant came out to see what was going on, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Ah-Jie, a kitchen helper at the tea restaurant, recalled what happened back then.
“At first I thought it was a pig bone… but Aunt Zhong said that she has lived most of her life and she can’t tell the difference between pig bones and human bones.” A-Jie’s gaze unconsciously drifted toward the pile of garbage. “When I got closer, I saw that the toe was wrapped in yellow paper and tightly bound with red thread, just like… just like a ritual performed on TV.”
"None of us touched that bag. At most, Aunt Zhong used a hook—who would dare touch it?"
Dr. Cheng had already put on rubber gloves and carefully pried open the black plastic bag with tweezers.
This is a pale toe with a clean cut, wrapped with an extremely thin red thread, to which a strip of yellow paper is tied.
Cheng Xinglang put the note and the red thread into the evidence bag respectively.
The severed toe was covered with a layer of dark red, gelatinous substance. Dr. Cheng used tweezers to pick up the sticky substance.
Zhu Qing bent down to examine it: "The incision is so clean, but the surface is covered in blood and flesh?"
“It’s not natural blood,” Cheng Xinglang said in a low voice. “It could be chicken blood or pig blood.”
"What a terrible thing! Wrapping one's birth date and time in animal blood will prevent the vengeful spirits from finding their enemies!" The aunt gasped. "It's true! I heard this when I was a child. Doing this will prevent the evil spirits from coming to claim your life!"
“Auntie,” Uncle Li interrupted sharply, “the police don’t talk about these things when handling cases.”
"The incision is very smooth," Cheng Xinglang continued, "like cutting it off in one go with a professional scalpel or bone saw."
Zeng Yongshan's gaze fell on the bottom of the plastic bag.
It was a newspaper soaked in blood, the date still faintly visible.
“I remember the missing person information that my cousin registered…” She recalled for a moment, then immediately looked at the yellow paper that had been put into the evidence bag, “It’s this date, Kuang Xiaoyan’s birth date.”
"It's from the same day's newspaper."
"The date in the newspaper and the birth date on the yellow paper are very indicative."
"Inspector Mok," Leung Kei-kai asked, "could it be a dismemberment case?"
After these words were spoken, the alley seemed to fall even quieter.
Mo Zhenbang did not answer immediately, but turned to Cheng Xinglang, who was packing up his equipment.
"Can you determine whether it was cut before death or after death?"
"Currently, we only have this toe fragment, and no other body parts for reference." Cheng Xinglang paused, his tone cautious. "Judging from the muscle tissue at the incision site, there is a slight contraction reaction, which may be caused by the cutting off shortly after death."
Cheng Xinglang handed the evidence to his assistant, and as he took off his gloves, his eyes briefly met Zhu Qing's.
They both read the same doubt in each other's eyes; this was no simple case.
Mo Zhenbang was silent for a moment, then raised his voice.
"Listen up, everyone. Turn the garbage station over again, and thoroughly search the nearby alleys as well."
"Expand the search area and check if anyone in the vicinity has seen any suspicious persons."
Haozai said helplessly, "Mr. Mo, this is Kwun Tong. Every day, there are at least 800 to 1,000 people coming and going to throw away garbage."
The night grew even darker.
Time passed amidst the nauseating smell of rancid swill at the garbage dump.
The officers searched through garbage bags and cardboard boxes, all with the same goal.
Other body parts.
Everyone had the same question on their minds: Was this just the beginning?
If it really is Kwong Siu-yin, if it really is a dismemberment case—
In the days to come, will more body parts appear in every corner of the city?
...
Even if they are homeless, Shengfang children will always want to go home.
He's not just a baby, he's a rich baby, so safety is definitely the top priority, and he can't run around.
What should I do if I get kidnapped?
"After all, we don't have bodyguards to protect the young master right now," Aunt Ping said with a smile.
Fangfang stretched out her short index finger, swaying it from side to side, revealing a mysterious little expression.
He'd seen plenty of bodyguards, but none were as imposing as Qingzai. They looked strong, but it was all just for show; they could only fool Daddy.
Only Ching-jai could truly conquer him.
She's a detective who can fly! Putting everything else aside, just the way the kids swarm around her in the afternoon, asking for photos, is enough to relive for days.
My niece is amazing; her uncle is so proud.
For such a long time, Fangfang has been sticking to Zhu Qing every day, and they've gotten used to it.
Who knew that a new case would suddenly appear, and he became a bored man again, complaining about how boring he was in every corner of the house.
He wandered around the dining table, ate the sumptuous dinner prepared by Aunt Ping, then wandered around the terrace, drew on the whiteboard with a marker, and then wandered around the children's room, where he suddenly decided to tear off the glow-in-the-dark star stickers.
The wall covered in star stickers was so bright that every time he closed his eyes at night, he felt like the stars were putting on a concert next to him, it was so dazzling.
Finally, Shengfang wandered into her niece's room and sat in front of the computer.
"I'm going to play games now!"
"Young master, Qingqing said that you can only play on weekends."
The young master's reasoning was quite sound: ever since Qingzai set this rule, he had completely forgotten about it and had never played on the computer again.
Even though it's not the weekend, my niece would still agree to let him make up for it if she were home.
Aunt Ping couldn't argue with him. She watched as the child climbed onto the chair and pressed the power button, only able to glance at the clock to remember the time. According to the old rule, he should look into the distance to rest his eyes after half an hour of play, but the problem was it was already late. He could only play until 9:30 at the latest, after which the child had to go to sleep.
Aunt Ping has worked as a maid in the Sheng family for twenty-three years. In the past, she only needed to focus on preparing three meals a day. Now, although she only has two people to take care of, she is more dedicated than ever before.
She never imagined she would overstep her bounds like this, nagging and fussing over her employer's young master, reminding him to put on more clothes and watching him brush his teeth.
Since Qingqing wasn't home, these things inevitably fell to her.
Just after the kindergarten's performance ended, a new case came to the police station. Aunt Ping knew that Zhu Qing would likely have to work overtime again in the coming days.
Aunt Ping couldn't help with the complicated procedures and medical coordination involved in sending Sheng Peirong abroad for surgery. But she did everything she could, such as going to the ward every day to help the young lady turn over and telling her about Qingqing's recent condition.
Just like these past few months.
Aunt Ping would adjust the IV drip while whispering recent events in the young lady's ear. Zhu Qing had solved another major case and received a personal commendation from the Chief Superintendent. She seemed to have made some friends, even having long phone conversations with her female colleagues at the police station…
Whenever Zhu Qing's experiences at the police station are mentioned, Aunt Ping's eyes light up with an unstoppable smile.
She believes that Sheng Peirong will definitely be even more proud of her daughter.
"Press two keys before drawing a card—" Sheng Fang knelt on the chair, her small hands laboriously pressing the keyboard.
The character on screen indeed escaped imprisonment.
Fangfang opened her eyes wide.
Dr. Cheng was right; pressing two buttons really can skip one "misfortune"!
The little girl jumped up from her chair and ran to the living room.
"bite".
The crisp sound of the elevator arriving rang out.
As Zhu Qing stepped out of the elevator, she stretched and then subconsciously sniffed her palms.
They spent several hours at the garbage dump, initially finding it unbearable, but eventually getting used to the smell. Now, their sense of smell seems to still be impaired.
A new case has come in, and we have to start working on it all over again.
She was playing at the amusement park yesterday...
Zhu Qing used the key to open the door.
Just then, a lively, sweet voice came from next to the telephone in the living room.
When is Qingzai coming home?
"Let her answer the phone."
"What... happened?!"
The younger relative held the phone receiver, secretly criticizing her niece.
When things get busy, you can't find anyone; even mobile phones become useless, let alone pagers.
Being so dedicated to work isn't necessarily a good thing!
"And then there's using Madam Qian to trigger the hidden map—" Fangfang returned to the main topic, "How do you trigger it?"
Zhu Qing leaned against the door and heard her friend, who had many friends, talking on the phone.
When exactly did he memorize Cheng Xinglang's number?
Do you contact him when he was riding his motorcycle around?
"You're off work already, why isn't Qingzai home yet?" Fangfang continued. "I should have let her apply for forensic medicine, then she wouldn't have to work overtime."
Zhu Qing: ...
The way they said that made it sound as if the uncle and nephew had known each other when they applied for the exam.
“Go and apply for forensic medicine yourself,” she said, leaning against the door.
Sheng Fang heard her niece's voice, turned around, and grinned: "You're back?"
Fang Fang's catchphrase on using coconut flakes in a creative way—
"No, being a policeman has been my dream since I was a child."
...
At the case analysis meeting in the early morning, Mo Zhenbang posted Kuang Xiaoyan's personal information on the whiteboard.
"Kuang Xiaoyan is 23 years old. If what her cousin said is true, she disappeared three years ago when she was 20."
Liang Qikai flipped through the education records: "He dropped out of school in Form 3, and the last registered address was a tin shack at No. 23 Fuhe Street."
"The forensic and identification departments are working overtime to compare the DNA data, but the DNA database is incomplete. There are more than 6 million people in Hong Kong, 3.04 million of whom are women. Ordinary people like Kwong Siu-yin who have no criminal record will not have her sample in their files."
"The test results for the severed toe are not yet available."
"A tin shack?" Mo Zhenbang pointed to the photo Rong Zimei had left on the whiteboard. "Is this the one?"
He emphasized it with a marker.
The girl in the photo is standing against the light. The photo is overexposed and her face is not visible. Only her slightly raised chin and her hand holding the backpack strap can be seen.
Zeng Yongshan stared at the photo for a long time: "That backpack strap—"
"The tin shack was demolished a long time ago," Haozai said. "It's been turned into a herbal medicine shop now."
“The old neighbors can’t all just vanish.” Mo Zhenbang turned to look at everyone. “Do I have to teach you what to do next?”
The police split up and set off to conduct on-site investigations on Fuhe Street.
The neighborhood that used to be crowded with tin shacks has now been demolished, and a few construction workers are squatting by the roadside eating boxed lunches.
"They've all moved out."
"It was completely demolished by the end of the year before last. Who still remembers who lived here?"
The old neighbors have long since moved away. Perhaps the people in the small shops along the street have seen Kuang Xiaoyan, but they have no idea what the girl's name is. They can't remember her based on the blurry photos and vague descriptions in the hands of the police.
After most of the day had passed, there had been almost no progress.
"I'm going to the convenience store to buy a bottle of water," Xu Jiale said.
Zhu Qing: "There's a convenience store up ahead, I see it."
"Where can I still find it—"
Before he finished speaking, Zhu Qing had already turned into a narrow alley.
At the end of the alley, there is a "Chao Ji Store" with plastic photos swaying in the wind.
The old lady didn't even look up: "Take whatever you want."
It wasn't until the police showed their badges and asked about the name "Kwong Siu-yin" that she turned around and called into the house, "Old man, isn't that girl from the Kwong family named Kwong Siu-yin?"
Finally, progress was made, and Zhu Qing opened her notebook to take notes.
"Her father is a gambling addict. People come and throw red paint at him every few days. He also drinks all day long and is drunk from morning till night. I've never seen him sober. Her mother is even more outrageous. I heard she's in that kind of business, and there are always shady men coming and going from her house."
"Xiao Yan is pretty, with skin as white as snow, but she looks down on people with her chin held high and her eyes are on the top of her head."
"What's the use? Being born into this kind of family, the prettier you are, the more you'll be dragged down."
The old lady suddenly remembered something: "When she was little, she would squat in front of my shop to do her homework because she thought it was noisy at home, and her pencil case would bang loudly."
"Later, when he got older, he probably realized he wasn't cut out for studying..."
"Does anyone else around here know her?"
“My son knows them; they were in the same class in elementary school.”
"I only let the child do her homework in front of the shop because I felt sorry for her..."
Xu Jiale asked the shop owner to make a phone call to their son.
After the call connected, the sound of mahjong tiles clattering could be heard from the other end.
Their son hesitated for a moment: "What Xiao Yan? I've long forgotten about her."
The call abruptly ended.
...
Teacher Ji could clearly sense that the performance was over, but the children's excitement hadn't subsided.
The children, who should have been quietly watching the documentary, were like a flock of chirping sparrows, their rustling sounds rising and falling in the dimly lit theater.
The most eye-catching one is the blooming flower in the very center of the third row.
The young master of the Sheng family leaned against the back of Jinbao's chair with one hand, the other resting on his knee, his short legs crossed. He looked as relaxed and content as if he were watching a play in a private cinema.
Teacher Ji tiptoed around behind him and tapped his little hand, which was resting on the back of the chair, with her index finger.
"What's wrong?" Sheng Fang looked up, her round eyes filled with innocence.
Teacher Ji pursed her lips.
Of course, she couldn't say it directly. Ever since all the kids in the class knew that the Powerpuff Girls were his niece, Sheng Fang's influence in the class had grown even stronger. Last week, he had just casually mentioned that he didn't like carrots, and many classmates did the same, picking out their carrots.
This young master has considerable influence.
Teacher Ji was worried that all the children in the class would be watching documentaries with their legs crossed.
"Wow, gorillas are so smart."
The children stared intently at the screen, completely captivated by the documentary footage, and exclaimed in unison.
Teacher Ji took the opportunity to point to the little feet that were sticking up, and then pointed to his knees.
Shengfang pouted and, mimicking the posture of a chimpanzee in a documentary, sat up straight.
Teacher Ji returned to the front of the stage.
"Scientists have discovered that the intelligence of a gorilla is equivalent to that of a five-year-old child, and there are even a very few exceptionally intelligent individuals who can reach the intellectual level of a ten-year-old human."
"Trained chimpanzees can do single-digit calculations and understand simple language."
The camera then cuts to a close-up of a chimpanzee skillfully tying its shoelaces.
"She can even tie her own shoelaces like this."
"In other words, if we invited a gorilla to attend our Weston Kindergarten now, it could do morning exercises and learn skills just like the children—"
The children listened with wide eyes, while Shengfang looked down at her little sneakers.
A new discovery: gorillas can tie their shoelaces, but he can't.
He clenched his fist; he wanted to learn how to tie his shoelaces!
The little coconut baby in the back row poked Fangfang and said, "Fangfang, the teacher said that gorillas can be our classmates!"
“A chatterbox,” Sheng Fang said.
At this point, he looked up at the clock on the wall of the media room.
School's almost over, I wonder what Chui Shui Qing is busy with?
Her uncle hasn't picked her up from get off work in a long time.
...
In the CID meeting room, officers' complaints could be heard from time to time.
"Is this cousin a ghost? We still can't find her."
“When Rong Zimei reported the case, she only left the supermarket’s address and the supermarket’s office number. When we called, the phone was completely disconnected.”
"The people in the police station are so careless. They didn't even do a basic identity verification before letting people go."
"We did find her home address," someone said, peeking out from a pile of files. "But these are all old registrations; she's moved so many times. When will the household registration office update the information?"
Liang Qikai was looking down at the documents when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure moving at the door. He looked up and said, "Xiao Sun is back."
Xiao Sun pushed open the door, looking travel-worn, and shook his head helplessly: "I just came back from that supermarket. I found out that Rong Zimei was fired on Sunday afternoon."
“Sunday?” Mo Zhenbang raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the day she came to report the case?”
“Yes, the timing is perfect.” Xiao Sun took a sip of water and opened her notebook. “The HR manager said she’s been working for three months and is still clumsy. At first, they put her as a sales promoter, but she couldn’t even sell a laundry detergent. Later, they transferred her to the cashier, but she kept making mistakes in the accounts.”
When Rong Zimei reported the case, Zeng Yongshan and Xu Jiale happened to be chatting with their colleagues in the reporting room.
At this moment, Xu Jiale smiled and chimed in, "That Rong Zimei does seem a bit dim-witted."
"On Sunday, she wasn't supposed to be on duty in the afternoon, but her colleague had something come up, so she switched shifts with them. However, her colleague didn't explain the time clearly to her, and during the busiest time of the promotional day, the cashier was short-staffed. Customers waited in line for twenty minutes and ended up giving the manager a severe dressing down."
"The manager can't take his anger out on the customer, and he can only smile and apologize when he's being scolded. After finally managing to appease the customer with stamps and coupons and send him away, he fired Rong Zimei on the spot in a fit of anger."
"I heard that at the time, Rong Zimei kept begging the manager to give her another chance, but the manager just fired her."
"In that case, it's not really her fault. She was just unlucky, and the manager was in a bad mood. He probably disliked her for a long time—it's quite pitiful."
Someone sighed deeply: "Poor Rong Zimei, we should pity ourselves instead. The clues have gone cold again, we have no leads at all, and we don't even know where to start investigating."
"A person has been missing for three years, and only my cousin reported it to the police? Doesn't anyone else want to know if she's alive or dead?"
"What was she doing before? After dropping out of school, didn't she ever work? It sounds like Kuang Xiaoyan's parents aren't responsible people either. Do they really want to support her?"
"How could he just disappear for three years without any reason... Could it really be—"
"Exchange of lives?"
A brief silence fell over the meeting room.
Zhu Qing stood in front of the evidence table, staring through the plastic bag at the birth date and time paper tied to the severed toe.
“According to Rong Zimei’s testimony,” Liang Qikai broke the silence, “strange things have been happening one after another ever since Kuang Xiaoyan started imitating Lin Tingchao.”
My cousin suspects that Lin Tingchao deliberately got close to Kuang Xiaoyan.
"They say rich people are trading their lives with poor people..."
“Perhaps we should change our approach,” Uncle Li suddenly said, putting down his teacup.
What's the approach?
All eyes turned to him.
Uncle Li's gaze, however, fell on the evidence bag in Zhu Qing's hand.
Uncle Li: "Go ask the fortune teller."
Haozai almost choked on his coffee: "Uncle Li, are you serious?"
“I’m not saying you should believe this stuff.” Uncle Li glanced at him sideways, tapping the case file lightly with his fingers. “But when Rong Zimei reported the case, she kept mentioning ‘exchanging lives’… Whether this case was orchestrated by Rong Zimei herself or it really involved some shady dealings, her ‘exchanging lives’ is always somewhat related to her motives and methods.”
He pointed to the yellow paper in the evidence bag, as well as the newspaper from the day of Kuang Xiaoyan's birth.
Mo Zhenbang pondered for a moment and nodded: "Understanding these folk sayings may provide a breakthrough."
The clock struck five, but no one in the office seemed to notice it was time to leave.
Mo Zhenbang began assigning tasks, his voice standing out clearly in the noisy conference room.
"Investigate Kuang Xiaoyan's social connections, especially the whereabouts of her parents. Even if they ran away to avoid debts, it's impossible for them to disappear without a trace. How could her parents not know anything about a living person disappearing for three years?"
"Check her work records after dropping out of school, including clothing stores, restaurants, convenience stores... question anyone who might have come into contact with her."
"Continue to follow up on the supermarket line. Even if the HR department didn't register the employees' personal information, do you think the colleagues didn't know where Rong Zimei lived at all?"
"We must compile a list of Lin Tingchao's classmates before he dropped out of school in Form Three today to trace his line."
Xiao Sun was hurriedly packing up his materials to prepare for his visit when suddenly the meeting room door was pushed open.
Mo Zhenbang: "Also, what Uncle Li said about the fortune teller..."
The adorable child's excited voice came from behind—
"I'm going with Qingzai!"
Without turning around, Zhu Qing knew who had come.
...
The young master of the Sheng family leaned against the door of the conference room, his little feet lightly touching the ground, holding a chocolate bar in his hand, while Aunt Ping followed behind him with a helpless expression.
Aunt Ping was still carrying the young master's schoolbag in her hand. It was clear that the child had just gotten off the school bus and "kidnapped" her to the police station.
"I thought it was almost time for you all to leave work, but who knew you were still in a meeting..."
Aunt Ping couldn't remember how she had been persuaded by this little devil.
The young master blinked his dark, grape-like eyes, calling out "Aunt Ping is the best" in a soft, sweet voice, accompanied by a pitiful little expression—no one could resist him. Aunt Ping kept telling him not to disturb Qingqing's work, but she would stop for a couple of steps and then take three, and by the time she realized what was happening, she was already standing in the police station building.
This situation seems to have happened before, more than once.
The young master of the Sheng family only knows a few moves, but these few moves are always effective.
He had arrived at his destination, stood next to Qingzai, and waved to Aunt Ping.
"Aunt Ping, you should go home and rest." He gave her the order to leave in his childish voice. "I'm taking Qingzai to work overtime."
It's obvious that Shengfang has already planned out the evening's activities perfectly.
The first step was for the uncle and nephew to have dinner at the police station cafeteria.
Zhu Qing ordered the food and asked the child to find a seat.
Fangfang was disobedient, clinging to the counter with her little hands and standing on tiptoe.
"Sister Xiao, I'd like to add pork chop salad, blanched kale, a roast meat platter, and—"
Uncle Ming, who was in the kitchen, poked his head out and asked, "Kid, how can you eat so much?"
She spread her hands: "Kids need to grow."
These words were directed at Zhu Qing again.
Sister Xiao and Uncle Ming both turned their gazes to her face.
Zhu Qing was already used to it.
I bet little Fangfang just learned some new lines from the cafeteria lady at kindergarten.
It was already late at night when I left the police station.
The children there are very familiar with the Temple Street area. Ever since they've had the mango shaved ice there a few times, they can find the stall even in the dark.
But this time, Zhu Qing took him to a different destination.
The niece held her uncle's hand as they walked through the bustling crowd.
She found out that 90% of the fortune tellers on this street were charlatans, and only the fortune teller at the back door of a watch shop had real skills.
The narrow alley was inconvenient for driving, so they walked around several intersections until their feet ached.
The little one still wouldn't give up, saying that if Qingzai could ride a motorcycle with him, they could easily turn into any place.
"I asked the doctor about the process, and he said that getting a motorcycle license is very easy."
"How about Aunt Ping and I go and register you tomorrow? You can ride a motorcycle in fifteen days at most!"
Zhu Qing tapped his little head.
“I’m very busy,” she said. “Go take the exam yourself.”
Let out a sigh.
Qingzai is indeed very busy. Just with her eldest sister's surgery, the children have to worry a lot. How can she find time for her motorcycle?
“I see it,” Zhu Qing said, pointing to a warning sign. “It’s over there!”
The warning sign read "Under Repair" in large characters, and they finally found the watch shop.
The watch shop had closed down. Shengfang craned her neck and saw a dark blue curtain swaying in the breeze at the end of the alley.
The curtain was embroidered with Bagua diagrams at the edges, and the smell of incense grew stronger as they approached.
Fangfang's eyelashes were wet from the smell. She raised her hand to rub her eyes and looked closely.
A dozen or so pilgrims waited quietly outside the tent, clutching red paper in their hands, each with a different expression.
It wasn't until they joined the group that very quiet discussions could be heard.
"It will take at least an hour to get a turn, and I don't even know if I'll get to see you today."
"Grandma Huang only does twenty divinations a day... If it's my turn, it's worth it no matter how long the wait is."
The children stood on tiptoe to count the heads, and the line moved slowly forward.
He followed Qingzai on a new adventure, occasionally peeking out to look at the sorceress behind the curtain.
How mysterious!
Suddenly, Sheng Fang felt her clothes being tugged.
A middle-aged man in a suit bent down and approached him and Qingzai.
"Pretty girl, little kid..."
"I have an urgent matter. Here's 600 yuan. Can we switch seats?"
The young master of the Sheng family glanced at him, too lazy to even say a word.
The man chuckled dryly twice: "Eight hundred?"
The little boy had a stern face.
"Let's round it up to a thousand, okay? You can't just raise the price like this!"
Zhu Qing turned her face away, suppressing a laugh—
This person asked the question of the least money-obsessed small-time tycoon in all of Hong Kong.
The children stood with their arms crossed, unmoved by the money, and dismissed the man who had bought the spot.
The other party asked each person individually and finally managed to buy a seat closer to the front, thus successfully joining the queue.
"Business is so good," Sheng Fang said. "Let Jinbao grow up to be a fortune teller too."
Jinbao was just feeling down because he hadn't found his ideal job.
Fangfang thought this, then shook her head and corrected, "God."
Neon lights danced on the children's hair.
He is the most responsible junior policeman. He never complains no matter how long he waits, and when he is bored, he will find something to do.
Now, Fangfang has become an undercover agent, going deep into the community.
He pricked up his ears like a vigilant little animal, listening to the whispers among the people.
"I heard that Granny Huang can even accurately predict wrongful convictions from twenty years ago!" an old woman said in a low voice. "In that headless corpse case, the police investigated for half a year without any results, but she found out where the murderer buried the body just by doing some calculations."
"Last month, Mrs. Chen came to ask about her daughter's marriage prospects, and guess what happened—" the aunt with the perm-like hair next to her chimed in.
A child's innocent voice interrupted their whispered conversation—
"How about it?"
Fangfang followed after him with small, quick steps.
They exchanged a glance, took a step forward in unison, and lowered their voices even further.
The young master took another step closer, and they took another step forward.
It's a pity that Grandma and Auntie with the ramen-noodle hair don't plan to play with him.
Shengfang turned around and tugged at Zhu Qing's sleeve, her little face full of excitement: "Qingzai, they say the fortune teller is really effective!"
Zhu Qing ruffled the little boy's upturned hair and teased him, "So what do you want to ask the fortune teller?"
"Ask my niece when her summer vacation starts." Fangfang looked down at her palm and added, "And while I'm at it, ask when kindergarten starts—"
Zhu Qing knew that during her recent period of leisure, Fang Fang was very unhappy about having to go to kindergarten every day.
Every morning when the baby wakes up, she shakes her arm, begging her niece to make an exception and call Teacher Ji to ask for leave.
“Even if the kindergarten closes down…” Zhu Qing said, “I will send you to another one.”
Fangfang Baby snorted, "Then I have nothing more to ask."
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