Chapter 11 "Young sir, investigating the case is the priority."
Shengfang was three and a half years old when she was not even sure if she had ever seen her older sister. Perhaps she had only seen her a few times and her memory of her sister was already blurred.
But just now, he was hiding in the corner of the corridor when he heard his second sister answer a phone call and rush out, which seemed to be related to his eldest sister.
The second young lady of the Sheng family has difficulty moving around, so every time she goes out, it's a big fuss.
The young master peeked out with his fluffy little head, walked downstairs lightly, and after making sure that his second sister hadn't been pushed into the elevator, he slipped away faster than a little rabbit.
Zhu Qing almost didn't react in time, and grabbed the doorknob outside the children's room with both hands.
She leaned forward and looked down into the garage.
With a "whoosh," the tiny young master squeezed into the trunk.
That was Miss Sheng's personal vehicle, with a wheelchair restraint device in the back.
Not long after, the haggard-looking Miss Sheng was pushed to the garage by the maid.
The wheelchair was safely loaded into the carriage.
With a roar of the engine, the car slowly drove away from the garage.
Zhu Qing stood there, belatedly realizing—
The young master has gone to investigate the case.
And she was left behind?
The young policewoman, penniless and without a car or driver's license, is determined not to let any clue slip through her fingers.
After all, with a police officer's ID in hand, requisitioning a vehicle is legal and reasonable when necessary.
The Sheng family's driver was already waiting by the car, but he hesitated to start the engine until Butler Cui nodded slightly through the glass window.
"Madam is investigating the case."
As soon as the car door closed, Zhu Qing deftly fastened her seatbelt in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the black sedan that was gradually driving away.
"Keep up."
Old Jiang tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
These past few days, a series of changes have occurred in the Sheng family, leaving everyone dizzy and disoriented. His mind is still blank, but his driving skills, honed over twenty years, have long since become muscle memory. As the tires rolled over the fallen leaves in the villa area halfway up the mountain, the figure of Butler Cui in the distance in the rearview mirror gradually shrank into a small black dot.
"Madam," Old Jiang couldn't help but ask, "Why did you follow the Second Miss's car?"
Zhu Qing's gaze remained fixed on the taillights of the car in front, her tone exactly the same as before: "She forgot something."
...
After driving for a long time on the winding mountain road, Zhu Qing's gaze unconsciously locked onto the trunk of the car in front.
If the young master of the Sheng family can't hold it in, he'll probably bang on the trunk of the car, right?
Although Butler Cui said that Miss Sheng would visit her sister Sheng Peirong without fail on the first of every month, Old Jiang was completely unaware of this.
Everyone had heard that Miss Sheng had moved to the fresh air of Shek O fishing village, but at this moment, a black sedan turned into the gate of the sanatorium.
Old Jiang was puzzled when Madam told him to stop the car.
The sanatorium is nestled among lush trees, quiet and secluded. Visitor guidelines are posted on the walls, and unregistered visitors need the director's special permission to enter.
Security at the private sanatorium was very strict. Zhu Qing managed to get past the security guards by claiming she was delivering medicine to Miss Sheng.
Human legs can't keep up with wheels. By the time Zhu Qing found the open-air garage, Miss Sheng had already been taken by the servants to visit her sister.
The Sheng family is tight-lipped about Sheng Peirong's current situation. What exactly happened to this eldest daughter of the Sheng family?
"I'm so bored!"
Zhu Qing's thoughts were suddenly interrupted.
Standing in front of the car's trunk, Sheng Peishan's personal driver, Uncle Zhao, stared in disbelief at the little head peeking out from inside.
Uncle Zhao was shocked and frantically turned around to look for her, but Miss Sheng had already disappeared.
He hurriedly said, "Young master, I'll have someone pick you up right away—"
"Shut up." With a deliberately fierce, childlike voice, Sheng Fang braced herself against the edge of the trunk with her two chubby hands and nimbly jumped out.
The young master solemnly brushed off the almost non-existent dust from his hands and turned to meet up with Zhu Qing.
"Let's go."
...
For Shengfang, this trip was like an unexpected adventure.
The sanatorium's environment was unexpectedly good, with shady trees, birdsong, and fragrant flowers, comparable to the back garden of a hillside villa.
The seemingly mature young master is, in the end, still a naive child. He slowed his pace and looked around curiously with his round eyes.
Zhu Qing used a combination of coaxing and deception, dragging and pulling, until the young master's cool sneakers left long tracks on the ground.
During her student days, Zhu Qing had worked countless jobs, but this was the first time she had ever taken on the role of a part-time kindergarten teacher.
She didn't know how to coax children, and her tone was stiff and helpless: "Little sir, investigating the case is the priority."
A three-and-a-half-year-old child may not understand the cases in TV dramas, but knows how impressive the brave detectives are.
He composed himself, quickened his pace with his short legs, and searched for his second sister. However, he couldn't help but steal glances around, even taking a few extra looks at the medicine cart pushed by the nurse.
As one of Hong Kong's most prestigious private sanatoriums, Canoan Sanatorium boasts astonishingly tight security; even the police cannot move an inch without a search warrant.
Because of this, no news has been released about Sheng Peirong since she was admitted to the hospital.
Zhu Qing stood at the foot of the ward building and looked up.
How many secrets are hidden within the seemingly glamorous Sheng family? From Sheng Fang's existence, the death of her eldest son-in-law, the disability of her second daughter, to Sheng Peirong's concealed hospitalization... every single thing is kept tightly under wraps.
All the information the outside world has ever known has been nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion by the Sheng family.
The elevator number remained stuck on the fourth floor and did not change.
In other words, Sheng Peirong's ward was located on the fourth floor.
After passing through the corridor, at the end is a suite with a private garden. The nurse station is a certain distance away from the suite, and sophisticated instruments display data on various vital signs.
Sheng Fang tried hard to keep his face straight and pretend to be calm. Just now, he heard the female officer say—
Do not act rashly.
To avoid being monitored, Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang climbed the stairs.
The stairwell window was half-open, and I don't know who left the smell of cigarettes, but the smell hasn't completely dissipated yet.
The young master pinched his nose in disgust, crouched down and tried to squeeze into the ward, when suddenly the hood of his hoodie was grabbed.
Zhu Qing made a "shh" gesture with her finger to her lips.
The conversation from the nurses' station could be heard clearly.
"Just now, the patient's fingers twitched slightly, and Dean Luo immediately notified Miss Sheng... but now—it's calm again."
"Miss Sheng was inside with her, just like usual, reading the newspaper to her."
The nurses were talking about the patient's condition.
Initially, due to severe post-traumatic stress disorder, the patient often sat motionless, remained silent, and even refused to eat. It was her husband's insistence on feeding her through a nasal tube that saved her life. However, due to long-term depression, she suddenly developed stress-induced cardiomyopathy a few years later and became a vegetative state after being rescued.
Zhu Qing leaned against the wall.
Assuming that He Jia'er, the victim in the fireplace skeleton case, had some connection with Professor Cheng, and now that Professor Cheng has passed away, Sheng Peirong is the only person who might be able to provide clues to this mystery.
The nurses' conversation continued.
“Professor Cheng was with her a few years ago, and things were a little better. But since Professor Cheng passed away, her vital signs have become weaker and weaker.”
"I heard she used to be an Iron Lady, someone who wouldn't even blink at the negotiating table..."
Shengfang tugged at Zhu Qing's sleeve, her little face full of confusion.
Zhu Qing then realized that the widely circulated rumors of a "fight for inheritance" were nothing but gossip. After her daughter's accidental death, Sheng Peirong had already suffered a mental breakdown, and the old Mr. Sheng had fabricated the so-called power struggle within the wealthy family to save face.
“Perhaps for the patient, being awake is more painful than being unconscious,” the older nurse said slowly. “During that time, she held that notebook every day and waited. She waited until the lock on the notebook was worn down and the dark green leather cover turned white…”
A thought flashed through Zhu Qing's mind.
Back then, during the Hong Kong News New Talent Program, the organizers distributed notebooks and pens as souvenirs.
When taking photos to commemorate the event, He Jiaer held a dark green notebook and proudly tucked a pen into her shirt's breast pocket.
"What notebook?" a young nurse asked.
"The cover was gold-embossed... but it got lost when we moved the wards."
"She always said there was news about her daughter inside..."
The young master of the Sheng family was patted on the shoulder.
action!
The nurses were talking quietly until they heard footsteps, at which point their chatter stopped abruptly.
"You are—"
Chen Chaosheng died under mysterious circumstances, with surface clues pointing to suicide out of fear of punishment.
The suicide scene was too "perfect," and the suitcase in the bedroom remained a thorn in her heart.
Chen Chaosheng, Cheng Zhaoqian, He Jiaer...
What exactly is the connection between them?
The notebook contained case files.
Zhu Qing took out the family photo of the Sheng family when the villa on the hillside was completed, and pointed to her second son-in-law Chen Chaosheng: "Has this gentleman been here?"
The nurses looked at each other, then suddenly—
The little one stood on tiptoe, resting his round chin on the nurse's station.
"Nurse sister." The young master even managed to act cute, blinking his eyes, "My second brother-in-law promised to bring me an Iron Man model! It lights up!"
"I haven't seen your second brother-in-law come by." The nurse immediately understood and said with a smile.
Meanwhile, Zhu Qing seemingly casually slipped a photo from the Hong Kong News New Talent Program event onto the screen.
The photo spun in mid-air, and the older nurse instinctively caught it.
Her gaze lingered on the photograph for a moment: "This notebook—"
Zhu Qing stared at her.
The nursing home nurses strictly adhered to the staff guidelines and dared not utter a word.
After a suffocating silence, she handed the photo back and smiled, saying, "The notebooks they're carrying seem to match the pens."
The ward door lock clicked.
"Do you need to go to the restroom?" Zhu Qing looked away upon hearing this. "I'll take you there."
“Okay, Marissa.”
The young master, seizing the opportunity, gave her the name of a Filipino maid.
The two, one big and one small, circled around the corner of the corridor, their figures gradually disappearing into the distance...
Zhu Qing asked, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like a little movie star?"
With her still-childish face blooming, she feigned a profound tone and said—
"You're like a tacit cop."
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