Chapter 55 Qingzai seems to really like me!
The meeting room of the Major Crimes Unit was filled with the strong aroma of coffee in the early morning.
The officers sat in a circle, each with a thick list of healing society members and contact records spread out in front of them. They made notes under the members' names on the registration forms, using different colored highlighters: blue for "contacted" and black for "invalid numbers." The more organized the files were, the more their fatigue lingered. This investigation felt like a marathon that had just begun, and they had no idea when it would end.
In our imagination, telephone investigation is nothing more than a simple process of dialing, asking questions, and then hanging up.
But once the work actually began, everyone discovered that the task was far more difficult than they had imagined.
Every phone call could potentially lead to a different impasse.
“I counted, a total of seven. As soon as I said ‘Yau Ma Tei Police Station,’ they hung up immediately. These days, the locals are more wary of the police than thieves. As soon as they hear it’s the police, they immediately treat it as a scam call.”
"You should be grateful. There's an old lady here, probably a lonely one. She got a call last night and chatted with me for a full ten minutes before finally getting to the 'important' point: she said her cat was missing and asked if I could help her find it."
"What did you say?"
"What else could I say? I told the old lady that finding a lost cat isn't the responsibility of the Major Crimes Unit! I suggested she try posting missing cat notices downstairs. She just sighed and said, 'We police don't help citizens anymore…'"
“Just now, an old man asked me for my badge number, saying I had a bad attitude and wanted to file a complaint. I clearly said 'thank you,' that was so polite, I could run for Mr. Hong Kong. If I can get a complaint for this, it's so unfair!”
It's only 10 a.m., and they've only worked for two hours, but they're already exhausted.
Everyone's eyes revealed a weariness that made them feel utterly hopeless, as if they had been completely drained of their energy.
Progress is too slow. At this rate, I don't know when we'll finish making these 470 calls.
Zhu Qing couldn't help but think that if Fangfang were here, she would probably look up at these adults with wide eyes and disbelief.
They're complaining about such a fun game; they really don't know how lucky they are...
“They also said that calling at night would disturb people’s rest, and it’s even worse in the morning! I just called and a housewife scolded me for waking her up to catch up on her sleep, saying that she only managed to put her baby to sleep at four in the morning.”
"My ears are almost not my own anymore. Even now, when I close my eyes, my head is still buzzing."
"It's easier to contact people with landlines at home. For those who left pagers, I had to call them three times before they answered."
“Those who leave their phone numbers have a certain level of financial strength and should not be Xu Mingyuan’s targets. They do not need to be listed as key targets for investigation.”
“Some of them have already immigrated. I checked their immigration records, and at least they were in good mental condition when they left Hong Kong. Xu Mingyuan couldn’t possibly be so powerful as to make overseas calls every day to give them psychological suggestions, could he?”
Mo Zhenbang stood in front of the whiteboard, his fingertips poking at Xu Mingyuan's photo, his brows furrowed when he looked up.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he rubbed his temples.
"Are you still wasting your breath here? You'd be better off finishing the meeting and getting back to making calls." He tapped the whiteboard. "After all these calls, have you discovered anything?"
Zhu Qing stood up to report.
"According to the healing society's records, Wang Yingtong came into contact with the organization two years ago. At that time, she was 29 years old and married."
The officers immediately looked up alertly.
I was twenty-nine years old at the time—why emphasize "at the time"?
“Last night I called the home phone number registered with Wang Yingtong, and a man answered.”
"He said Wang Yingtong had committed suicide, but when asked further, he changed his story and said he didn't know her, and then hung up."
"We are tracing her exact address before her death." Zhu Qing pointed to the marital status section in the detailed membership information. "The man who answered the phone last night should be her husband."
Inspector Mo nodded: "Lock onto this lead and continue the investigation. If necessary, visit the person in person."
"Currently, the identified victims are all female. If we include potential male victims, the list would be far more than four hundred."
"First, complete the screening of the existing list, then contact the male members of the healing society."
"Boss! This workload will kill people!"
"We simply don't have the manpower right now—"
When a groan erupted in the conference room, Mo Zhenbang had already turned and left.
The list he has is no shorter than anyone else's.
If Xu Mingyuan is indeed hiding in the shadows as they suspect, then he has been at large for far too long.
We can't delay any longer.
...
Zhu Qing found Wang Yingtong's address before her death and went to Yuen Long with Xu Jiale.
The old tenement building's staircase creaked, the motion-sensor lights flickered on and off, the stairwell was filled with an unpleasant smell of smoke, the mottled walls were covered with small advertisements, and several crushed cigarette butts were stuck in the gaps at the corners of the stairs.
They stopped in front of an iron gate.
"Knock knock knock—"
Xu Jiale raised his hand, his knuckles making a dull thud on the iron gate.
The man who opened the door was wearing wrinkled cotton loungewear and was holding a baby bottle, which he was shaking.
Zhu Qing glanced at the markings on the bottle; the warm water was at 150 ml, and the milk powder at the bottom of the bottle had not yet completely dissolved.
Xu Jiale showed his identification: "Mr. Li, is Wang Yingtong your wife?"
Li Haojie put on plastic slippers and came out, gently closing the door behind him.
"What now? Wasn't disturbing the peace by calling last night enough? Now you're coming to our door." He said impatiently, "The person has been dead for two years. What else do you want to ask? I think you police officers really have nothing better to do."
According to the investigation data, the deceased, Wang Yingtong, was born in a shantytown in Yuen Long. Her parents died early, and she first lived with her grandparents. Later, she was transferred to the home of a distant relative and lived a life of dependence.
In those days, she learned to be silent and compliant. At the age of twenty-three, she worked in a garment factory and met her foreman, Li Haojie. Li Haojie would say sweet words to her and would give her bowl-shaped rice cakes when he coaxed her to work overtime. This cheap tenderness brightened her gloomy life, so she agreed to marry him without hesitation.
Five years into their marriage, they still had no children. When her husband's relatives pressured her to have a baby, she always hung her head, as if she had committed a terrible crime. Li Haojie took her to the hospital, and after a series of detailed examinations, the doctor shook his head, diagnosing that Wang Yingtong would have difficulty conceiving. From then on, Li Haojie's face darkened.
She committed suicide by jumping off a building in the sixth year of her marriage. She spent her days sitting by the window, watching the children playing below, until that day, when she jumped from the roof.
During the investigation, the police saw a photo of Wang Yingtong.
She had delicate features, fair skin, and long, smooth black hair that fell over her shoulders. She lowered her head slightly, but her eyes were timid.
Did Wang Yingtong exhibit any unusual behavior before her suicide?
"Or, leave behind some special items?"
Two years ago, Wang Yingtong committed suicide due to severe depression, and there was no suspicious cause of death.
Only now has the police reopened the case, but Li Haojie is unwilling to cooperate.
"Isn't this annoying?" Li Haojie frowned. "I already said I don't know!"
"Have you forgotten?" Zhu Qing took a step forward. "We don't mind going inside and waiting until you remember."
The baby's crying inside the house finally stopped.
Instead, there was the sound of slippers rubbing back and forth on the floor, mixed with a woman's soft humming.
"Alright, alright, I'm scared of you." Li Haojie blocked the two police officers, preventing them from going any further. "Before she died, she didn't show any strange behavior. That's just how she is, she comes and goes... sometimes she laughs, sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night and cries nonstop. Given the circumstances, suicide would have been a relief for her."
“You’re talking about his belongings? I threw them away a long time ago. My mom said that keeping the things of the dead in the house is bad luck and will bring bad fortune.”
"After so many years of marriage, we've grown to have nothing to say to each other anymore. In the later stages, I hardly ever went home, so I have no idea what's wrong with her. I'm constantly overthinking things. Am I supposed to stay by her side all day, comforting her? Officer, Madam, that's all I know. Please stop bothering me—"
"Did you know that Wang Yingtong was seeing a psychologist at the time?" Xu Jiale interrupted him.
Li Haojie had already taken out his keys to open the door, but upon hearing the question, his brow furrowed, and the keychain rattled in his hand.
"There is such a psychologist."
"What a load of rubbish! I think she's just a con artist. I didn't want her to go, but one day she secretly told me that the doctor's visits are actually free, but the doctor doesn't allow her to tell anyone, not her family, or other patients."
"Are you kidding me? Does she think I'm stupid? What kind of doctor would be so kind as to treat her for free? I bet it's her own money she saved for groceries!"
"Later I cut off her grocery money, to see what she would do..."
Zhu Qing: "Do you remember the doctor's name?"
“Who knows his name…” Li Haojie rolled his eyes. “I think his surname is Xu? That’s all I really don’t know.”
His tone was resentful, as if Wang Yingtong's death had caused him a great deal of trouble.
"Are you alright? If you are, I'll go back now." With that, Li Haojie opened the door and went inside.
A woman's laughing voice came from inside the house.
"Look who's back! It's Dad—"
Li Haojie also said with a smile, "I just went downstairs to throw out the trash."
"I think I heard someone knocking on the door..."
No, you misheard.
"Look how silly Daddy is, taking your little baby bottle with him when he takes out the trash."
The door closed, and the conversation inside abruptly stopped.
Wang Yingtong's life ended abruptly two years ago.
Her husband, Li Haojie, already has a new family.
Now, the police can only piece together fragments of information about her when investigating her.
Piecing together fragmented memories.
What others consider insignificant in the past is her short life.
Xu Jiale stared down at the transcript and sighed softly: "Same situation as You Minmin, and she even received free psychological counseling."
...
At kindergarten, Shengfang's favorite time is outdoor class time.
Because he has completely fallen in love with fighting with other children to play on the slide.
He just didn't expect that such a simple slide would be used by different classes in turn.
What's so amazing about this slide? He's going to invite his friends to the hillside villa next time!
Right now, the play area is the domain of the older children, while the younger children can only have their basketball lessons on the sidelines.
The trio of Shengfang, Xiaoyesi, and Jinbao are enjoying their basketball lesson.
"Bouncing the ball is so much fun!" Jinbao exclaimed.
"This is basketball!" Sheng Fang corrected.
These past two days, the young master of the Sheng family is no longer Jinbao's English teacher. Jinbao said that he hates English class the most. Anyway, his parents said that when he grows up, his job will be to direct other people's work. Since that's the case, he doesn't need to learn English anymore. He can just hire an employee who can speak English.
Coconut Flakes shook her head vigorously: "What if the employee you hire lies to you?"
Jinbao: "Two will be fine!"
Shengfang shook her head vigorously: "What if they're in cahoots? That's called being an accomplice."
Jinbao's mouth formed an "o" shape: "Fangfang, you truly deserve to be a police officer from the Major Crimes Unit!"
Shengfang loves hearing these words.
He snorted, feeling smug, and accidentally knocked the basketball away, then ran off to retrieve it.
While retrieving the ball, Shengfang overheard two children arguing in the play area.
The older children in the kindergarten were pushing and shoving each other on the slide, and in the end, no one could play.
Sheng Fang, holding a basketball, shook her head as she walked: "Big dummy."
The old-fashioned boy with round-framed glasses raised his hand: "Teacher, Sheng Fang is talking badly about people."
Fangfang, the little boy, was holding the ball, his cheeks puffed up with anger.
“I hate A-Juan the most,” he said to Jinbao in a low voice.
The old-fashioned boy raised his hand even higher: "Teacher, Shengfang is talking bad about me."
After class, Shengfang stood dejectedly in front of Teacher Ji, the toes of her sneakers drawing circles on the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ah Juan skipping past him. He suddenly looked up, baring his tiny teeth.
The young master stopped talking badly about others and started threatening them with his eyes, to see how he would complain then.
"Do you know you were wrong?" Teacher Ji squatted down to look him in the eye.
Shengfang curled her lips and drawled, "I know."
"You'll correct it next time." Teacher Ji patted his little head. "Alright, go play now."
Shengfang turned to play, but suddenly came back: "Teacher, where are the coconut flakes and Jinbao?"
Sheng Fang was lost in thought during one of his classes, reminiscing about his glorious exploits as an undercover agent. In any case, he didn't notice the important announcement the teacher made.
It turns out that the kindergarten is going to hold a performance, and both Yesi and Jinbao have signed up. They are going to rehearse now.
Surprisingly, they all have talents.
The coconut shreds can dance, and Jinbao can play the drums.
Fangfang doesn't know anything and doesn't want to wear silly stage makeup to perform for others.
It would be so nice to clap hands from the audience.
"We will invite parents to participate in this performance," Teacher Ji said, pointing to the shiny cardstock in the craft basket. "So, in this afternoon's craft class, the children's task is to make an invitation by hand."
The blooming flower fell into deep thought.
Since that's the case, he should sign up too.
Let Qingzai see how powerful her uncle is!
When Little Coconut and Jinbao returned, Shengfang gathered around them again.
The three little heads huddled together, plotting.
Little Coconut said enthusiastically, "You can learn to dance with me!"
She tiptoed and twirled, her tutu fluttering like tiny flower petals.
"Do I have to wear a ballet dress?" Sheng Fang asked, her face filled with fear.
"Of course you want them! I can also lend you my ballet shoes and pretty hair clips."
Fangfang, her face tense, pondered: "I don't think it's appropriate."
“Then learn to play the drums with me!” Jinbao said. “I’ll teach you!”
Teacher Ji initially had no idea what the three of them were planning until lunchtime—
The classroom echoed with the clanging of percussion instruments as someone banged a stainless steel plate between two chopsticks, one in each hand.
Even the teacher from the next class peeked over to see what was going on.
"We finally had a few quiet days, and now it's started again." Teacher Ji rubbed her temples.
Actually, she had just reminded the child to put down his chopsticks and practice "drumming" at home, but looking at his pitiful, downturned mouth, she just couldn't bring herself to scold him.
The teaching assistant lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, "I have an idea."
...
After the phone interviews ended, the remaining list had to be compiled by walking around.
Mo Zhenbang divided the people into several groups, and Zhu Qing and Liang Qikai were assigned to the same group.
Haozai quietly leaned closer and asked Zeng Yongshan in a low voice, "Do you want to change?"
She glanced at Inspector Liang, who was diligently checking the address, and shook her head: "Forget it, he doesn't want to either."
Several groups of people set off separately, using the police station's old official vehicle.
Liang Qikai drove extremely slowly, as if he were patrolling the streets.
He started a conversation: "When I came out just now, I heard them say that tomorrow's event will definitely be canceled."
As if worried she wouldn't understand what he was saying, Liang Qikai's gentle smile remained unchanged as he slowly added, "It's about going to Mr. Weng's villa in Repulse Bay. They said that over the years, Mr. Weng has only ever treated everyone to afternoon tea, but this time he's made an exception and invited the Peninsula Hotel's chef—"
He speaks slowly, making you want to urge him to finish what he has to say.
Of course, it's okay if you don't say anything.
As Zhu Qing gazed at the street scene slowly receding outside the window, she couldn't help but say, "Get out, I'll drive."
Liang Qikai paused for a moment, pulled over, turned off the engine, and switched seats with Zhu Qing.
When the car started again, the speed was noticeably higher. With so many households on the list to visit, if efficiency wasn't improved quickly, working overtime until late at night wouldn't matter—the key issue was that Inspector Mo would use the excuse of "not disturbing the public's rest" to force them to schedule their work for the next day.
Zhu Qing hates procrastination.
I must finish the work at hand today.
Police cars patrolled the city, marking each destination on a list.
Often, all they find are closed doors and unanswered doorbells. Some residents go to work during the day, but thankfully there are always neighbors around. As long as they can confirm that the people on the list are still alive, the task is considered complete.
The names on the list were crossed off one by one, but very few clues were found.
“There should be someone in this household.” Liang Qikai stood downstairs, looking up at the clothes drying on the second-floor balcony, comparing the address with the address on the list. “The clothes are still wet; they were just washed.”
They knocked on the door.
A girl in her early twenties opened the door. She had clearly been washing clothes on the balcony, her fingers were white from being soaked in water. Her tone was normal until they asked her if her mother had received psychological treatment, at which point her face suddenly turned pale.
"My mother doesn't have a mental illness, she's perfectly normal, don't talk nonsense!" Her voice suddenly lowered, and she glanced warily at the stairwell, afraid of being overheard by the neighbors. "She just has trouble sleeping occasionally. What will people think if you come here like this?"
Zhu Qing looked over her shoulder into the room and saw a thin, middle-aged woman hurriedly putting away medicine bottles on the table.
Then, she completed the record on the list.
This isn't the first time such a situation has occurred, according to police investigation records. Some people believe that mental illness is difficult to talk about, are unwilling to seek help, and assume that others might not understand anyway, so they choose to remain silent.
Some people who finally decide to seek medical treatment often lose all their courage because of a family member's words, "Don't think too much" or "You're just too idle."
These prejudices and misunderstandings are perhaps harder to overcome than the cases they are investigating.
The doorbell of the next house still works, and a handwritten nameplate is crookedly nailed to the iron gate.
Zhu Qing pressed the doorbell, and the sound echoed in the corridor.
I don't know how much time passed, but an old woman from next door opened her door and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
Zhu Qing checked the list: "Is Ding Panxiang still living here?"
"She moved away a long time ago." The old woman next door shook her head. "That woman had a hard life... Her husband died of illness, and she raised a mentally challenged son all by herself."
Liang Qikai pressed for details and learned that the "foolish son" the old woman mentioned was actually intellectually disabled.
Caused by medical malpractice at birth, it cannot be cured.
"And then what?"
"Who knows?" The old woman waved her hand. "She just disappeared one day without even saying goodbye."
When Zhu Qing dialed the police station, Liang Qikai was studying the route for the visit.
He marked all the nearby addresses, which saved a lot of time when running around.
Twenty minutes later, the police station called back.
"We found it; it happened a year ago."
“Last year, Ding Panxiang committed suicide by burning charcoal with her son in their rented room. After all, if she were gone, her son would not be able to live on his own, so she had no choice but to make this decision.”
"They didn't choose their own home, probably because they couldn't bear to leave... that place holds many beautiful memories for the three of them."
...
Meanwhile, Tsang Wing-shan and Ho-jai arrived in Kwun Tong.
Deng Qiaorong, 37 years old, unmarried.
The address she filled in on the healing group's information was that of a tea stall where dishwashers were provided with accommodation.
The tea stall owner wasn't sure what was going on, so he called over the supervisor.
The foreman led them to the alley behind the tea stall, which was the employees' dormitory.
"Qiaorong? She often covers for others, working the night shift and then immediately going to the day shift, just to earn a little more money to send home."
"As the eldest daughter in the family, I have a heavy burden. I have to take care of my younger sister and my younger brother... My schedule is always full, and I don't even have a decent set of clothes."
“What’s the use of being sensible?” she sighed. “They work hard and are selfless when they’re alive, but no one cares when they die. There’s not even anyone to burn paper money for them. Those younger brothers and sisters are really heartless.”
The foreman said she remembered that when Deng Qiaorong died, it startled everyone at the tea stall.
A dishwasher who knew her well mentioned that she once said she felt superfluous.
"Actually, Qiaorong has always been very cheerful, but she suddenly became depressed during that period and said such things. But everyone has times when they can't think straight, and Afen thought she was just venting. Who knew that a few days later, she would commit suicide."
"She hanged herself right here. When they found her, she hadn't even kicked over the stool. Just like her, she tried her best not to cause trouble for others." The foreman quickened his pace, walking ahead and using a key to open the dormitory room at the end. "Later, the family came to claim the body. They didn't shed a single tear and even demanded compensation from our boss. Of course, the boss didn't want to deal with them, but this family was too difficult. In the end, to keep things quiet, the boss gave them two extra months' wages to get rid of them."
The room was small and empty, not eerie or strange at all, but the two police officers felt only a sense of desolation.
No one dares to live in this dormitory anymore.
The family didn't want any of Deng Qiaorong's belongings, so the boss had to have them disposed of as garbage.
"Qiaorong sees a psychologist? Impossible, where would she get the money?" the foreman said. "Every month, as soon as she gets her salary, she gives it all to her family. Her parents need money for medicine, her sister needs to go to school, and her brother needs to get married. All her salary isn't enough for them, and she doesn't even have a scrap left."
When asked about free psychotherapy, she paused for a moment, then shook her head.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Afen, who used to live next door to her?” she said, adding, “But Afen hasn’t worked here for a long time, and we don’t have her number here. You’re the police, you should be able to find her, right?”
As we left, the setting sun cast golden dappled light on the ground.
Zeng Yongshan and Haozai stopped and looked again at the small window of the dormitory.
The room was covered with a thick layer of dust. In the blink of an eye, Deng Qiaorong had been gone for a full year.
...
The investigation finally yielded results. The existing chain of evidence showed that all four victims had been in contact with the healing society, and the phone recordings provided by Zhu Qing directly confirmed a key fact: psychologist Xu Mingyuan illegally obtained the list of members of the healing society and deliberately targeted those isolated and helpless women.
There are still nineteen people on the unfinished visit list.
Behind every name may lie untold tragedies.
The loss of so many precious lives is heartbreaking, but since the crime has already occurred, all the police can do is to conduct more rigorous evidence collection, uncover the truth, and bring the perpetrators to justice.
Police are unable to confirm whether the suicides of the four women are related to Xu Mingyuan and are continuing their investigation.
However, there is currently no clear legal support for psychologically induced suicide, and sufficient indirect evidence needs to be accumulated before charges can be brought.
Liang Qikai got out of the red telephone booth and sat back in the passenger seat.
On the way back to the police station, he said gently, "I heard that Inspector Mo applied for special interrogation permission and took people to search a psychological clinic."
He paused for a moment: "All the medical reports from the past three years are here; not a single one has been destroyed."
"Isn't You Minmin's medical report also there?" Zhu Qing gripped the steering wheel. "The contents of the report are definitely normal; he wouldn't make such a basic mistake."
Ultimately, the police still lacked substantial evidence.
“There will definitely be pressure from public opinion.” Liang Qikai hesitated, “I’m afraid the media will start reporting on this soon… Tomorrow morning, Inspector Weng will come to cause trouble for us again.”
The police car slowly came to a stop in front of the police station.
Zhu Qing spotted that familiar figure at a glance.
Cheng Xinglang stood on the steps, looking down as he sorted through the file folder in his hand.
"Dr. Cheng!" She pushed open the car door, her voice preceding her action.
“These materials—” Liang Qikai leaned out of the car window, holding the membership information of the healing society.
She tossed the car keys over: "Take them with you."
Zhu Qing's gaze didn't leave the figure that was about to turn around, and she quickly stepped forward to catch up with Cheng Xinglang.
She asked directly, "Do you know anything about Xu Mingyuan?"
She remembered that Cheng Xinglang had mentioned before that he and Xu Mingyuan were alumni and had interacted with each other.
His answer was straightforward: "I don't know."
Zhu Qing pursed her lips, still unwilling to give up, and asked, "Is Dr. Cheng going to the 10th anniversary symposium of the Medical Association?"
"I will not participate."
The light in Zhu Qing's eyes dimmed slightly.
Cheng Xinglang had already taken two steps when he suddenly stopped.
“Should we visit Professor Yang from the Department of Psychology at HKU?” he asked. “He should be very familiar with Xu Mingyuan.”
Zhu Qing's lips unconsciously curved into a small smile: "It's a deal."
...
When Zhu Qing went upstairs, in the CID office, Weng Zhaolin had regained the irritability he had shown a few days earlier.
The case, which had been finally closed, has now been reopened. The fact that Mo Zhenbang led a team to search Xu Mingyuan's psychological clinic is enough to attract media attention.
The voices of public opinion piled up, but the young people in the group didn't care, and Mo Zhenbang didn't care either.
In the end, Inspector Ong had to shoulder everything alone.
Even though his superiors hinted that the case should be closed, Weng Zhaolin withstood the pressure.
"Please put in more effort and don't make things difficult for me."
"The arrangements for Repulse Bay..." someone whispered a reminder.
That's the Peninsula Hotel's private chef team; it would be a real shame to miss it.
But with the weekend fast approaching, it's clear they won't get a day off.
"The weekend is canceled..." Hao Zai coughed lightly, "Can we make it up after the case is closed?"
Weng Zhaolin: ...
Inviting everyone to dinner was originally just a casual idea.
Anyway, his wife's younger brother was getting married and had to taste the food at the banquet. There was a table full of delicacies that his family couldn't finish.
However, if the case is closed and then the missing documents are added later, the person will have to pay for it out of their own pocket.
Do they know how expensive it is to hire the Peninsula Hotel's private chef team?
He wiped the sweat from his brow: "Stop talking nonsense."
As soon as Weng Zhaolin finished speaking, he left without giving anyone a chance to bargain.
Mo Zhenbang chuckled as he looked at the dejected young police officers.
“I’ll handle Inspector Ong,” he continued. “You guys solve the case first, and we can discuss everything else.”
Everyone joked, "Is Inspector Mo trying to coax a child? He's using the Peninsula Hotel's private chef's feast as a carrot dangling in front of them. If Weng Zhaolin still doesn't agree in the end, won't they be at a huge loss?"
Mo Zhenbang: "What carrot? This is called incentive."
A burst of laughter erupted in the office.
Inside the police station, although there was pressure, the atmosphere was not oppressive.
Every new clue that emerges, every step forward in the investigation, invigorates the officers.
The suspects were cunning and left no direct evidence, but they remained convinced that the case would be solved.
Those who break the law will eventually be punished by law.
...
When Zhu Qing returned home, Sheng Fang was already waiting by the door.
Fangfang leaned against the door frame with one hand, her neck stretched out long, but when she met her niece's eyes, she put one hand in her pocket and regained her carefree demeanor.
Aunt Ping laughed from the side, "Young master, your little ears have been glued to the door all night, just waiting to hear your footsteps when you come back."
"I just heard the elevator door open, and he 'whoosh' opened it and stood here waiting for you."
"Welcome home."
Whenever Zhu Qing gets busy, she leaves early and returns late.
Almost every day, Fangfang waits from the moment she gets out of school until her niece comes home, by which time the flowers have almost withered.
But today seems different.
When Zhu Qing arrived, he wasn't as lively as usual; he just stood there with a smug look on his face.
Shengfang remained silent, one hand behind her back, a cute smile playing on her lips, her small dimples appearing and disappearing.
Zhu Qing raised an eyebrow: "What's hidden behind you?"
Shengfang slightly raised her chin, her expression full of pride.
A small hand slid out from behind—
"What is this?" Zhu Qing asked, her eyes wide.
"A certificate!" Sheng Fang exclaimed proudly. "It was an award certificate given to me by Teacher Ji!"
The child who was born received a certificate.
What he didn't know was that during lunch, he was practicing drumming by banging on the bowls and plates, which was so noisy that Teacher Ji was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The teaching assistant suggested this idea to appease the child by giving him a certificate of merit.
Even if Fangfang knew, he would still be certain that he deserved the award.
because--
"An award for eating everything at every meal?" Zhu Qing read aloud the words on the certificate. "That's amazing!"
Shengfang grinned, revealing her tiny white teeth.
He finishes every meal, setting a good example for all the children in his class.
This honor is well-deserved!
Zhu Qing held the certificate and examined it carefully: "Aunt Ping, do you have any glue?"
"Yes, yes," Aunt Ping said with a smile. "I'll go get it right away."
The little boy followed slowly behind his niece, knowing full well what she was doing, and asked, "What are you doing?"
“Put it on the wall!” Zhu Qing said.
The young master pretended to be indifferent: "Qingzai is so old-fashioned."
However, despite saying that, the uncle still followed his niece closely, watching how she pasted the stickers.
Sheng Fang was surprised when Zhu Qing took the glue from Aunt Ping, turned and went straight into her own bedroom.
In Zhu Qing's bedroom, the table lamp cast a dim, warm light.
She sat at her desk and carefully applied glue to the four corners of the certificate.
Zhu Qing moved very gently, smoothing the edges of the certificate with her fingers.
Finally, she stood up and gestured the position on the wall next to the desk.
"Aunt Ping, is it crooked like this?"
"A little higher, a little to the left...that's it!"
Zhu Qing carefully pasted the certificate on the wall.
This is a certificate in full bloom, and it belongs to her.
The first honor gained from raising a genius little villain!
The room was bathed in warm light, and Fangfang would run in every now and then to take a look.
Every time the baby comes out, his face is rosy.
Qingzai seems to really like me!
...
The child was rewarded for having a certificate that said "I finish all my food at every meal".
Qingzai is going to take him to the University of Hong Kong.
Dr. Cheng came to pick them up early Saturday morning.
Shengfang went downstairs with her little schoolbag on her back and a small water bottle hanging around her neck.
Aunt Ping even washed and cut the fruit for them, making it seem like the uncle and nephew were going on a picnic.
Cheng Xinglang sat in the driver's seat and heard the sound of the rear door opening, but his expression remained unchanged.
The two of them always treated him like a driver; this was the third time already, and he was used to it.
"Good morning." When Dr. Cheng turned around, the little devil handed her a bright red cherry.
"It's very sweet."
Cheng Xinglang took the cherries, completely won over: "Let's go."
Traffic jams are common on Pok Fu Lam Road. While waiting, the children chatted curiously with Dr. Cheng.
Even now, he still doesn't fully understand whether they went to investigate a case or to have fun.
But after learning that the destination was Dr. Cheng's alma mater, Fangfang straightened her back.
"My alma mater and Ching-tsai's alma mater is Wong Chuk Hang Police Academy."
Zhu Qing lowered her head, organizing the questions in her notebook.
Cheng Xinglang contacted a professor in the Department of Psychology at the University of Hong Kong in advance. She did not want to take up the professor's time and had to ensure that her questions were accurate.
Hearing Fangfang's words, she looked up and said, "Your alma mater is Weston Kindergarten."
Shengfang patted Qingzai on the shoulder: "Alright, you go ahead with your work."
Cheng Xinglang chuckled: "Have you heard of a juvenile police academy?"
The young master of the Sheng family is very knowledgeable and there is almost nothing he has never been exposed to.
But now, he heard a new word.
Junior Police Academy!
"You mean, you can apply to the disciplined forces at fifteen?"
Shengfang listened with shining eyes, her heart filled with anticipation.
He can do math; he doesn't need to count on his fingers to know that in eleven and a half years, he can apply to the Junior Police Academy!
“The juvenile police academy is known for its hellish physical training,” Cheng Xinglang continued. “The final graduation test consists of nighttime walking and solo survival.”
Sheng Fang's eyes shone brightly as she spoke, each word distinct and deliberate: "I...am...not...afraid!"
Cheng Xinglang: "However, the juvenile police academy has been discontinued."
A few question marks floated through Fangfang's little head.
Zhu Qing gently patted her uncle's back, trying to calm him down before he could react.
Cheng Xinglang looked at the child's sullen face through the rearview mirror.
The little devil puffed out his cheeks, clenched his chubby hands into fists, squinted his eyes, and gestured a couple of times.
The car stopped at the entrance of HKU, and registration was required to enter the campus.
Professor Yang had given prior notice, and Cheng Xinglang took the registration book that the gatekeeper handed to the car window and signed his name.
Who are these two?
"Colleagues and—"
“Uncle,” Sheng Fang said, puffing out her chest.
The baby was very proud of himself.
Now we've gotten our money's worth!
They drove into the HKU campus and parked in the parking lot outside the main building.
The young master peeked out, looking at the century-old banyan tree, and urged Qingzai to hurry up after getting out of the car.
"Wait a minute." Zhu Qing's cell phone suddenly rang.
Cheng Xinglang and the children stood outside the car waiting.
"Should we go to the convenience store?" Dr. Cheng asked.
As he stepped into the convenience store, the young master said in a childish voice, "I didn't bring any money."
“No problem.” Cheng Xinglang handed him a small shopping basket.
Zhu Qing remained in the car, answering Zeng Yongshan's call.
"Are you at HKU? Help me confirm one thing—"
“Yesterday, when Inspector Mo searched Xu Mingyuan’s mental health clinic, he claimed that suicide is common among patients with severe depression and had nothing to do with him. However, we discovered a crucial clue: Ding Panxiang, Wang Yingtong, Deng Qiaorong, and You Minmin all died on Tuesdays, which was a regular occurrence.”
Zhu Qing's gaze passed over the banyan tree and landed on the convenience store.
Over the phone, the case information gradually became clear, and she quickly jotted it down in her notebook.
“I’ll ask Professor Yang,” she said, “to see if he can provide any clues about Mingyuan’s background.”
The call ended fifteen minutes later.
Zhu Qing had just closed her notebook when she glanced out the window and saw the children had gained a lot.
He had a HKU Student Union commemorative badge pinned to his chest; I don't know what it was for, but I just wore it anyway.
He was holding three dinosaur eggs in each of his left and right hands; those were chocolate ball toys.
Fangfang opened the car door, smiling broadly—
I'm back from my escapades, Ching-jai!
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