Chapter 23 The Champion of Nonsense.
The child's face was scrunched up like a little meat bun filled with chili peppers, indicating a lot of internal heat.
Can someone who doesn't cooperate with the police be a good person?
Arrest them! Take them back for questioning and they'll behave.
Zhu Qing's gaze swept over Zhou Meilian's face once again.
That day, she and Mo Zhenbang arrived in Sham Shui Po and saw the corpse "sitting" in front of the breakfast stall table. They subconsciously thought of the massacre of the Zeng family in the original storyline. However, their serious crime unit often dealt with murder cases, and even if this case was heinous, it might not necessarily be related to the original storyline. At the time, Zhu Qing's suspicion was just a casual guess.
However, now she heard the evening news broadcast on television. Zhu Qing didn't have a pager; once she left the police station, her colleagues and superiors would have absolutely no way to contact her unless she called home. That afternoon, she and Sheng Fang had taken three hours off to go to the Sheng family home to discuss the will, but unexpectedly, the police station received a new call—
Another male corpse has been found inside an abandoned tenement building in Mong Kok.
Rainy day and serial murders—these two keywords immediately locked onto the memories in Zhu Qing's mind.
This is a case that appeared in the original storyline.
As for the woman in red... Zhu Qing's gaze passed over Zhou Meilian and lingered for a moment behind her.
The red clothes were nothing special, but after learning that there was a second victim in the case and confirming that it was a serial murder case, she stopped suspecting the other party.
Zhou Meilian is too thin and small.
How could someone who was just over 1.5 meters tall and weighed no more than 90 kilograms possibly subdue a 1.8-meter-tall deceased person in that breakfast stall? Of course, it's not impossible for someone who is thin to be strong, but Zhu Qing's mind was once again filled with the most useless intuition that Mo Sir had mentioned.
Zhou Meilian was afraid.
It wasn't fear of the murder; this unease was solely related to Feng Yaowen.
My uncle is still just a baby.
He had no idea what the adults were thinking. He simply used his little hands to hold the door open for his niece, making it easier for her to handle her case. The child didn't even realize that he was so small that even if he held the door open, he posed no threat to Zhou Meilian. If she were to slam the door shut, he would be sent flying.
"Who is it?" came an impatient man's voice from inside the house. "You keep banging on the door, can't you let a person get any sleep?"
Zhu Qing then noticed that someone was lying on the sofa.
From her angle, she could see the top of his thinning head. Clearly, the man had been sleeping on the sofa with the TV on, woken by the noise outside, and was still grumpy. Zhou Meilian's haste to close the door was also because of him.
"who are they?"
The man sized up the two people standing by the door.
Zhou Meilian's face flushed red, and she finally managed to squeeze out a sentence: "This madam is here about Feng Yaowen's matter."
The man frowned, then twitched his lips, revealing a faint, mocking expression.
After giving Zhou Meilian a meaningful look, he turned back, plopped down on the sofa, and turned up the TV volume.
Zhou Meilian's expression changed, and she said helplessly, "Go ahead and ask."
Zhou Meilian divorced last year, and then remarried her current husband in the first half of this year.
The last time I saw my ex-husband was last year. They had gone through divorce proceedings then. After all, they had a son together, so it was a relatively amicable separation.
"I haven't seen him since the divorce."
"He probably doesn't have any enemies. He's a stubborn person, but even if he offends someone, it's usually just a verbal argument. How could it escalate to murder..."
Feng Yaowen was a chauvinist, and Zhou Meilian had to take care of him perfectly at home. When she discovered his infidelity, she could no longer tolerate it and mustered up the courage to file for divorce.
As the party at fault in the marriage, Feng Yaowen didn't haggle over the division of property. Zhou Meilian received a sum of money, and not long after, she met her current husband. He was very considerate at the time, so she decided to remarry.
“I was definitely sleeping at home early yesterday morning; my husband can vouch for that.” At this point, Zhou Meilian asked in surprise, “Madam, do you suspect I killed Yaowen?”
"It's just a routine matter."
As she finished speaking, Zhu Qing mentioned their son, Feng Junming.
“Junming rarely comes here, no, it’s not very convenient… We usually meet at the ice cream parlor where he works, which is in Central.”
“They do argue often, but they are father and son after all, and Junming would never kill him!”
At first, she lowered her voice and glanced back every now and then to make sure her husband hadn't heard her, but when she mentioned her son, Zhou Meilian's tone immediately became agitated and her face turned pale.
When her second husband stood up, his face darkening with displeasure, her lips twitched, and she turned away in embarrassment.
"In short, Junming won't kill anyone," she added softly.
Zhou Meilian saw the news of her ex-husband's murder on the news.
Even with her face blurred, she recognized that old shop in Sham Shui Po. She'd seen that scene on the news; she was tidying up the dishes, nearly dropping a porcelain bowl, and barely managed to straighten it at the table. Her second husband, however, merely glanced at her and asked how much the shop was worth.
Zhou Meilian showed great courage in resolutely leaving her first marriage, but later she unwittingly jumped from one fire pit to another. Now she has nothing to say, she only hopes that the police can clear her son of suspicion as soon as possible in this case.
Zhu Qing and her uncle did not enter the house.
After asking the questions, they turned to leave, when suddenly they heard Zhou Meilian call out to them from behind.
"Madam!"
"Is it possible that your colleague has already found Junming?"
When Zhu Qing and the child left the police station, her colleagues had not yet been able to contact Feng Junming.
But half a day has passed, and perhaps the progress of the case investigation has been updated.
Once outside, Shengfang said, "So we really should buy a pager, right?"
The police station corridors were always filled with the sounds of pagers, but Zhu Qing's waistband was always empty. In the workplace, communication tools were indeed very useful for facilitating contact between colleagues.
She even considered that maybe one day BB would become a necessary piece of equipment, and she could apply for it from the finance department.
To everyone's surprise, the police station didn't equip all the officers with pagers; instead, it was her wealthy and powerful uncle who couldn't stand it anymore.
"Qingzai, pick one that glows!"
Zhu Qing knew that the little one was rolling in money.
However, that astonishing balance is all in a bank account.
"I have money."
"You don't."
"I have!"
The next second, the child put down his backpack, waved his little hand boldly, and opened the zipper.
When the child was at the Sheng family's house, he went upstairs once.
At that time, Zhu Qing was discussing the application for guardianship with her lawyer when she noticed him running up the stairs, one floor at a time. She thought he was reluctant to leave his home and was taking his favorite toys with him.
Little did anyone know, the young master of the Sheng family went back to loot "gold and silver jewelry".
Now, his backpack is filled with cash, stacks and stacks.
He's incredibly wealthy.
He actually hopped around with this backpack the whole way?
“I know the safe’s combination,” Sheng Fang said proudly.
Amidst the bustling crowds, Madam Zhu closed her backpack as quickly as possible.
"Can we go buy a pager now?" the young master asked excitedly.
...
The Sheng family case has been closed for several days, and the reading of the will has also been completed.
Zhu Qing submitted an application to the court for custody of her uncle. Her lawyer said that the application was unlikely to be rejected. Life needed to return to normal; she couldn't bring her child to work every day. Her colleagues at the police station with babies were also managing to balance family and work—who has a kid running around in the CID room every day?
In this respect, Shengfang was experienced, and the young master immediately found a nanny for himself without saying a word.
The Filipino maid Marissa ran away, but there were still people in the house who hadn't left. After some discussion, they came up with the best candidate.
Aunt Ping never expected that she would suddenly find a new job.
Her job was simple: once the young master started kindergarten, she would be responsible for his pick-up and drop-off. As for anything else, she hadn't received any instructions yet, but she guessed that she probably wouldn't need to live with the "uncle and nephew"... After all, it was clear that Madam didn't like being disturbed, and it was already a huge favor that the young master was willing to live with her.
Zhu Qing asked—
How much does it cost to hire a nanny?
The baby shrugged, not telling her.
Although he has no idea, it must be a bit expensive, so it's better for the child not to know.
Zhu Qing used the night to get the important matter of taking care of the child settled, and the next morning, Aunt Ping came to hand over the shift on time.
A few days ago, the little boy gradually adapted to the "high-intensity" pace of minibus rides, and by the later stages, he was quite at ease. The child, not yet four years old, wobbled like a little penguin, his chubby hands still clinging to Zhu Qing's clothes, unable to maintain his balance. When the bus braked suddenly, he braked just as suddenly, his head being cushioned by his niece's palm to prevent him from being seriously injured. Other passengers found the child's adorable appearance so endearing that on every trip, someone would stand up to offer him a seat. At these times, Sheng Fang would always stand beside the seat, beckoning her niece over and calling out in her sweet little voice, "There's a seat!"
Now, the child is no longer with Zhu Qing.
It's very quiet.
As the minibus rounded the bend, it suddenly braked, prompting a few complaints from the passengers.
As Zhu Qing gripped the handle and her body swayed violently, she suddenly remembered the lunchbox she had brought. The lunchbox contained today's lunch; she and Sheng Fang had gotten their food just as the cafeteria was about to close last night, and she didn't know if it had spilled.
Zhu Qing opened her bag and took out a lunchbox.
Her first thought was that something was wrong; the lunchbox was too light, so light that it felt like it weighed only as much as the box itself. She opened it with a "snap," and the food was gone, replaced by some cash.
I don't know when the child did it this morning; he even washed the lunchbox...
However, it wasn't rinsed clean enough and was still oily.
Hidden beneath the neatly folded cash was a colorful sticky note. Shengfang's Chinese lessons hadn't been in vain; he recognized simple characters and remembered how to write them, though he couldn't remember them all. His writing was crooked, with strokes that were either too many or too few, making it difficult to decipher.
On this colorful sticky note, three large characters stand out prominently—
Eat well!
The young master told her to eat better, and drew an ugly, greedy little figure next to her.
A faint smile appeared on Zhu Qing's lips as she closed the lunchbox lid again.
...
Zhu Qing was used to arriving early, and when she entered the criminal investigation team's office, her other colleagues hadn't arrived yet. She went to the break room to pour herself a glass of water, returned to her workstation, and took out the work schedule for next month that Zeng Yongshan had given her earlier.
The original storyline mentioned that the Zeng family was murdered on a rainy night, and the original female lead happened to be on duty that day.
Zhu Qing didn't know the weather forecast for the next period of time, but she could remember Zeng Yongshan's duty dates. She drew a mark on the calendar that only she could understand, put down her pen, and since it was still early, she reached into her pocket.
Colleagues arrived at work one after another. Zeng Yongshan and Haozai arrived just in time and bumped into Liang Qikai, who was coming out of the restaurant, as soon as they entered the police station.
"Don't move!" Haozai raised his hand and snatched the paper-wrapped cake from his hand. "It's confiscated!"
Zeng Yongshan muttered to herself, "The cafeteria lady is so biased. She dotes on Liang Sir so much that she gave him a serving of the new dishes she developed."
"Everyone who sees it gets a share." Liang Qikai laughed. "Sister Xiao also said she'll make fried wontons next time."
"Wow, firsthand information! Everyone gets a share, you hear me?" Zeng Yongshan spread her hands towards Haozai, "Give me a little."
The soft cake base melts on the tongue, its sweetness both simple and unique. It's the perfect match, just missing a cup of iced milk tea.
"Don't you guys think this paper-wrapped cake tastes a bit like the Ah Wah Cafe in Central?"
"Could it be that Feng Junming came to the police station to report yesterday and was caught by the restaurant lady, who then tried to learn his skills from him?"
Yesterday afternoon, Haozai finally caught the son of the deceased Feng Yaowen.
Fung Chun-ming usually works as a waiter at Ah Wah Cafe in Central. Last night, after finishing his night shift, he went out with a group of friends in Lan Kwai Fong until dawn, then went home and fell asleep immediately. When he woke up, he learned that his father had been murdered. He rushed to Yau Ma Tei Police Station to complete the formalities and was then taken to the mortuary to identify the body.
Feng Junming saw Feng Yaowen's body with his own eyes.
Outsiders described the father-son relationship as extremely tense. But when his biological father lay before him, he still couldn't accept it; his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.
Later, the police took his statement, and Feng Junming had a solid alibi for the time of Feng Yaowen's murder. His friends in Lan Kwai Fong could all testify for him.
Feng Junming could not be the murderer.
"Another dead end," Zeng Yongshan sighed. "After checking everything, we're back to square one."
“And there’s that case in Mong Kok—” Hao Zai said, “I heard from Ah Tou that they had a meeting last night, and it might be a serial murder case.”
"It's been broadcast on the news, reminding citizens to be careful when traveling at night."
Liang Qikai: "It would be best if this ended here...don't—"
"Pah, pah, pah!" Zeng Yongshan quickly said, "You jinx!"
The three chatted all the way, but when they entered the office, they suddenly stopped. Haozai put his finger to his lips and even his steps became furtive.
"Shh..."
All three of them looked toward Zhu Qing's workstation at the same time.
It's the height of summer, the sun is scorching, and the road outside the police station is burning hot.
But as soon as I stepped into the police station, the air conditioning came down, and all the stuffiness and irritability in my heart seemed to disappear without a trace in an instant.
Zhu Qing sat by the window, sunlight streaming in through the blinds and falling obliquely on her.
The light was so bright it was almost blinding, yet it also had a strangely refreshing quality.
Zhu Qing lowered her eyes, fiddling with a small toy in her hand.
Sunlight fell on her eyelashes, casting fine shadows on her porcelain-white cheeks.
She studied the buttons on the gadget in her hand very carefully, tapping them lightly with her fingertips, without even looking up when she heard footsteps.
Like a child who has received a new toy.
This is the pager that the little one insisted on taking Zhu Qing to the electronics store to buy last night.
Unlike digital pagers, Chinese pagers can display Chinese characters on their screens, making them more popular and also more expensive. Shengfang waved her hand dismissively, paying without a second thought, as it was her first time giving her niece a gift, and she wanted to choose something good.
At this time, Zhu Qing was learning how to use her new pager.
Before leaving, they agreed to go to the Jianuoan Sanatorium in the evening. Even though it was already arranged, the nagging little one still reminded them. The "beep beep beep" sound was the child sending a signal to his niece.
"Bought a new pager?" Zeng Yongshan strode in. "Give me the number!"
Zhu Qing wrote down her new phone number.
"I want one too." Haozai pushed the small piece of paper over.
Liang Qikai also laughed and said, "Count me in."
A large crowd had gathered in front of Zhu Qing's workstation.
She kept her head down, writing down her pager number over and over again. When she looked up, she met the gentle gaze of the original male lead.
Zeng Yongshan noticed his expression out of the corner of her eye and turned her gaze away.
At the same time, Mo Zhenbang, holding a stack of files, knocked on the conference room door: "Is everyone here? Let's start the meeting."
...
Yesterday afternoon, also near the end of the workday, the police received another report.
The weather has been unpredictable lately. A cleaning lady was pulling her scrap cart past an abandoned tenement building in Mong Kok when it suddenly started to rain.
She grumbled as she went inside to take shelter from the rain, brushing the rain off her clothes as she backed away. Suddenly, she kicked something, tripped, and turned around to find that it was a sitting corpse.
"The second victim, Zhang Zhiqiang, was 43 years old and worked as the front office manager at the Xinjing Hotel."
"When the cleaning lady found the body, it was in a sitting position with one leg bent. The eyebrows had been removed, the lips were painted with bright lipstick, and the cheeks were covered with exaggerated blush."
"The forensic department examined the lipsticks on the lips of the two deceased and found that both the color and the production batch number were the same."
Photos of the crime scene were posted on the whiteboard.
The only difference was that when Feng Yaowen was found, he was sitting at a table, and the bloodstains underneath had already dried.
That was the blood he shed when he fiercely resisted and was attacked by the murderer with a blunt object nearby.
Yesterday, less than an hour after the second body was discovered, the General Administration notified the authorities to convene an emergency meeting. The meeting room was filled with smoke as the two murders were combined into a serial killing case, and a special task force was established to investigate.
"In both cases, there were no signs that the bodies had been moved, and both were the primary crime scenes."
"Both victims resisted fiercely when they were killed. Feng Yaowen, the owner of the breakfast shop, was physically strong and worked hard in the shop, kneading dozens of kilograms of dough by hand... while Zhang Zhiqiang, dressed in a suit and sitting in an office, was no match for the murderer."
The superiors began to exert pressure again, and when they learned of the so-called deadline for solving the case, the meeting room fell silent.
This second heinous murder is very likely the work of the same killer. If a third similar murder were to occur...
Mo Zhenbang: "Will everyone hand over their sidearms then?"
Everyone understood the priorities and no one laughed along with him.
The dull thud of leather shoes heels hitting the floor echoed again, coming from the other end of the corridor, growing closer.
It was obvious that Inspector Ong had come again.
Mo Zhenbang cleared his throat—
"Please note that, according to the preliminary procedures, we will investigate the background of the second victim."
"Hao-zai, go to the homes of the two victims separately and see what you find. Pay special attention to Zhang Zhiqiang's home, especially his wife, and investigate their marital relationship."
"Jiale, focus on investigating the shared movements of Feng Yaowen and Zhang Zhiqiang over the past six months."
"Yongshan and Qikai went to the hotel's HR department to check the shift schedule and see the list of guests that Manager Zhang last served."
“Uncle Li, Dr. Cheng just called. The autopsy report is out. Go to the forensic department to confirm it.” After he finished speaking, his gaze swept over Zhu Qing, who was organizing the case files. “Zhu Qing, come along too. You can record the details of the two reports.”
As Inspector Weng stepped into the meeting room, Mo Zhenbang made a closing statement.
Meeting adjourned.
The officers exchanged glances discreetly.
Although it's annoying enough, wouldn't it be disrespectful to the senior inspector to leave now?
With a "bang," the sound of the folding chair being put away was heard.
Zhu Qing received it.
She looked up while holding the documents: ?
Why is everyone looking here?
...
In the forensic office, Uncle Li and Zhu Qing pulled out chairs from in front of the desk and sat down.
I don't know if it's the atmosphere of the morgue downstairs, but the air conditioning here seems to be blowing even louder.
Dr. Cheng placed two neatly bound reports in front of them.
"The detailed autopsy reports for Feng Yaowen and Zhang Zhiqiang." He lightly tapped the bottom of the report with his well-defined fingers. "These are the preliminary conclusions."
"There were obvious circular ligature marks on the neck, indicating death by mechanical asphyxiation. The murder weapon was likely an electrical wire or a climbing rope."
"Zhang Zhiqiang died between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m., only one day later than Feng Yaowen was murdered, and even less than 24 hours later."
Uncle Li clicked his tongue: "A serial killer, how arrogant. Is he trying to provoke the police?"
As soon as he finished speaking, he tapped the desk lightly, placing the two autopsy reports side by side for comparison.
Uncle Li's brows furrowed even deeper as he asked, "Did they all attack from behind?"
Not a single fiber was left on the necks of the two victims; the killer was wearing gloves and was clearly very careful.
But the ligature marks don't lie. When the murderer exerts force from behind, the murder weapon will tighten diagonally upwards, causing the ligature marks to show an upward pulling angle.
Meanwhile, the bruises on the back of the victim's neck were made deeper because the perpetrator's elbow was pressed against the victim's back.
Zhu Qing suddenly leaned forward, her hair falling to the edge of the photo.
She looked at the height of the ligature marks on the autopsy photos and whispered, "The killer's dominant hand was his right hand."
“That’s right.” Dr. Cheng stopped twirling his pen and suddenly asked, “Inspector Li, do you remember the case at the container factory last year? The angle of the ligature marks is almost identical to this one.”
"Container factory?"
"The victim was a middle-aged man who was strangled from behind and died of asphyxiation. When the forensic team was collecting physical evidence at the scene, they found a small knife. After investigation, it was determined that it was not the murder weapon, but a cosmetic product."
Zhu Qing pondered for a moment and said, "An eyebrow razor?"
"I remember now!" Uncle Li suddenly slapped his thigh. "It was also in the early hours of the morning when someone suddenly came in and almost saw the murderer with his own eyes. But the murderer was cunning and knew the factory area like the back. He escaped through the back gate of the container factory. The case is still unsolved."
"I should keep the clippings."
Dr. Cheng got up and walked to the filing cabinet against the wall.
As he reached up to take down the top-level folder, Zhu Qing saw a corner of a handheld game console peeking out of his white coat pocket, with specially customized metal buttons and a limited edition number faintly visible on the side.
She couldn't tell the model number, but Shengfang said yesterday that this handheld console was a limited edition that was hard to buy. Little Dot had seen it on TV once and had been wanting it for a long time, but she couldn't explain the model of the game console before, nor did she know where to ask the maid to queue up, so she could only worry anxiously.
Dr. Cheng used it to play Tetris and fought his way to the end.
Dr. Cheng opened the folder.
The folder contained clippings of numerous cases, organized by year and specific date. He looked like the kind of person who would hum a tune on the autopsy table, but in reality, he was incredibly meticulous, cutting reports into small squares and pasting them without a single wrinkle. It makes sense; forensic pathologists wield scalpels, and when they switch to using a utility knife, the incisions they make are equally precise.
"here."
Following Dr. Cheng's gaze, Zhu Qing's eyes lingered on the clipping: "Rainy night?"
"If this case is related to the two cases that occurred this year..."
"Wasn't the deceased given makeup because there wasn't enough time?"
It was a rainy night a year ago.
The murderer was almost discovered, leaving behind only an unfinished "ritual".
"Thank you, Dr. Cheng." Uncle Li suddenly stood up, the old swivel chair making a noisy swaying sound as it was pushed.
Dr. Cheng nodded slightly: "I hope this can help you."
"Zhu Qing." Uncle Li made a decisive gesture. "Go to the archives and look through the old cases. Maybe the Wenji Breakfast Shop case is not the starting point."
Zhu Qing hurriedly followed Uncle Li out the door, and as she was about to close the office door behind her, she heard a "beep beep" sound behind her. She turned around and saw the forensic doctor already nestled in his swivel chair, his long legs casually propped up, his fingertips dancing across the buttons of his handheld game console.
His desk was a mess, as if a typhoon had passed through, and he seemed nonchalant, yet the autopsy report contained extremely precise and detailed analytical data.
"Uncle Li," Zhu Qing asked, "Dr. Cheng keeps so many case clippings, is it also for work purposes?"
Zhu Qing was somewhat puzzled, and her gaze happened to sweep over the metal sign outside the office—
Cheng Xinglang, Senior Forensic Pathologist.
"Him..." Uncle Li paused, then remembered he was in a hurry to get to the archives, but continued walking. "I'll tell you another day."
...
Uncle Li took Zhu Qing to the archives to greet the archivist, then made an excuse to slip away. As a newcomer, he couldn't avoid mundane tasks like spending an afternoon in the archives dealing with long-forgotten cases.
Case files cannot be taken out of the police station, so Zhu Qing borrowed them and brought them back to her workstation. Before leaving get off work, she quickly looked through them and copied some useful information into her notebook.
By the time I left work, I still hadn't made any progress, and my pager had started ringing.
Zhu Qing could imagine that the young master had been watching the clock all day, and when it finally reached five o'clock in the afternoon, he immediately became restless. However, she did not expect that as soon as she stepped out of the police station, she would see this familiar figure.
"Uncle's here to pick you up—" Little Uncle tilted his head, giving his niece a surprise.
Aunt Ping followed behind Sheng Fang and stepped forward: "I told you you're busy with work and I shouldn't bother you... Young Master insisted on coming. He said you're going to the sanatorium to visit Miss later."
After a pause, she added nervously, "I thought it was on the way, so I brought the young master to you."
In the past, when Aunt Ping was in the Sheng family, she had to ask the master's opinion before doing anything and dared not make decisions on her own.
Now that she's changed jobs, she's afraid of offending her new employer. Then she overhears her son saying that he's the one who pays her salary, and she's even more at a loss for what to do.
Fortunately, her uncle and niece were both kind and didn't make things difficult for Aunt Ping.
She dropped the young master off and breathed a sigh of relief. Although she didn't have to clock in, her work for the day was done, and she could go home.
As she turned around, Aunt Ping looked at their elongated shadows in the afterglow of the setting sun.
For a long time, the young master always put on airs and acted like a mature adult... As far as I can remember, I have never seen him rely on anyone so much.
After such a major upheaval in the Sheng family, two people who originally had no connection were forcibly brought together.
Yet they seemed to rely on each other, becoming each other's comfort.
...
After Aunt Ping left, Sheng Fang transformed from a cool young man into a talkative and garrulous kid.
"We had egg noodles for lunch!"
"Aunt Ping said that the food in the cafeteria is not as good as what she cooks herself."
"Later we went back to the hillside to tidy up the toys."
The dormitory at the Wong Chuk Hang Police Academy was so small that Sheng Fang suspected he couldn't even roll around a few times on the concrete floor.
The child, who had been thinking about his toys day and night, couldn't resist packing some small items into his schoolbag.
“Ultraman figurines, Iron Man figures…” Whenever Shengfang wanted to ask for praise, she would tilt her head up, her chubby little face blinking, and say, “They’re all small.”
Zhu Qing used to always feel a sense of peace and tranquility, and she enjoyed that peace and tranquility.
But now, it's as if a hundred little sparrows are chirping and chattering in her ears.
The little sparrows in my ear are fighting, hands on their hips.
Only the winner can claim the trophy for the "Nonsense Champion".
"The lightsaber is huge, so big."
"Ultraman's mask needs batteries, Qingzai definitely doesn't."
"I brought a dessert cart model, and it sings!"
The sound of a snack cart singing is played.
Shrimp dumplings, siu mai, and chicken feet!
"Crispy custard buns, char siu buns..."
The child spoke in a disjointed manner.
Zhu Qing had seen the young master's dim sum cart model, which could make hawking sounds, and the shrimp dumplings and siu mai could be disassembled, which was very amazing.
Kids will be kids; their eyes light up when they talk about these things.
"I didn't bring the Lego castle, it's too big," the young master said.
Just as Zhu Qing was about to speak, he added something else.
“It’s bigger than your steamer,” he sighed.
"..." Zhu Qing asked, "Where are the toys?"
Shengfang looked down and examined her two little hands.
Then touch the shoulders with both little hands.
Where are his toys? Dolls, figurines, die-cast cars...
It was packed into a small schoolbag and carried by Aunt Ping the whole way. Now Aunt Ping has brought it back to the mountainside!
The young master's mouth gaped open, slightly on the verge of collapse.
Zhu Qing raised her eyebrows, a slight smile curving her lips, and turned to look out the window.
The baby's sweet voice rang in my ears again.
"Qingzai, go see a house with a real estate agent after get off work tomorrow."
The lawyers have taken inventory of the Sheng family's properties.
Whether it's a house under Sheng Wenchang's name or Sheng Peirong's name, they can live there. But Zhu Qing had seen the list and realized that the houses that rich people like to buy are always in some flashy but impractical locations. You have to walk several blocks to find a minibus, and the transportation convenience is not as good as Huangzhukeng.
Moreover, the house is very large.
With multiple layers inside and outside, a front garden and a back garden, it's not suitable for just the two of them to live in.
"You still schedule appointments with real estate agents?"
"Aunt Ping helped!"
The minibus moved along, stopping and starting, its manual doors creaking as they opened and closed.
Zhu Qing gazed at the street scene outside the window, knowing clearly what the next stop, the next stop after that, and the stop after that were, but she always felt that something was quietly changing.
Compared to the unchanging life of the past, there is now more anticipation in our daily lives.
Someone is waiting for her.
There was the mischievous child who would cause her trouble, and the mother sleeping quietly in the hospital bed.
Although she knew Sheng Peirong wouldn't wake up, and although getting to the Jianuoan Sanatorium would take a lot of time, Zhu Qing was happy.
It's as if there's still hope.
...
The young master is a natural-born clever fellow, knowing full well that talking is useless when one's abilities are insufficient. But if he brings his bank account balance before speaking, he can immediately enjoy the ultimate service experience.
When Aunt Ping helped them arrange a viewing of the apartment, the real estate agent approached them mysteriously and told them that the building he recommended had a great view, faced south, was only a five-minute walk from the police station, and offered a view of the sunset every day!
This sounds like an absolutely amazing property development!
Although the little one doesn't understand why we need to watch the sunset...
After visiting his elder sister, he took his niece back to the sweltering heat, where they were steaming in front of the electric fan.
"Is Manager Wang good at bragging?" he wondered seriously.
On the desk lay a pile of documents. Zhu Qing was always organized, and the documents at her workstation in the police station were always neatly arranged. But at this moment, the desk in the "steamer" was too small, so the documents were piled up one by one, and if you touched them, they might fall over with a crash.
As she pondered important life matters, her chubby little hands supported her cheeks, which were squeezed together like two little rice balls.
"I'm going to the cafeteria to get food. What do you want to eat?"
"hamburger."
"No hamburgers."
"fries?"
No fries.
"Frozen Lemonade!"
"The soda machine is broken."
What exactly is in this godforsaken place?
Shengfang puffed out her cheeks: "I'm not eating anymore."
The young master of the Sheng family is spoiled wherever he goes, except in this steamer.
After he finished speaking, his aloof niece grunted an "Mm" and turned away.
The uncle choked, and it took him a while to react before he started to sulk.
I'm ignoring her!
...
Zhu Qing was new to children and had no idea how to get along with them.
I don't know what's wrong with the kid, but when she went out, he had already turned his back, and his round little back looked like he was radiating anger.
"Is he going to face the wall in self-reflection?" Zhu Qing muttered to herself, closing the door behind her.
On her way to the cafeteria, she was also thinking about important matters.
Tenement buildings in Sham Shui Po, tenement buildings in Mong Kok, container factory... The three middle-aged men who were murdered were a breakfast shop owner, a hotel manager, and a container worker, respectively.
On the surface, the only thing the three victims had in common was that they were all around the same age.
If the case a year ago, where the victim didn't have time to be given a bizarre makeover, was the starting point of this serial murder case... why did the killer strike each time?
Perhaps it's a special date, or the weather.
Zhu Qing quickened her pace.
It started raining again, and the raindrops fell into the puddles, drip-drip-drip.
Rainy night...
In the original story, the four words "red dress in the rainy night" were clearly etched into Zhu Qing's mind.
Since the three victims had no obvious distinguishing features from their clothing when they were murdered, could the "red clothes" be the murderer's attire?
Perhaps that witness from a year ago saw something.
Zhu Qing hurried back to her dormitory.
She vaguely remembered that the eyewitness testimony in the case file she was looking through in the archives that afternoon contained the other party's sloppy handwriting.
It should be a phone number.
Did she copy it down?
With a click, Zhu Qing pushed open the door.
The child at the desk held his niece's pager in one hand and her notebook in the other.
The ink bottle, which had been opened at some point, was teetering on the edge of the table when the child nudged it back with his chubby chin.
The mischievous uncle got into trouble, and upon hearing his niece's footsteps, he immediately felt guilty.
He was flustered, his eyelashes were trembling, and his mind was completely blank.
If an ink bottle is poured on him, will he turn into a silly squid?
Zhu Qing panicked as the ink bottle was about to tip over, unsure whether to save the pager or the laptop first.
"Put it down first," she said, taking a quick step forward. "Put it down—"
Zhu Qing got stuck.
It's not suitable to put it anywhere; every corner of the desk is too dangerous.
The flowers bloom and children turn their heads.
He wasn't planning to talk to anyone, but...
My niece took the initiative to make up with him and even gave him a nickname.
Let it go!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com