Chapter 77 "No need to greet me."
The gentle sea breeze on Lamma Island caresses your face, setting the mood for a wonderful weekend for the kids.
But the pleasant time always comes too soon. Sheng Fang, who knows him best, guessed from the look on her face when she answered the phone that the vacation was over.
At this point, they had no choice but to set off back to the police station.
The children, who loved playing house in kindergarten, were still assigning themselves roles. He was immersed in the novelty of being a boss, and mimicking the tone of Inspector Mo and Inspector Ong, he gave an order, and "Subordinate Qing" and "Subordinate Le" obediently turned around to buy boat tickets.
While the two of them were buying tickets, little Shengfang stood alone to the side, intently blowing bubbles.
Golden sunlight shone on the little one.
He tilted his tender little face up, strained to stand on tiptoe, and held the bubble wand high in his hand. The azure sky, the clouds like cotton candy, seemed to puff out their cheeks, blowing a string of sparkling bubbles as if to send them soaring into the clouds.
Shengfang is like an innocent child, full of childlike fun, yet also possessing common sense. He had taken astronomy class and knew that no matter how hard he tried, these fragile bubbles would eventually burst in mid-air.
He stretched out his little hand, holding a bubble: "I wish I could take you home."
The sunlight gilded the bubbles with a shimmering glow.
The bubble in her hand burst again, and Shengfang stretched out her little hand to try to catch it again, suddenly becoming a little curious.
What will bubbles taste like?
Perhaps it's like a quilt that's been sun-dried, with an indescribable warmth.
Fangfang quietly opened her little mouth as she turned around.
My niece's voice suddenly came from behind me.
"Store it, but don't eat it."
Fangfang puffed out her cheeks and closed her mouth.
She found out again.
...
As they approached the police station, Zhu Qing dialed her home phone.
There was no answer on the other end of the phone for a long time, and she guessed that Aunt Ping had probably gone to the market again.
Both uncle and nephew knew that Aunt Ping had an unwavering habit: even if there was a refrigerator at home, she would still go to the market several times a day to pick out the freshest vegetables to take home.
Aunt Ping probably didn't expect Shengfang to come back early, which is why she missed the phone call.
“We should get Aunt Ping a mobile phone,” Fangfang suggested cheerfully.
Zhu Qing nodded: "I'll make time to buy it."
Xu Jiale, standing to the side, exaggeratedly looked up to the sky and sighed, "When will my boss finally give me a work machine?!"
Zhu Qing raised an eyebrow: "Which boss are you?"
Xu Jiale began to think seriously.
One of the officers had only just gotten his own mobile phone. A few days ago, at Inspector Mok's house for a celebration, his wife revealed his embarrassing moments, saying that his report was two whole pages long.
Another boss, when treating everyone to afternoon tea, would frown and feel distressed if he took an extra egg tart...
Fangfang, acting like a little adult, patted his shoulder to comfort him.
Xu Jiale: "Are you hiring?"
"There's no room now." Fangfang shook her head seriously. "Let's talk about it when we move."
...
There has been a new development in the case.
The deceased, Zhou Yongsheng, had planned to rent a room on Lamma Island, but after his identity was exposed, he never appeared again. According to the landlord, Zhou Yongsheng had mentioned another female tenant at the time. The suicide pact case ten years ago was originally without any doubt, but the latest investigation revealed that Zhou Yongsheng had been withdrawing cash in batches before his death, which was clearly a transfer of assets to prepare for his life after faking his death.
Even more strangely, just as Zhu Qing was reporting this lead, she received another piece of information. Her colleagues discovered that Gu Niman's family members had passed away one after another over the past ten years. With these two clues intertwined, the "love suicide" of that year might very well have been a meticulously planned murder.
Zhu Qing hurried back to the police station, followed by a little tail with short legs desperately chasing after her.
Bringing children to work is indeed inconvenient; even the smartest children still need care.
But as soon as she entered the CID office, Fangfang patted her chest and assured them, "It's okay, I'll find someone to take care of me."
Zhu Qing was so busy she barely had time to breathe.
When she returned with the copied documents, she saw Fangfang standing on tiptoe to pour herself a warm drink.
The uncle and nephew's eyes met briefly.
"Don't bother me," Fangfang waved her hand. "Make yourself at home."
Television is no longer allowed, but the children have such a vast repertoire of storylines that they can't forget them in a short time.
He just mixed up the lines, which amused Zhu Qing.
"I need to go out for a bit." Zhu Qing put down the photocopied documents and pulled out one of them.
She instructed, "Give Aunt Ping a call."
The child on the swivel chair jumped down with a "thud".
The office phone is next to Sister Zhen's workstation.
Fangfang peeked out and asked to borrow it.
This kid is the darling of the entire CID room. Sister Zhen smiled and pinched his round cheek.
"Do you even need to ask? Use it as you please."
The chubby little fingers pressed the number keys happily, each key making a crisp sound.
Soon, a familiar voice came through the receiver...
A few minutes later, when Zhu Qing came out carrying the files, she ran into Dr. Cheng.
She asked in surprise, "What brings you here?"
He handed over a re-examination report.
This Dr. Cheng is someone everyone has to welcome.
"You're here—" Fangfang ran out.
The forensic doctors have different shift schedules. Cheng Xinglang was on vacation, but he was on standby at any time.
I had just finished the re-inspection when I received a call from Xiao Gui.
Shengfang has a great memory; after we made plans to ride motorcycles together last time, he remembered his number perfectly.
Just as he himself said—
No need for Qingzai to worry, Fangfang will find someone to take care of her.
"Zhu Qing!" Zeng Yongshan called from the corridor, "Can we leave now?"
Zhu Qing hurriedly wrote down her home phone number and handed it to Dr. Cheng: "Just contact Aunt Ping to pick up the child."
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the Venetian blinds in the corridor, casting shadows.
Cheng Xinglang stood quietly among them, the sharp silhouette of his black overcoat accentuating his tall and slender figure. Little Fangfang stood beside him, mimicking the adults, casually putting his hands in his pockets and tilting his chin up like a handsome little boy.
Zhu Qing kept turning back to look at herself.
Fangfang tugged at Dr. Cheng's sleeve.
The two, one big and one small, gave her a reassuring gesture in unison.
...
“The Gu family is really strange.” Haozai rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. “All four members of the family died within ten years.”
Inside the train carriage, yellowed case records were passed from hand to hand.
On March 16, 1987, Gu's mother fell from a building.
The weather was fine that day. She carried her bedding to the rooftop, and the rusty railing snapped the moment she leaned against it. Witnesses said that she was still holding the bedding when she fell.
On January 19, 1992, Gu's father drowned while fishing in the wild.
According to the dock manager, he saw the old man stubbornly sitting on the dangerous rocks in the early hours of the morning, and several warnings were ignored. When the accident occurred, what was recovered, besides his body, was his fishing rod that he had used for many years.
Finally, a week ago, Gu Niman's younger brother died in a car accident.
Tests revealed that his blood alcohol level was dangerously high.
"Based on the existing evidence, it is determined to be an accident."
"The tenement building where Gu's mother fell to her death was frequently the subject of complaints about the dilapidated railings. The developer's procrastination led to the irreversible consequences. The pier where Gu's father drowned has a few stubborn old fishermen who don't read the tide tables every year. As for her brother's car accident—with such a high blood alcohol concentration, he would trip while walking, let alone driving."
"After visiting relatives, friends, colleagues and neighbors, we found that the Gu family has no debt disputes, no romantic entanglements, simple social relationships and no enemies."
"This is just an ordinary family. The only unusual thing is Gu Niman's 'suicide pact'."
"Unless... the Gu family discovers the truth about the double suicide."
Haozai shook his head as he flipped through the files: "I think they should have had someone perform a ritual back then."
The police car came to a stop in front of an apartment building.
Ten years ago, after Gu Niman passed away, media reporters camped out in front of the Gu family home every day. The family couldn't take it anymore and moved three times.
“It was so difficult to find this address.” Zeng Yongshan looked up at the house number. “This is where they last lived.”
In recent years, Gu Niman's parents and younger brother lived here until they passed away one after another.
After three regular knocks, a swollen face appeared through the crack in the door.
Her eyes were swollen shut, and her voice was hoarse: "Who are you?"
Gu Niman's younger brother is named Gu Hongbo, and it was his girlfriend, Tang Tingting, who opened the door.
After the police explained their purpose, she led everyone into the house with red eyes.
Tang Tingting pointed to the portrait on the wall and said, "He just left like that, only twenty-two years old."
The young man in the photo is smiling brightly, revealing a set of neat teeth.
In the family photo on the coffee table, Gu Hongbo stands between his parents, and the family is enjoying a harmonious time together.
“He has no family left.” Tang Tingting lowered her head, her fingertips touching the portrait. “His parents passed away early, so I have to handle his funeral arrangements.”
“I always thought he was an only child,” Tang Tingting said. “Later I found out that his sister is such a famous actress.”
Does he not often mention his sister?
Tang Tingting nodded: "I've never heard Hongbo mention his sister on his own initiative. I only found out about her by accident... I can understand. It must be a very sad memory."
She said she had never met Gu Hongbo's parents. But she often heard him mention that they were understanding elders who cared deeply for their children.
The house was cold and desolate. Tang Tingting sorted through her boyfriend's belongings, one item after another, each carrying beautiful memories.
Zhu Qing leaned down: "This painting is—"
This is a sketch.
Tang Tingting carefully held a corner of the drawing paper: "The day of the funeral was too chaotic, I didn't even notice that someone was drawing. Later, I heard from the cemetery manager that the old gentleman had been drawing there for more than ten years."
Zeng Yongshan took the painting and examined it carefully: "It was painted with great care."
"Only a few colleagues and friends came to see Hongbo off."
"None of us noticed that someone was recording this moment."
Zhu Qing's gaze suddenly stopped on a corner of the painting.
In the shadows of the stele forest, a man wearing a fisherman's hat stands. With just a few strokes, this stillness contrasts with his friend wiping away tears in front of the tombstone, forming the complete structure of the painting.
Who is this person?
"I don't know... I didn't notice him at the time."
“My parents didn’t approve of us being together, and I was still trying to persuade them to let me be with him. I never expected…” Her voice choked up, “Now it’s too late to say anything. At twenty-two, everything has turned to ashes.”
"Only this portrait and this painting remain."
She raised her head, looking haggard, and her gaze fell once again on the radiant smile in the portrait.
The police took the statement as per procedure.
"By the way," Zhu Qing suddenly turned around as she reached the door, "what is the exact date of the funeral?"
...
Liu Wei, a fervent fan of Gu Niman, has been detained to this day, unable to utter a single truth, stubbornly repeating his old story—
"I just happened to meet Zhou Yongsheng. That coward, that coward..."
How could the police believe that?
A fan who was so devoted to Gu Niman that she still cried for her even after she disappeared for ten years happened to bump into Zhou Yongsheng, who had been faking his death for ten years, on the very day he died.
At this moment, the investigation finally found a breakthrough.
Uncle Li pushed the sketch in front of Liu Wei.
This sketch, though hastily drawn, is extremely expressive; the shadow behind the stele forest is clearly him.
"Gu Hongbo's funeral and Zhou Yongsheng's death were on the same day," Uncle Li said in a deep voice. "Speak."
Liu Wei stared at the painting, his fist clenched.
“Manman is gone,” Liu Wei said. “She’s gone… I just wanted to send her brother off on his final journey.”
How did you find out?
Ten years ago, Gu Niman's family moved several times to escape the paparazzi's harassment. Now, ten years later, if Zhou Yongsheng hadn't "come back to life," the media would have long since lost interest in them.
Even the police took several days to find clues about the Gu family. This movie fan actually has such great abilities that he even knows the details of Gu Niman's brother's death.
It was another long, irritating silence.
A few knocks sounded on the door.
Xiao Sun got up and quickly went to open the door, taking the old alumni directory handed to him by his colleague.
He flipped straight to the marked page and slammed it heavily on the interrogation table.
The water glass on the table wobbled.
“Liu Wei.” He pointed to one of the messages. “I don’t think this is just a coincidence of people sharing the same name, is it?”
"You are both a fan of Gu Niman and her classmate."
Liu Wei's gaze was fixed on the alumni directory, his fingertips tracing the words printed in the corner.
Just like in his school days, he always huddled in the most inconspicuous seat by the classroom door. His short stature made him used to keeping his head down, but the only girl who was always late would nod and smile at him when she opened the door.
She later became an actress, while he remained a follower who silently watched from the shadows.
It wasn't until the news of his "suicide pact" arrived that he realized he had been deprived of even the right to be a spectator.
“I know she has a younger brother; it’s not a secret.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on this for so many years… That day, I went to Manman’s grave to lay flowers and heard from the caretaker that the Gu family was going to move a new grave into the grave, which belonged to her younger brother.”
“He’s gone, I’m helping Manman send him off on his final journey.”
At that moment, in the observation room next door, Mo Zhenbang overheard the young police officers' conversation.
"I thought it was just a coincidence that they were the same age. I never expected they were classmates?"
"It's been ten years, and Zhou Yongsheng still went to see off Gu Niman's brother. Is he really such a sentimental fool?"
"A love-struck fool? If he really intended to commit suicide back then, he wouldn't have been able to transfer his assets. After all that scheming, he's now playing the role of a romantic hero?"
"But...it's contradictory. If you care about Gu Niman, why did you go to see her brother off on his final journey?"
"Could it be—" Haozai suddenly lowered his voice, "that he killed Gu Hongbo?"
"The truth will eventually come out. What if the younger brother discovers the truth about his sister's 'suicide pact' and tries to seek justice? And then..."
The sounds from the interrogation room came through the monitor.
"When I saw him in the cemetery, I almost didn't recognize him."
"He was standing far away, just like me."
As he reminisced, Liu Wei's gaze lingered on a single point, as if his thoughts were drifting into the distance.
“I flipped through some old entertainment magazines. Back then, he had long hair, wore round-framed glasses, and looked like an artist.”
"He's a completely different person now. He's cut his hair short and he's not wearing glasses anymore."
Uncle Li recalled the suspicious points that had been pinned to the whiteboard during the case analysis meeting.
He put down his pen and leaned forward slightly: "When you were following him, how was his walking posture? Was it steady?"
“He was very steady,” Liu Wei said. “I followed him the whole way, and he walked straight.”
"We followed him the whole way." Uncle Li raised an eyebrow. "But we lost him at the theater entrance?"
“That’s it,” Liu Wei said. “I’ve said everything I need to say. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.”
Zhu Qing walked out of the observation room and took out the re-examination report again.
Dr. Cheng specifically requested an additional slit-lamp microscopy examination, which was sent to the main laboratory for scheduling, and the results were only received this morning. Myopia is irreversible, especially since Zhou Yongsheng's myopia is high, and it's impossible for it to suddenly regress. Unless he has undergone vision correction surgery or wears contact lenses. The report clearly shows that there are no surgical scars on Zhou Yongsheng's cornea.
“So it was intentional on the part of the murderer…” Zeng Yongshan leaned over to look at the report.
"After the murder, the killer even removed the victim's contact lenses."
"In such a critical murder scene, why would the murderer risk wasting time to do this? There must be a special reason."
This is to cut off the investigation leads.
"Special lenses? To prevent the police from tracking us through eye exam records?"
Following this lead, the police launched an in-depth investigation.
Retrieving Zhou Yongsheng's ophthalmology records from ten years ago revealed—
Irregular astigmatism, abnormal corneal thickness, and high myopia.
For laparoscopic vision problems, special lenses must be customized, and there are no more than five shops in Hong Kong that have this fitting technology.
The officers from the Major Crimes Unit visited each of these eyewear stores.
After investigation, a major discovery was finally made.
"We found it!" The officer carried the immigration file back to the conference room. "He used the identity of 'Qin Wen.' This isn't the first case like this. Old ID cards that weren't cancelled after immigration circulate on the black market and sell for tens of thousands of yuan each."
"The old version of the ID card issued in 1983 only had text information, but he replaced it with a new one in 1987, this time using his own photo."
"The databases of the Immigration Department and the Immigration Bureau are not shared at all."
"Someone helped him exploit this loophole and successfully obtained a new photo ID using Qin Wen's identity."
"How did you do that?"
"After all, he's a well-known director, how could his income be low? The funds that Zhou Yongsheng transferred back then were no small amount, and that money will always come in handy."
At this point, the truth gradually became clear.
Ten years ago, Zhou Yongsheng planned a "love suicide" to fake his death, and then lived under the new identity of "Qin Wen" for a full ten years.
...
The identity of "Qin Wen" is like a key; with a gentle turn, it unlocks Zhou Yongsheng's ten years of secrecy.
Police traced the water and electricity bills and eventually located Peng Chau, an even more secluded island than Lamma Island.
Everyone thought that Zhou Yongsheng had spent the last ten years in hiding, but everything before their eyes overturned this assumption.
The white cottage stood quietly, with the grass and trees outside the yard trimmed to perfection.
A handwritten wooden sign leaned against the door, reading "Do Not Disturb," the handwriting calm and composed.
At the end of the cobblestone path, there are two rattan rocking chairs.
A soft blanket is laid on one of the chairs, serving both as warmth and decoration, exuding a sense of style in every corner.
It is extremely quiet here, so remote that it is almost isolated from the world.
For the past ten years, Zhou Yongsheng seems to have been doing very well.
She shed her former identity, fulfilled her artistic dreams, moved to the outlying islands, and lived a peaceful life away from the world.
Police questioned a few islanders along the way, and they heard their recollections—
"That family lived a cultured couple; the husband was probably a writer. He often sat in the courtyard, brewed a pot of tea, and wrote."
“They lived in the white house down the slope. My kitchen window faced the path where they walked, and I could see their backs almost every night. The husband always carefully supported his wife and walked very slowly. His wife was frail and wore long sleeves even in the summer, and he always adjusted her collar for her.”
"It's rare to see such a thoughtful man."
"Mrs?"
The officers exchanged glances.
Is this the person Zhou Yongsheng was willing to pay any price to be with?
Pushing open the door, the wooden frame made a slight creaking sound.
The room was clean and cozy.
The kitchen was well-stocked with seasonings, indicating they cooked frequently. Opening the refrigerator, only half a carton of milk and two eggs remained. Zhu Qing crouched down, her fingers tracing the thin frost in the freezer.
Walking into the living room, the fabric sofa, though not as luxurious as the leather sofa in Zhou Yongsheng's old home, exuded a sense of warmth. A few fluffy cushions were casually placed, and DVDs of recent critically acclaimed movies were scattered around the television.
"His real wife worked hard to take care of their son, while his lover, Gu Niman, committed suicide for him..."
"He's fine, he just hides away and lives a secluded life in paradise."
Further inside, the bedroom bed was neatly made, the bedside table was covered in a thin layer of dust, and there were no photos on it.
Zhou Yongsheng no longer wears glasses; given his prescription, he must rely on contact lenses.
On the bathroom counter, there was contact lens solution.
Zhu Qing shook the 500 ml of contact lens solution and found it was almost empty.
There was also a small bottle that was half-used next to it.
"Where did that lady they were talking about go?"
As the investigation progresses, the fog is gradually clearing.
"Yongshan," Zhu Qing said, "did Zhou Yongsheng tell his son that he couldn't bear to part with him?"
Zeng Yongshan nodded: "Jiang Yifan said that the great director has superb acting skills, and even he himself believes it."
But what if that's not acting skills?
Perhaps Zhou Yongsheng really was going to leave for distant lands, which is why he appeared so frequently, just to see his son a few more times.
“They’re going to run,” Zhu Qing suddenly said.
I deliberately left the large bottle of contact lens solution unopened, and the food in the refrigerator was gradually emptied.
They are preparing to leave Ping Chau, and possibly even Hong Kong.
"The immigration bureau has requested a comprehensive review of dual residency issues and requires a second verification."
“This time, we need to verify the original files and entry and exit records. People like him who impersonate immigrants will not pass the verification.”
"We'll call the police," Uncle Li said. "They'll check the airline's ticketing records and estimate that the mysterious 'wife' is leaving with him."
...
At two o'clock in the afternoon, the sun shone lazily down, and the children skipped and jumped around Cheng Xinglang.
"Where shall we go to play?" Fangfang looked up with her chubby little face, more obedient than ever before.
Cheng Xinglang didn't actually plan to go far.
The little devil kept saying he wanted some snacks, so he took his men downstairs.
However, the Yau Ma Tei Police Station is so close to home that the familiar building comes into view just around the corner.
Shengfang immediately turned around, pretending not to see.
Going home is absolutely impossible.
A fragrant aroma wafted from the tea restaurant.
Cheng Xinglang ordered a glass of iced lemon drink, a favorite among children, for the kids.
He had never taken care of children before, but he knew that children shouldn't drink anything too sweet.
"Go sweet."
Blackcurrant juice mixed with lemonade—this flavor brings a smile to the faces of children.
Fangfang sipped her drink through a colorful straw, swaying her head and enjoying the afternoon sun.
Such a beautiful weekend, doesn't Dr. Cheng have any plans?
"Dr. Cheng, where were you originally planning to go?"
Upon hearing his answer, Fangfang's eyes instantly lit up with anticipation.
"I can go to the gym with you!"
"You'll be flattened by the dumbbells."
As they passed the movie theater, Sheng Fang excitedly tugged at Cheng Xinglang's sleeve: "Want to watch a movie? There are animated films!"
"You and me?" Cheng Xinglang leaned forward. "To watch a movie?"
"Who else do you want to call?" Fang Fang tilted her head.
"..."
I haven't received a reply yet.
The little one crossed his arms over his chest: "Feeling guilty."
...
Police vehicles roared into the police station.
The car doors opened in unison.
Just as they were about to enter the building, another official vehicle with flashing police lights screeched to a stop.
Xu Jiale opened the driver's side window, waving a document in his hand.
"Qin Wen purchased his plane ticket through a travel agency in Central, using the new version of his ID card and passport!"
A few minutes later, the conference room was brightly lit.
"Qin Wen originally obtained a passport under an old identity without a photo and then immigrated overseas."
“When the ID cards were replaced, Zhou Yongsheng used Qin Wen’s old ID card, which had not been cancelled, along with his own photo, to successfully exchange it for a new ID card and passport.”
"The system cannot link to the old passport. Once he successfully leaves the country, he will have truly faked his death and will live under a new identity."
"The ticket was issued at almost the same time by a woman."
"Shu Yingying, thirty-nine years old."
"My flight departs next Wednesday."
It wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; they had meticulously planned this escape.
They had been waiting for this moment ever since Gu Niman's brother's car accident.
"Check Shu Yingying's background information," Mo Zhenbang said. "I need to know all the connections she had with Zhou Yongsheng."
...
Let the kids enjoy the second half of their happy weekend by spending time in the lab with Dr. Cheng.
What's so special about bubble toys bought on Lamma Island? Dr. Cheng took him to visit the forensic department, where they made their own bubble machine.
Fangfang was having so much fun that she forgot all about it, but she still remembered to call Qingzai to let her know.
When the call connected, his niece's voice was unexpectedly full of energy.
Despite a busy day, he was full of energy, which must mean there had been a major breakthrough in the case.
At this moment, Little Dot is lying on the folding bed in Dr. Cheng's office, swinging his little feet and chatting with Qingzai on the other end of the phone.
Zhu Qing remained silent for a long time.
Fangfang guessed that she was definitely staring at the caller ID, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper.
"Why haven't you gone home with Aunt Ping yet?"
In the background, Zeng Yongshan's soft laughter could be heard: "Dr. Cheng is quite adept at taking care of children."
"Let Dr. Cheng answer the phone," Zhu Qing said.
The young master's little head immediately went into overdrive.
"Okay, I'm hanging up now." Fangfang glanced at Cheng Xinglang, who was reading a book beside her.
In the quiet office, the voice coming from the cell phone could be heard clearly.
Cheng Xinglang had just put down his book and raised his hand—
"Bye-bye!" Fangfang's chubby little hand poked at the button.
Cheng Xinglang: ...
I haven't said anything yet.
"Please be understanding," Fangfang said in a childish voice. "I'm afraid Qingzai will make you take me home."
The little girl decisively hung up on Qingzai's phone.
I was humming a song when I heard Dr. Cheng's text message tone.
“She said…” Cheng Xinglang chuckled, “You’re finished.”
"I'm not afraid at all." The baby lay leisurely on the folding bed, her chubby little face supported by her hands. "Our Qingzai wouldn't bear to hit me."
Dr. Cheng leaned back lazily, his long, slender fingers moving back and forth across the keys.
Fangfang frowned slightly, and asked warily, "What are you talking about with my niece?"
“You’re not afraid…” Cheng Xinglang raised his eyebrows and mimicked him, “right?”
The little uncle pounced on the phone like a Flying Tiger: "Hello—ah!"
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