Chapter 66 "Can DNA be detected?"
In the dance studio, there were two rows of little swans dressed in snow-white tutus. Although they were chubby, their postures were professional.
In contrast, Fangfang is like a clumsy little penguin standing in the very middle of the first row.
This is a prime spot that the teacher specially arranged for a potential young client, so that he can correct any improper movements at any time.
"It's not just little girls who do ballet," the teacher said with a smile, gently straightening Fangfang's little arms. "We also have a little boy in the class next door who does ballet. Mark started learning ballet when he was four years old, and he even won a silver medal in the inter-school competition last year!"
"What's your name?" the young master asked.
“Me? You can call me Teacher Lily.”
The children didn't even lift their eyelids.
It's not like it's a gold medal, just rambling on, Lily.
While the other children steadily raised their arms, Fangfang's short arms were still struggling to find their balance.
His fingertips trembled as he noticed the well-trained coconut baby in the mirror.
I never expected that shredded coconut could be so effective.
Zhu Qing leaned against the glass door of the classroom, her lips unconsciously curving upwards, just as proud as Aunt Ping when she stood outside the fencing hall.
But their ears perked up discreetly, keenly picking up on the whispers coming from the reception room.
The deliberately hushed arguments sounded exceptionally clear in the empty corridor.
“I’ve said it many times, there’s no need to brag about our achievements to parents, let alone complain. When someone signs up, we can just talk about the course schedule,” Lin Tingchao said. “I heard you just now, you were telling people how we defeated ‘Golden Ballet’… What’s the point of that?”
Su Leyi: "The students' parents wanted to know about the school's strength, and I was just telling the truth."
"Even if you defeat Golden Ballet in three months, is it necessary to make it known to everyone? Leyi, you're really getting carried away."
Su Leyi remained silent for a long time, then suddenly sneered.
“Lin Tingchao, we are equal partners, you are not my boss.”
The door to the reception room opened, and the glass curtain wall reflected the two people's images.
Zhu Qing noticed the subtle tension between the two partners.
In their collaboration, they need each other, yet they secretly compete with one another.
“It’s normal to have disagreements in business,” Lin Tingchao suddenly softened his voice. “Let’s discuss it slowly.”
“Sometimes I really feel you’ve changed a lot.” Su Leyi’s tone softened a bit. “You weren’t this aggressive before.”
"I was too hasty," Lin Tingchao said with a smile, her voice gentle. "The cashmere shawl that Rongguang Department Store just got, the color you said you liked last time—"
What kind?
"Want to try it now? I put it in the trunk."
A struggle flashed in Su Leyi's eyes, but she eventually stood up as well.
Only after their figures completely disappeared around the corner of the corridor did Zhu Qing slowly turn her gaze away.
In a previous conversation, Su Leyi had mentioned her entrepreneurial past and revealed her financial difficulties compared to Lin Tingchao. Now, Lin Tingchao's cashmere shawl made her swallow all her complaints.
Given Su Leyi's dependence on this partner, this lead is unlikely to uncover any truth.
The only thing that caught Zhu Qing's attention was Su Leyi's casual complaint: she said that Lin Tingchao had changed a lot.
From the beginning, the police focused their attention on the absurd "life-swapping" legend.
Wealthy families use small favors to lure poor girls into engaging in some illicit transaction.
But what if, in reality, it was the life of a wealthy heiress that was switched?
Instead of being jealous, replace him.
The gleaming glass reflected the resentment of the young master of the Sheng family.
"Just stretch your legs!" Ye Si said enthusiastically. "I'll demonstrate for you."
Fangfang stared at the coconut flakes, and slowly, her eyes widened, until they couldn't be wider.
After being classmates for so long, he never expected that Little Coconut would have such a unique skill: being able to fold her whole body up!
The little boy was instantly terrified and trembling.
"Do I have to bet too?" Baby tried to remain calm. "No, I want to go home."
...
Meanwhile, Uncle Lai and Hao Zai arrived at an oil painting studio on Hollywood Road according to the address.
The air inside smelled of sandalwood and ink watercolors. Pushing open the door, you could see several rough wooden carvings casually placed, exuding an unconventional atmosphere.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a man was focused on painting. Sunlight shone on the unfinished canvas. Hearing a noise, he turned his head.
Who are you two?
This is a young painter, wearing a linen shirt with paint smudges on the cuffs but not caring at all, just casually rolling them up.
This man, who exudes an artistic aura, is Lin Tingchao's childhood sweetheart and boyfriend, with whom she dated for a year.
The police learned of Lin Tingchao's existence from his old classmate.
It is said that when Lin Tingchao fell ill, he left her without looking back, fearing that he would be a burden to her.
"Did you break up with her because of her health problems?" Haozai asked bluntly.
"Wasn't the surgery very successful?" The man looked up, his tone flat. "The surgeon himself said that the hematopoietic function reconstruction was ideal."
"Do you know what it's like to go through a bone marrow transplant? At first, she would cough up blood even when she was breathing. She was very scared. I held her hand and helped her through those days and nights."
"One night, she was in so much pain that she pulled out the IV line. If I hadn't found out..."
"Officers, after the surgery, I was there to help her get back on her feet. Now you're asking me if we broke up because of her health problems?"
Several completed works hang on the studio wall, one of which has a yellowed award label on its corner, clearly indicating its age. The silhouette of the figure in the painting vaguely resembles that of Lin Tingchao.
“She disappeared without even leaving a note.” The man put down his paintbrush, his voice low. “I went to her house to look for her. Her parents said that Lin Tingchao only wanted to focus on her studies.”
The man chuckled: "We didn't talk about academics in high school, but now that I'm twenty, I suddenly start to care."
They last met three years ago.
He flew for over ten hours to Julianne Dance Academy to see her. She showed him around the campus, but ultimately ended the relationship with the words, "We're not right for each other."
"I broke up with her?" the man said coldly. "Officer, you haven't investigated thoroughly enough."
Haozai didn't expect this answer.
Uncle Li was unwilling to listen to the old entanglements between the young people; he was more concerned with the purpose of his trip.
"Have you ever heard Lin Tingchao mention Kuang Xiaoyan?"
Uncle Li took out the group photo and pointed to the figure in the corner.
“She’s a lunatic.” He stared at the photo, his tone disgusted. “Once at the movie theater, after the movie ended, we found her sitting in the back row. Tingchao forgot his coat, and when he came back, she was trying on clothes to fit.”
...
A class period feels like it will never end.
Fangfang followed the rhythm and lifted her chubby little legs.
The wronged undercover agent knew his mission well, but his contact was too much and betrayed him at a crucial moment.
"You traitor!" Fangfang gritted her teeth.
"What is this?" Coconut Baby asked curiously.
“I’m counting the beats,” Sir Fang explained calmly.
I've heard that professional undercover agents keep undercover diaries. When he gets home tonight, he'll definitely write down this dark day!
"Little swan, you need to raise your wings a little higher," the teacher gently reminded her.
The little boy was dancing for the first time, and his little hands and feet wouldn't obey his commands.
Everyone could see that he wasn't like an elegant little swan, but rather like a silly goose.
Time flies by, and it goes by in the blink of an eye when you're playing.
At this moment, every minute has a full... sixty seconds.
Fangfang stood in front of the mirror with her hands on her hips, and when she noticed her niece's figure, her eyes widened.
How dare Qingzai stand there!
Zhu Qing silently turned away under his menacing glare.
My pager kept vibrating; it was clearly a message from Zeng Yongshan. They had noticed Lin Tingchao returning to the dance center while they were following her, and worried that Zhu Qing would be exposed, so they kept reminding her.
Actually, the moment when she and Lin Tingchao locked eyes in silence wasn't dangerous. If she was innocent, the encounter was just a coincidence; but if she had something to hide, then both of them were pretending not to know.
Zhu Qing's inclination is towards the latter.
Returning to the origins of the case, from the very beginning, Kuang Xiaoyan clung to Lin Tingchao like a shadow. Her cousin said that she claimed to be a swan trapped in the shell of an ugly duckling, frantically learning and imitating every move of a real swan. Whether it was her tone of voice, the curve of her lips when she smiled, the habit of flipping her hair with her hand, or her gait... even her eating habits. Rich heiresses had many rules about eating, and Kuang Xiaoyan said that only real heiresses would be so pampered.
“Details—” Zhu Qing recalled Rong Zimei’s words to Kuang Xiaoyan, “are what reveal a person’s background.”
Kuang Xiaoyan needs to undergo a complete transformation until she truly becomes Lin Tingchao.
The dance center wasn't well soundproofed, so Zhu Qing took her cell phone downstairs to report to Mo Zhenbang.
“Mr. Mo, if two people already look six or seven parts alike, and then adjust it through plastic surgery…” Zhu Qing said slowly, “is that why she went to Southeast Asia? Postponing her enrollment by six months was just enough time to complete the plastic surgery and recovery.”
As for when the replacement occurred?
During bone marrow matching surgery, doctors will strictly verify identities, meaning that the real Lin Tingchao did indeed complete the surgery. The post-operative thank-you letter was indeed written by her in her hospital bed.
As promised to Dr. Nie, she was supposed to present him with a banner of appreciation upon her recovery after being discharged from the hospital. However, the real Lin Tingchao failed to fulfill this promise—perhaps because she had already been replaced by then.
Mo Zhenbang's question came from the other end of the phone: "But she's still dancing."
Zhu Qing recalled that before going downstairs, she was standing at the door of a dance studio.
Lin Tingchao had already returned to the practice room. A little girl clung to her, and amidst the child's mother's apologetic smile, she led the child, demonstrating spinning movements with a grace as light as a feather. The setting sun streamed through the glass window, overlapping her profile with an old poster on the wall. One was now a dance teacher, the other a former prodigy standing on the podium.
"Is it really necessary to put in all my effort just to teach a child?" Zhu Qing's voice was so soft it was almost a soliloquy. "Is the genius of yesteryear still a genius today?"
After a long silence, Mo Zhenbang posed the crucial question—
"Where are the parents? Wouldn't the parents notice if their daughter was switched at birth?"
Zhu Qing suddenly froze.
She didn't consider that at all.
Zhu Qing grew up alone, and even now that she has a mother, the concept of family affection is still vague to her. She has never truly experienced the meticulous care of her parents, and her imagination has always been somewhat lacking.
She had overlooked such a crucial step.
Yes, how can you deceive everyone so thoroughly that even your closest relatives are kept in the dark?
What methods were used to deceive their closest parents?
...
The class finally ended, and Fangfang's little stomach was rumbling with hunger.
The niece was clearly guilty; she took her uncle's chubby little hand and went straight into McDonald's.
"Large fries, extra ketchup."
"I also want hamburgers, chicken nuggets... Do they still give out toys with kids' meals now?"
Shengfang raised her chin and turned her small face to one side.
Hmph, do you think he's some kind of kid who only knows how to eat?
As it turns out, it's not easy to just let things go.
Even a few minutes later, sitting in the car, stuffing crispy fries into his mouth with both hands, the little guy's expression was still incredibly cool.
The individually packaged ketchup was quickly emptied, and the young master patted the headrest of the driver's seat, gesturing with his eyes.
“I know—” the niece replied in a drawn-out tone, eagerly.
Shengfang had never seen her niece look like this before.
This shows how outrageous she was this time!
The sound of crunching came from the back seat; the little one was thoroughly enjoying his food.
Zhu Qing seized the opportunity to lean closer and pleaded kindly, "Please, please, I was wrong."
With her cheeks bulging with food, she scrutinized her niece with a critical eye.
The lines are clearly copied from him, but the tone is wrong, and the effect is completely different. Who taught my niece to act like that? She should be blinking her eyes and holding her heart in her hands!
"You said last time that being a policeman requires the courage to sacrifice," Zhu Qing turned around. "You're willing to play the son, so why can't you dance?"
Zhu Qing helped him recall his experience of playing the son not long ago.
"That's true..." The young master of the Sheng family's face scrunched up, "but—"
"No buts, and no excuses," Zhu Qing said seriously. "Remember, you are a police officer."
Fangfang listened, completely bewildered.
They were just apologizing, how come they're suddenly acting all righteous?
But on second thought, it seems to make sense.
Those who achieve great things do not concern themselves with trifles; this is what young swordsmen and great heroes in martial arts films say.
"Never mind," the little boy waved his hand magnanimously. "I forgive you."
When getting off the bus, Fangfang took the initiative to put her little hand into Zhu Qing's palm.
These are little chubby hands covered in fries grease and hamburger sauce... sparkly.
Zhu Qing's arm stiffened instantly, and she ultimately failed to pull it back.
Today, the kid is the boss; he's in charge.
As soon as she entered the house, Zhu Qing rushed to the bathroom and turned on the tap to wash her hands.
Fangfang slumped on the sofa, mimicking the dance teacher, and massaged her arms and legs to relax her muscles.
"You're back?" Aunt Ping poked her head out from the kitchen, her apron covered in flour and a rolling pin in her hand. "Where did the young master go to play?"
At this moment, Zhu Qing came out of the bathroom wiping her hands, and still smelled her palms with concern.
He leaped forward, tiptoeing to cover her mouth.
He was suddenly lifted up without warning.
"Don't tell!"
Children can also threaten people, getting close with a cute but fierce look and trying to intimidate them with their eyes.
He pressed his forehead firmly against his niece's. In the little girl's mind, he felt like a terrifying demon king at that moment.
But in Zhu Qing's eyes, it was just a cute little dumpling making strange noises, like an anime character.
"So cute." She cupped Fangfang's little face in her hands, rubbing and pinching it.
The young master was confused for a second, but immediately regained his composure, put his hands on his hips, and said, "Don't try that on me!"
...
The deeper the investigation into this case goes, the more shrouded in mystery it becomes.
Early Saturday morning, the officers from Major Crimes Unit B didn't even return to the police station to report for duty; instead, they immediately split into several groups to conduct their investigations.
It wasn't until evening that everyone returned to the meeting room, sat in a circle, and continued to sort through the intricate and complex clue diagram.
Zhu Qing stood in front of the whiteboard, tapping the list of Lin family servants with her fingertips.
“All the servants have been replaced. Even Wu Ma, who took care of Lin Tingchao since he was a child, went back to her hometown to take care of her grandson for two years.” She held a marker and deliberately drew a red line under “two years”.
Zeng Yongshan added while flipping through her notebook, "What's even stranger is that professional dancers can rush backstage and get dressed in the blink of an eye, but she's used to locking the door. And this is a habit she's developed in recent years."
"Could it be because of the scar from the surgery?" Xu Jiale said. "My cousin was scalded by boiling water when she was a child, and she has a scar on her thigh. She has never wanted to wear a skirt since she grew up."
“What if it’s the exact opposite?” Zeng Yongshan looked up.
“I had surgery in name only, but there were no scars left,” Zhu Qing said. “So I don’t dare let anyone see it.”
Gasps filled the conference room.
Mo Zhenbang fiddled with the photos in his hand, comparing them, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. Judging from the photos alone, Lin Tingchao three and a half years ago looked almost exactly the same as she did three years later.
Of course, Mo Zhenbang could also see that there were indeed too many suspicious points about Lin Tingchao, and these suspicious points could not withstand scrutiny or explanation.
But reality isn't a magic show; the so-called "disappearing person" requires irrefutable evidence. Relying solely on intuition is a major taboo, and he learned this the hard way many times in his youth.
“But the facts are undeniable,” Zhu Qing insisted. “If the severed toe didn’t belong to Kuang Xiaoyan, then there’s only one other possibility left.”
"The toe amputation report indicates that, based on the degree of calcification of the toe bone, the person who had the amputated toe was between 22 and 25 years old. Kuang Xiaoyan was 20 years old when she went missing, and is now 23 years old... while Lin Tingchao is 24 years old, which is a perfect match."
"The technical department is working overtime to do ear comparisons, and the results should be available by noon tomorrow. Plastic surgery can change one's appearance, but the structure of ear cartilage is like a fingerprint, and it is impossible to fake."
"Another strange thing is that this 'dancer' hasn't participated in any professional competitions in the past three years. His most brilliant achievement is teaching children to dance 'Swan Lake'. Is that considered genius?"
“I emailed the Julian Academy of Dance in Manchester, hoping they could provide Lin Tingchao’s transcript and performance videos, but I’ll probably get rejected due to their privacy policy.”
As Mo Zhenbang said, these are all speculations and inferences, without any more substantial evidence.
Even so, the police could not sit idly by.
"In any case, there is evidence that Kuang Xiaoyan sneaked into the school back then. The cleaning lady saw her wearing the school uniform and trying to sneak into Lin Tingchao's dormitory."
“There’s definitely something wrong with that basement.” Uncle Li opened a supplementary statement. “This is the statement that Yongshan and I obtained again. The Lin family’s maid said that their wife is a clean freak and is extremely particular about hygiene. But in all these years, they have never asked them to clean the basement.”
Liang Qikai placed a stack of documents on the table: "The Lin family's water and electricity bills have always been stable, except for the period after Lin Tingchao's bone marrow surgery and before she went abroad, when the water and electricity bills soared to their peak."
“Lin Tingchao’s identity is questionable and his behavior is abnormal. In addition, there is evidence linking him to the cleaning lady,” Zhu Qing said. “Combined with the contact between Kuang Xiaoyan and her before her disappearance, we have reason to suspect that there may be key evidence hidden in the basement.”
The sound of debate echoed in the conference room.
Some speculate that Kuang Xiaoyan is being held captive in the basement, while others firmly believe that the imprisoned person is a real heiress.
"Could it be—that he has been imprisoned for a long time?"
"It's also possible that there's nothing at all."
"Then we'll get a real dressing down from Inspector Ong..."
Mo Zhenbang glanced at them and said, "What are you afraid of? In the end, I'll be the one to take the blame."
"Mr. Mo!" Xu Jiale rushed back, leaning against the conference room door, panting heavily. "The neighbors said they seemed to hear a woman crying and screaming coming from the Lin family's basement late at night."
The officers' eyes lit up instantly, and they turned to look at Officer Mo.
"Apply for a search warrant first," Mo Zhenbang decided.
Just then, a bell rang, breaking the solemn atmosphere.
"Zhu Qing, answer the phone," Zeng Yongshan reminded her.
"It's not mine."
The cell phone rang for a long time before Mo Zhenbang slowly took it out of his pocket.
He pretended to be calm, but couldn't hide the smug smile on his face.
Mo Sir was overjoyed to get his new gear.
And what most people are even less likely to know is—
In Mr. Mo's family report on their application to purchase a mobile phone, the name "Zhu Qing" was mentioned repeatedly.
How can a superior be outdone by a subordinate?
This reason is sufficient!
...
Applying for a search warrant takes more than a few minutes; by the time it was approved through multiple layers of review, it was already the next morning.
That is, Sunday.
When Zhu Qing received the notification, it was just dawn. She didn't even have time for breakfast; she grabbed a slice of toast, took a bite, and rushed out the door.
In the bedroom, little Fangfang was still sound asleep, her chubby little face rising and falling gently with her breath.
It wasn't until after eight o'clock that a fluffy little head poked out from under the covers.
"Aunt Ping, what time are we leaving?" A childish voice broke the morning's tranquility.
"When is the young master planning to leave?"
Fangfang announced without hesitation: "Right away!"
This weekend, for the first time ever, the young master didn't complain about how boring he was.
Because Aunt Ping was going to take him to a sanatorium.
Besides visiting her older sister, Fangfang also needs to visit Qingzai's mother for her, who is so busy she's practically running around!
One can imagine that Qingzai is probably busy at some crime scene right now.
Fangfang, on the other hand, obediently let Aunt Ping hold her hand and stroll slowly through the streets and alleys in the morning.
"Young master, this is the place." Aunt Ping stopped in front of the fruit shop at the end of the street. "The fruit here is fresh and cheap."
Older people are always willing to walk an extra twenty minutes just to save a few dollars per pound of apples.
Fangfang looked down at his little sneakers and felt a little wronged, but Aunt Ping and Qingzai had both taught him that he shouldn't be wasteful.
The Hong Kong tycoon straightened his back.
That's right, thrift and frugality are virtues!
Shengfang, carrying a small basket, tiptoed among the rows of fruits on the shelf, picking and choosing.
The children didn't know what their older sister liked to eat, so they had to choose according to their own tastes.
He wants the reddest and plumpest strawberries, the glistening grapes, and he won't eat mangoes—he's allergic to them, and maybe his older sister is too.
The kind fruit shop owner helped tie a beautiful fruit basket. Fangfang tried to lift it; it was so heavy she couldn't carry it. So she grabbed a corner of the basket and followed behind Aunt Ping like a little train in kindergarten.
The corridors of the sanatorium were always filled with the smell of disinfectant.
Aunt Ping skillfully turned Sheng Peirong over and washed her, and little Fangfang also helped in a similar manner.
"Young master, don't poke at the young lady's arm like that," Aunt Ping couldn't help but chuckle. "It'll make her uncomfortable."
"Tell me if you feel unwell." Fangfang leaned close to the hospital bed and earnestly instructed, then answered herself, "Never mind, never mind, I can't tell you now, I'll tell you when you wake up."
The child's innocent words sounded especially clear in the ward.
Aunt Ping quietly turned her face away, her eyes unconsciously reddening.
As Dean Luo passed by, he couldn't help but stop and look.
In the past, only Miss Sheng Er stayed in this ward alone, but now it is always full of life. He recalled that when he was handling the procedures for Sheng Peirong's overseas treatment, no matter how complicated the documents were, Zhu Qing could always prepare them within 24 hours. Once, he saw her rushing in and out, obviously too busy to stop, but still cooperating with the hospital's requirements.
And now, the old man and the young girl are sharing the burden of worry for that busy figure in their own way.
So many people are hoping and longing for the moment when the person in the hospital bed opens their eyes...
So, you must get better.
...
At 8:40 a.m., three police cars stopped in front of the Lin family villa.
The car doors opened one after another, and the officers from the Major Crimes Unit and the Forensic Science Department quickly got out and lined up. Following them was Dr. Cheng from the Forensic Medicine Department, a configuration that Mo Zhenbang had specifically requested, taking into account the possibility of biological evidence in the basement.
"This is a search warrant." Mo Zhenbang handed the document to Lin's father, who opened the door, his voice deep and authoritative. "We now suspect that your family is involved in the disappearance of Kuang Xiaoyan. Please cooperate with the investigation."
Lin Weizong, wearing a bathrobe, turned to look at his wife.
Mai Shuxian spoke first, turning to her daughter standing on the stairs and asking, "Who is Kuang Xiaoyan?"
"It's that girl who used to follow Tingchao." Lin Weizong put his arm around his wife's shoulder, his brows furrowed slightly. "What happened to her?"
Mo Zhenbang did not answer, but with a gesture, the police officers immediately scattered and began their work.
Lin Tingchao stood at the corner of the spiral staircase, his fingertips gripping the railing tightly until his knuckles turned white.
Police have begun their work, and inquiries can be heard from every corner of the villa.
Liang Qikai and Xiao Sun stood in front of Lin Tingchao's father, Lin Weizong, and opened the notebook to take notes.
"Mr. Lin, how many times did you two visit Miss Lin during her studies abroad?"
When was this audio equipment installed?
Meanwhile, Tsang Wing-shan and Mrs. Lam sat facing each other.
"Mrs. Lin, has Miss Lin's old ankle injury healed?"
"Could I see a picture of her when she was a child?"
This is typical police rhetoric: using irrelevant questions to lower the other party's guard.
The pen scratched across the paper, and Zhu Qing's gaze lingered on Lin Tingchao's parents' faces, pausing for a moment.
“Madam?” Lin Tingchao gently raised his slender hand in front of her.
"Miss Lin," Zhu Qing said suddenly, withdrawing her gaze, "what medications are needed after a bone marrow transplant?"
The polite smile on the other person's face faltered: "What?"
Zhu Qing spoke slowly and deliberately, staring into her eyes, and repeated the question.
Lin Tingchao raised his hand to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, a hint of panic in his eyes.
"They were all brought by the nurses; they were colorful pills, but I didn't notice."
The eye contact seemed to make her uneasy, and after a moment, Lin Tingchao turned her gaze away.
The group had reached the entrance to the basement.
Lin Weizong and Mai Shuxian remained calm, but Lin Tingchao's fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly. He then clasped his hands together, pretending nothing had happened.
"What do you think will be next?" Zeng Yongshan asked in a low voice.
“Kwong Siu-yin?” Liang Qikai replied in a breathy voice, “Or maybe nothing at all… The Lin family knows the police are investigating this case, and even if they imprisoned Kwong Siu-yin, they would have already moved her.”
The police approached the basement step by step.
Zhu Qing's gaze swept back and forth between Lin Tingchao and her parents.
If the real Lin Tingchao has disappeared, were these elite parents really completely unaware?
Police have investigated Kwong Siu-yin's background. She dropped out of school at the age of fifteen, lived in a cage home since childhood, but suddenly appeared at a prestigious school at the age of sixteen wearing a custom-made school uniform.
How could a poor girl who couldn't even afford to eat have the money to buy a school uniform? How could she sneak into the school?
Later, while working in a discount clothing store, what gave her the right to daydream of "becoming a swan"?
More importantly, it's about cosmetic surgery—
Immigration records show that Kwong Siu-yin never left Hong Kong, yet she was able to complete cross-border plastic surgery using Lam Ting-chiu's passport? She can't even speak English fluently, yet she could find a plastic surgery hospital as soon as she got off the plane and perfectly replicate another person's appearance?
This intricately linked plan was something a girl from a cage home couldn't possibly accomplish on her own.
With a click, the door lock popped open, interrupting all of Zhu Qing's thoughts.
The basement door was pushed open.
The stairs were narrow, and with each step, the wooden steps creaked under the weight of the weight.
The basement was surprisingly empty, and a musty smell filled the nostrils.
That makes perfect sense; it would be foolish not to clean up the scene knowing you're being watched by the police.
But if someone is truly imprisoned here for a long period of time, even the most cunning criminal cannot erase all traces.
Lin Weizong turned on the light and said, "I don't know why you're searching my house, but this basement..."
He pointed to the huge floor-to-ceiling mirror in the basement.
The large floor-to-ceiling mirror on this wall exposes every shroud of darkness.
“It used to be my daughter’s dance studio,” he explained. “It was abandoned afterward. The officer came here because—”
"Turn off the lights," Cheng Xinglang interrupted him.
The lights were turned off.
Zhu Qing's gaze was firmly fixed on Cheng Xinglang's direction.
In the darkness, the sound of the reagent being sprayed was exceptionally clear.
Lin Weizong and Mai Shuxian shook their heads helplessly.
“We haven’t seen that girl for many years.”
"How could her disappearance have anything to do with us?"
However, as they offered their explanations, a blue-green fluorescence slowly appeared on the walls and floor—
Handprints from the struggle, drag marks, and even dried blood scabs stuck in the cracks of the floor.
Everyone held their breath in disbelief.
Lin Weizong and Mai Shu took a step back in unison, their indoor slippers scraping against the floor with a dull thud.
Zeng Yongshan suddenly covered her mouth with her hand.
The report on the severed toe submitted by Dr. Cheng to the Major Crimes Unit clearly stated that the girl was still alive at least at the moment her toe was cut off.
But now, with these bloodstains... Zeng Yongshan dared not think about it any further.
Was that her last struggle?
“What…is this?” Mai Shuxian tugged at her husband’s sleeve.
Where is she?
"We...we don't know what you're talking about."
The couple's performance was truly terrible.
Lin Weizong's constantly shifting gaze, Mai Shuxian's unnaturally twitching lips—every micro-expression was a silent confession.
Lin Tingchao was still frozen on the wooden stairs.
Her feet didn't move an inch, but because of her slight trembling, the steps creaked and groaned, one after another, like a sigh.
"Can DNA still be detected?" Zhu Qing's voice was unusually clear in the darkness.
"Try your best."
Dr. Cheng crouched down and carefully collected a sample with a cotton swab.
His gaze was terrifyingly focused, as if he could see through the fluorescent traces and witness the tragedy of that year.
"Inspector Mo," Xiao Sun suddenly called out.
The ventilation duct screws showed signs of being tampered with, and a stack of papers, accompanied by the smell of blood, fell out of the disassembled duct.
Mai Shuxian grabbed her husband's collar.
Lin Tingchao, pale-faced, rushed down the stairs—or rather, it was Kuang Xiaoyan.
Zhu Qing finally understood that this was not a replacement that could be done overnight.
It was a meticulously planned project that lasted seven years.
It wasn't that Kuang Xiaoyan stole Lin Tingchao's life and deceived her parents...
Instead, it was Lin Weizong and Mai Shuxian who found her—
They found a girl who looked remarkably like their daughter.
Hire renowned dance instructors, send them abroad for cosmetic surgery, refine every detail...
They spent seven years creating a perfect stand-in by hand.
To pass off a fake as real.
But what exactly happened seven years ago?
What made these parents willing to take the risk and embark on this path of no return?
The paper that fell out of the ventilation duct at this moment was not Lin Tingchao's diary.
Instead, it was a question.
Each one was covered with twisted writing in dark brown bloodstains—
"Why?"
"I am Tingchao."
"You know that!"
This is an accusation painted in blood.
The swan that once shone on the stage never understood why it was betrayed by its closest relatives.
The police also wanted to know why.
They simply cannot deduce Lin Weizong and Mai Shuxian's motives using common sense.
"Bring them all back," Mo Zhenbang sighed. "Interrogate them carefully."
...
Aunt Ping really can't do anything with the kids.
She said that the weather has been cool lately, there is no traffic jam or queue during the day, and the minibus station is nearby... so taking the minibus home is the most convenient option.
The young master initially shook his head vigorously, but was eventually coaxed and tricked into getting into the car.
Unlike taxis, minibuses don't stop directly in front of homes. After arriving at their stop, they walk back, passing by the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
As she passed the police station gate, Fangfang deliberately turned her head to the other side and walked quickly past without looking at anyone.
He wouldn't go in to bring Qingzai soup and offer her comfort.
What if, by some accident, the contact tries to drag him to ballet class again? Police orders are orders he must obey!
“These past two days,” Sheng Fang said with a sense of vicissitude, “I need to lay low for a while.”
"Young master! Look!" Aunt Ping suddenly tugged at his sleeve.
Fangfang looked in the direction she pointed and immediately darted behind a big tree by the roadside to hide.
Just as I feared, Qingzai and her colleagues were coming out of the police station!
Who delivered it?
"I don't know, I just left it here."
Uncle Li carefully weighed the package in his hand, gestured for the young officers to step back, and then opened the box himself.
Inside, there was only a light, anonymous letter.
The printed text was neatly arranged. Zhu Qing leaned closer to take a look, and the first line clearly read—
To those who observe swans.
Fangfang, who was hiding in the distance, couldn't help but peek out and observe with bated breath.
The little one's brows furrowed into wavy lines.
No, that's suspicious and furtive. How did the police turn into thieves?
"I knew it, I shouldn't have taken the minibus," he muttered under his breath.
"Young master, calling a taxi every day is so expensive!"
"It's not like we don't have money..."
"That's not how it works, it's not worth it, my little darling."
An old man and a cat, both crouching low, hid behind a big tree, like they were in a police and gangster movie.
Suddenly, Fangfang's eyes lit up: "Aunt Ping, why don't you learn to ride a motorcycle!"
"Young master, don't joke with me," Aunt Ping said awkwardly. "I'm already this old, isn't this inappropriate?"
"Why do you think that way?" Fangfang patted her shoulder. "In martial arts movies, people your age can fly."
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