Chapter 63 "So—boring—"
It was clearly after-school free time, and Fangfang could have been comfortably lounging on the sofa at home watching cartoons or rolling around on the carpet. But he insisted on coming with Zhu Qing to investigate a case, queuing outside for over an hour. When it was finally his turn, his excited little face was completely unrestrained, as if he were on a picnic.
After all, he was the youngest uncle in a family of police officers, and Fangfang was naturally bold. Even when his colleagues mentioned dismemberment cases, he could remain calm and composed.
When he lifted the curtain and entered the sorceress's room, his eyes lit up, and he greeted her very politely.
"Grandma Huang." Sheng Fang waved her little hand.
The sorceress's room was dark and filled with the smoke of incense.
She scattered copper coins on the table, closed her eyes, and began to mutter incantations all night.
After the children sat down, he shut his mouth. This was something he had promised Qingzai outside—not to talk too much nonsense!
Even a three-year-old has principles; he not only promised not to talk much—
They didn't even say a word, just like a tightly closed little seashell.
However, at the same time, the little seashell is always busy.
He stared at the sorceress, mimicking her movements, placing both hands on his knees, his thumbs and forefingers pinched together as he silently calculated.
Fangfang was confused and didn't quite understand the conversation between Qingzai and the fortune teller that followed.
"The idea of exchanging lives has existed since ancient times." Granny Huang slowly opened her cloudy eyes, her voice hoarse. "It requires birth date and time, personal keepsakes, and the flesh and blood of a living person."
These words coincide with the statement Rong Zimei gave when she reported the case.
Zhu Qing recalled the details recorded in the case file: Kuang Xiaoyan would secretly collect Lin Tingchao's discarded hair ties, used tissues, and even straws... This girl from a poor family once told her cousin that this would allow her to "get lucky".
"Get lucky?" Granny Huang sneered, a strange smile curving her withered lips. "How do you know it wasn't deliberately left behind by those rich people? These wealthy families are experts in evil and crooked ways."
"You mean, Lin Tingchao deliberately left these personal items behind to lure Kuang Xiaoyan into collecting them and completing the ritual you mentioned?"
“Wealthy families believe in this the most. They find a poor person whose fate is compatible with theirs, first use small favors to gain their trust, and then get the poor person to make a vow to give their life.” Granny Huang paused. “Fifteen years ago in Happy Valley, a rich man’s daughter was seriously ill and found a farm girl whose fate was compatible with his.”
"And then what?"
The fortune teller didn't answer, closed her eyes again, and her wrinkled hands flipped through the copper coins on the table.
"I stopped doing these life-shortening things a long time ago; they're such a sin..."
Zhu Qing recalled the case files at the police station.
If what Rong Zimei said is true, then Kuang Xiaoyan's disappearance is indeed related to Lin Tingchao—
Is the Lin family trying to use Kwong Siu-yin as a scapegoat?
The idea of exchanging lives is just a pretext using ghosts and monsters. Zhu Qing firmly believes that everything is due to human nature.
However, there are other ways to avert disaster besides metaphysics.
Behind this, there may be a conspiracy and a murder.
When Zhu Qing left, she placed the money under the incense burner. The sorceress remained with her eyes closed, neither thanking her nor glancing at her again.
As the heavy curtain fell behind her, Fangfang, who had been keeping her mouth pursed and silent, immediately started circling around her like a bird that had regained its freedom.
"Qingzai, Qingzai, can I talk now?" The little one tugged at her clothes, his round eyes full of surprise. "Can she really tell fortunes? Why do the coins move by themselves?"
They only stayed in the shaman's house for ten minutes, but the little boy seemed to have a lot to say. On the way home, he treated himself to a feast, gesturing wildly and talking nonstop, like a little audience member who had just watched a wonderful performance.
When they got home, the young master vividly recounted his evening's events to Aunt Ping.
Aunt Ping was a good listener; she listened with surprise while deftly changing the bedding for the two of them—
She suddenly felt the weather was getting cooler before going to bed, so she got up to prepare.
“That’s it!” Sheng Fang found a piece of yellow paper and drew a Bagua diagram on it with a “swish, swish, swish” sound. Then, barefoot, she went to find coins.
He held up his homemade ritual implement, his little face beaming with pride: "Qingzai, look—"
Zhu Qing interrupted him: "Go to sleep."
Fangfang, the little boy, showed an expression of strong disapproval.
He stood on tiptoe and slapped the colorful talisman on Zhu Qing's back, shouting in a childish voice, "Change! You can't see me!"
A precocious child despite his small stature.
"..." Zhu Qing grabbed him by the back of his shirt and led him back to the children's room, "Go to sleep."
"Once I learn magic..." Sheng Fang twisted and turned in bed, "the first thing I'll do is turn you into a little pig!"
...
Zhu Qing had to adapt to the suddenly accelerated work pace, while Sheng Fang also had to continue to adapt to the suddenly empty days.
Actually, even a few days ago, he had to go to school and his niece had to go to work.
But at least from evening onwards, the uncle and nephew can snuggle on the sofa, one flipping through medical books about post-operative care for vegetative state patients, the other looking at picture books. Or they might squat together in front of the TV, laughing foolishly at cartoons.
Unlike now, when Qingzai comes home very late, Fangfang lies on the balcony under Aunt Ping's "supervision," eagerly waiting for Qingzai's figure to appear downstairs.
It's like a stone waiting for its nephew.
Fortunately, the child's frustration came and went quickly.
He found a new focus.
Fangfang stood in front of the calendar, tapping the numbers with her finger: "It's Wednesday!"
Shengfang remembers that Qingzai said at the amusement park that her second sister's case would be sentenced on Wednesday.
"Qingzai, I want to go to court!" Fangfang looked up at him with her little face.
Zhu Qing's gaze fell on the calendar.
Four months have passed since the Half-Mountain Skeleton Case was closed, and Sheng Peishan's case has reached the final trial stage. That day, she received a court notice and told Fangfang, but she never thought of bringing him to court.
In the original storyline, the minor antagonist was constantly gossiped about because of Sheng Peishan. Every time he angrily retaliated, their laughter grew even more malicious.
"What? Do you want to kill someone like your second sister?"
But the little villain back then didn't understand at all. Sheng Peishan had wronged many people, but she had never wronged Sheng Fang. If someone said she was bad, he would fight them; if someone said she deserved to die, he would curse back. No one ever told him that family and right and wrong should not be confused.
The image of the skeleton in the fireplace of the villa halfway up the mountain flashed through Zhu Qing's mind.
She recalled He Jia'er's mother, tears streaming down her face, covering her face and choking back sobs as she spoke—
"Let me be your daughter... still somewhere in the world, working as her war correspondent."
Zhu Qing didn't want Fang Fang to witness the cruelty of her family being tried.
But he must be made to understand right from wrong.
Listen quietly as it blooms.
He still had a custard bun stuffed in his mouth, and he held a glass in both hands, sipping warm milk in small sips.
Thick milk skin clung to the corner of his mouth, and Zhu Qing gently wiped it away with a tissue.
"Like an old man with a white beard." She smiled slightly.
Fangfang immediately corrected: "It's the white-bearded old uncle!"
Zhu Qing successfully diverted Fang Fang's attention.
But after a long time, the child suddenly put down the cup.
"Don't think you've succeeded yet—"
"What?"
"I remember," the young master of the Sheng family squinted, "but I'm not going."
"A crime is a crime," Qingzai said, adding that her second sister would pay the price for her actions.
But the lives that suddenly vanished under her shovel were something she could never repay.
Shengfang is still young, but he understands so many principles. That's why Zhu Qing always looks him straight in the eye and talks to him earnestly.
Qingzai told him that every life is precious.
Fangfang nodded vigorously and swallowed the last bite of the soft custard bun.
He remembered!
...
Early in the morning, as Zhu Qing stepped into the police station, she saw Xiao Sun and Zeng Yongshan hurrying out.
Rong Zimei's whereabouts have been found.
"Her specific address is not recorded in the supermarket's personnel file, and her colleagues all say they don't know her well."
“The old address of the household registration office is outdated. Rong Zimei and her mother moved away many years ago.”
"Fortunately, a supermarket employee recalled that Rong Zimei had taken leave because her mother was hospitalized, which helped us pinpoint the hospital's location and the specific ward."
Zhu Qing, Zeng Yongshan, and Xiao Sun arrived at the hospital, passed through the inpatient department, and found room 301 on the third floor at the corner.
Pushing open the ward door, six beds were arranged closely together.
At this time, the visitors had not yet arrived, so it was not too noisy.
Rong Zimei was sitting on the edge of the bed, massaging her mother's palms and arms with practiced movements.
When the police showed their identification and explained their purpose, she stopped what she was doing: "Let's talk here."
"The nurse will be coming to check on you soon, so I need to wait here."
"You just said you found Xiao Yan's finger?" Rong Zimei asked.
"It's a missing toe."
Rong's mother, lying in her hospital bed, suffered a severe stroke. Her crooked mouth emitted muffled sobs as she clutched her daughter's clothes.
"It's alright," Rong Zimei patted her mother's hand reassuringly. "It's because of Xiaoyan."
The investigation revealed that the relationship between the mother and daughter and Kwong Siu-yin was more complicated than imagined. Although Yung Chi-mei and Kwong Siu-yin were "cousins," their families were extremely distant, merely a loose link in the family genealogy, and they rarely interacted. Their relationship was only rekindled later because they lived closer together. The store owner's testimony corroborated this, confirming that Kwong Siu-yin's parents were indeed idle and restless, and that young Kwong Siu-yin often hid at her cousin's house with her homework.
After finishing her homework, Kuang Xiaoyan always needed to eat. At first, Rong's mother would prepare her portion because she felt sorry for her.
Back then, the mother and daughter relied on each other for survival and were not well-off either. Over time, neither of them could bear the burden.
“My mom talked to Xiaoyan’s mom…” Rong Zimei recalled, her eyes glazed over, “She gave my mom some money, not much, just enough to buy groceries.”
In other words, for a long period of time, Kuang Xiaoyan and Rong Zimei were very close.
When was the last time you saw her?
Rong Zimei filled in this information on the form she filled out when reporting the case.
At this point, her account was much more detailed than when she reported the incident.
“She had already been fired from the clothing store and couldn’t find another job,” Rong Zimei said. “Her parents disliked her at home, and she couldn’t stand it anymore, so she came to my house… She kept saying that she had been blessed with good fortune and that she would definitely be blessed with good fortune.”
"Xiao Yan was proud and arrogant. She didn't want to be a waitress, saying that it was a job of serving people."
"But with our educational background, this is the kind of job we can only do. What else can we do?"
“I advised her to be down-to-earth,” she continued. “Xiao Yan wouldn’t listen. The last time we met, we had a fight. She ran away from my house. I thought she would come back, like before. But I never expected that Xiao Yan would never show up again.”
After that, they never contacted each other again.
In other words, the time frame of "disappeared for three years" mentioned by Rong Zimei is not accurate and may be several months inaccurate.
“I told you long ago, Lin Tingchao definitely has a problem,” Rong Zimei said. “You’ve found out, haven’t you?”
However, when the police asked her about "Lin Tingchao," she shook her head.
"I don't know what school she goes to, what she does for a living, and I've never met her."
"It was Xiao Yan who told me."
“I told her that this person was strange, but she wouldn’t listen and insisted on getting close to Lin Tingchao.”
Xiao Yan felt that a rich person's words carried far more weight than those of her poor cousin.
Where are Kuang Xiaoyan's parents?
Rong Zimei's lips curled into a sarcastic smile: "One drank himself to death on the roadside, and the other ran off with someone else."
Just then, a nurse came in pushing a medicine cart to check on the patients.
Rong Zimei sat by her mother's bedside the whole time, carefully tucking the blankets around the elderly woman.
Before leaving, the police suddenly asked, "Why did the severed toe appear as soon as you called the police?"
“I called the police six months ago,” Rong Zimei said. “Those people at the Cheung Sha Wan Police Station think I’m crazy.”
Zhu Qing handed her business card to Rong Zimei: "Contact us anytime if you remember anything."
As the police turned to leave, they caught a glimpse of Rong Zimei folding her business card in half and stuffing it into the pocket of her faded jeans.
As the nurse pushed the medicine cart closer, Rong Zimei immediately looked up, her voice filled with anxiety.
"Nurse, my mom kept pointing to her head last night, it seems like she's dizzy, is that alright?"
"Does the blood pressure medication prescribed by the doctor have side effects?"
"No...it's not that I don't trust doctors..."
Rong Zimei's voice gradually faded into the distance.
In the hallway, Zeng Yongshan lowered her voice: "She really has nothing to do with this?"
"It's hard to say about other things." Xiao Sun pursed his lips. "The Cheung Sha Wan Police Station is notorious for its slow handling of cases. The files in the Complaints Section are piled up higher than a person."
...
In the criminal investigation team's office, papers and files covered the workstations.
Zhu Qing slammed Kuang Xiaoyan's student file heavily on the table, raising a cloud of dust.
"Be careful," Zeng Yongshan said immediately. "Didn't the doctor tell you to avoid lifting heavy objects?"
"Don't mention it." Zhu Qing pursed her lips. "It's not that I don't want to mention it."
"Be careful, or I'll tell your uncle."
When her talkative uncle was mentioned, the niece became quiet and handed over the rest of the stack of documents to Haozai.
“I’ve checked. Kwong Siu-yin dropped out of school in Form 3. The list of all her classmates and even alumni before Form 3 is here.”
"After searching through the entire list of teachers and students, there is no such person as Lin Tingchao."
Xu Jiale pointed to the household registration information: "There are thirteen people named Lin Tingchao in all of Hong Kong. Either their ages don't match, or their genders don't match."
Uncle Li took the documents and almost laughed in exasperation: "One is an immigrant, one is deceased, one has a fake identity... the rest are either 70-year-olds or minors?"
Zhu Qing stared at the existing information on the whiteboard, her brows furrowed.
This situation reminded her of the girl named Lam Hei-yan who attempted suicide at Hart College. At the time, she also only had a vague name and no one could be found. They had to focus their investigation on major events throughout Hong Kong before they finally found her.
What method should we use this time?
Or, could it be that this person never existed at all?
Zeng Yongshan and Zhu Qing share the same concerns.
She pondered for a moment and said, "Do you think Rong Zimei might be misleading us? Maybe there's no such thing as Lin Tingchao at all."
"But we checked the files at the Cheung Sha Wan Police Station, and it's true that Rong Zimei called the police about her cousin six months ago. If she orchestrated this whole thing herself, what was her motive?"
"It doesn't seem like it. I've forgotten what the nurses said this morning?"
Police had already obtained the nurse's testimony before she left the hospital that morning.
At this moment, Zhu Qing opened her notebook.
"After being fired, she spent almost 24 hours a day in the hospital room."
“When I worked as a cashier at the supermarket, I couldn’t even afford my mother’s medical expenses. Now that I take care of her full-time, I’ve actually saved on caregiving fees.”
Zeng Yongshan recalled Rong Zimei's state of mind during their two meetings.
"Actually, it's only natural to want to report my cousin missing to the police so we can find her."
"Our occupational disease is incurable; no matter who we meet, our first thought is always that of a murderer."
“I am more inclined to believe that Rong Zimei was unaware of the situation, but before drawing conclusions, we must first confirm the existence of a person named ‘Lin Tingchao’.”
Zhu Qing kept her head down, her fingertips gently tracing the list of Kuang Xiaoyan's alumni from her primary and secondary school years.
"Oh, right." She looked up at Xu Jiale, "Do you remember what the shop owner's son's name was?"
Yesterday on the phone, the other party's reaction when they heard the name "Kwong Siu-yin" was too abnormal, unlike that of a normal neighbor.
The shop owner mentioned that his son was Kwong Siu-yin's primary school classmate.
"It seems the old lady did call out her son's name..." Xu Jiale patted his forehead. "What was it again? I clearly remember—"
"Shh!" Zeng Yongshan winked at them.
Heavy footsteps approached, growing ever closer.
"What are you shushing about?" Weng Zhaolin glanced at the messy office. "How many times have I told you, there's a method to investigating cases."
"Investigating like this... to solve a case? It's much faster to wait for the murderer to turn himself in!"
...
As it turned out, Ong Siu-lun was right this time; the young police officer lacked experience and took an unnecessary detour on Fuk Hop Street.
This time, after leaving the store at the end of the alley, they went straight to the "Good Luck" mahjong parlor.
The moment he pushed open the glass door, a strong smell of smoke rushed out, catching Xu Jiale off guard and causing him to cough repeatedly.
He turned to look at Zhu Qing, whose cold-faced Madam remained calm, making him seem like a rookie policeman.
"Why aren't you coughing?" Xu Jiale's voice was still hoarse from coughing.
Zhu Qing: "I'm holding my breath."
He held it in until his voice changed slightly.
Not particularly relaxed...
Zhu Qing frowned and waved her hand rapidly in front of her, trying to disperse the smoke.
The mahjong parlor was filled with smoke. They showed their identification to the owner and then walked straight to the table at the very back.
A man as thin as a bamboo pole was about to play a card when he saw the police approaching, and the cigarette dangling from his mouth almost fell off.
"Sir, what's the matter?" His voice was muffled by the smoke in his mouth.
Zhu Qing cut to the chase: "Do you know Kuang Xiaoyan?"
The bamboo pole man's real name is Yao Zhiyong.
He paused for a moment, then put down the mahjong tiles: "You guys play first, I'll be right back."
"Hey, seriously?" his card-playing friend complained, "We're one short, how are we supposed to play?"
Ignoring his companion's complaints, Yao Zhiyong led the police to a small cubicle at the very back of the mahjong parlor.
He habitually reached for his cigarette case again, but when he looked up and met Zhu Qing's sharp gaze, he awkwardly stuffed the cigarette case back into his pocket.
"Do you know Kuang Xiaoyan?" Xu Jiale asked again, this time emphasizing his words.
"I know him, we were elementary school classmates," Yao Zhiyong said casually.
"Just classmates?" Xu Jiale took a step closer. "I heard you pursued her?"
This unexpected question clearly hit the nail on the head.
Yao Zhiyong had no idea that the officer was just bluffing him. At this moment, his expression became unnatural, and he scratched the back of his head.
"Who told you that?" he said sullenly. "You're such a chatterbox. That happened years ago..."
Under persistent questioning from the two police officers, Yao Zhiyong finally confessed.
"Yes, I did have a crush on her, but that's all in the past!"
"She asked me what I could give her? What a joke! It's just food and clothing. Do you think I would let her go hungry?"
"I didn't let my parents know about this. If they did, they wouldn't be happy either. What kind of family does she come from? She's not good enough for me."
A glint of resentment flashed in Yao Zhiyong's eyes, his voice filled with disdain: "What kind of rich young lady does Kuang Xiaoyan think she is? Living in a dilapidated tin shack, all she's good for is being pretty—"
“She dropped out of school a long time ago. I saw her once in Sham Shui Po at that ‘Pretty Girl Fashion’ shop, which is one of those shabby shops in an alley. The shop was cracked... She was wearing cheap clothes and trying to walk like a model, twisting and turning.”
Yao Zhiyong exaggeratedly straightened his back and mocked Kuang Xiaoyan in a high-pitched voice: "Always pretending to be high and mighty, I don't know what kind of daydreams you're having all day long. A pheasant is a pheasant, but it wants to become a phoenix."
Xu Jiale interrupted his malicious recollection: "So you turned love into hate?"
"Officer, don't talk nonsense!" Yao Zhiyong jumped up and down in a panic. "I haven't been in contact with her since then. We're just neighbors who nod to each other when we meet!"
"The last time we met? I really can't remember. She rejected me, and I can't keep hanging around in front of her... Officer, I have my pride too."
Do you have any photos of Kwong Siu-yin?
"There should be—"
"Take it out."
"Officer, is she some kind of celestial being descended to earth? Should I carry her photo with me at all times?" Yao Zhiyong scoffed. "I certainly don't have one on me right now, but I might have some childhood photos of us at home."
"It seems to be a performance for the school anniversary celebration... Our class performed a play together, and we should have taken a group photo."
Xu Jiale and Zhu Qing exchanged a glance.
He nodded: "Take us to your house to look for it."
Yao Zhiyong reluctantly led them through several narrow alleys, muttering, "What a hassle, it's been so many years... I was having a lucky streak just now, finally got a hand of pure flush..."
Yao Zhiyong looked unhappy and muttered to himself about Kuang Xiaoyan. He had never let Kuang Xiaoyan get the slightest advantage before, but now that she had disappeared, she was causing him trouble.
He stopped in front of an old house and took out his keys.
Zhu Qing and Xu Jiale waited at the door.
Nearly forty minutes later, Yao Zhiyong suddenly held up a yellowed photo album: "Found it!"
That was a performance for the third grade of elementary school during the school's anniversary celebration. Their class performed "Snow White".
“Kuang Xiaoyan wanted to play a princess, but the teacher disagreed. A princess has to prepare her own dress, which her family couldn’t afford,” Yao Zhiyong said with a contemptuous tone. “Later, she played a dwarf, but she wore a tattered handmade hat.”
In the photo, a group of children dressed in various costumes stand in front of the stage backdrop.
Kuang Xiaoyan stood in the corner, her pretty face devoid of any smile, only her bright eyes flashing with resentment.
That stubborn expression was exactly the same as the raised chin she had in the photo in front of the tin shack.
"Dude, a photo from third grade?" Xu Jiale rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to recognize someone from over ten years ago?"
"This is the only one left," Yao Zhiyong said.
Zhu Qing carefully put the photo into the evidence bag: "Please come with us to the police station to assist with the sketching."
On the official vehicle returning to the police station, the enclosed interior made Zhu Qing suddenly realize that she smelled of smoke on herself.
She pulled up her collar and smelled it, then frowned.
Having only spent a short time in the mahjong parlor, the smell of tobacco had already permeated his clothes.
An elderly person's nose is even more sensitive than a puppy's; if they smell something, they'll definitely give them a stern lecture.
Qingzai, smoking is bad for your health!
...
The children can feel the sincerity of Weston Kindergarten.
Since the start of the school year, their schedules have always been varied and innovative, constantly finding new ways to keep the children happy.
At this moment, Teacher Ji led them in playing a game called "Mini Supermarket".
The day before, the teacher asked the children to bring household items from home, which were also readily available in the classroom. After setting up their "shelves," the children were ready to start the game. Including Shengfang, there were thirteen children in the class, divided into two groups: sales assistants and customers. The sales assistants had to also handle the cashier's work, while the customers were already engrossed in browsing the shelves with small, quick steps.
There were thirteen children in total, divided into two groups, with one child remaining.
The young master asked earnestly, "Teacher, can I be the supermarket owner?"
Teacher Ji: ...
"No, we haven't assigned the role of the boss."
Fangfang pressed further, "Where's the HR manager?"
This is also a word that Shengfang just learned. My niece and her colleagues found out that the supermarket's HR manager mentioned it when they got home.
The little one has seen so much of the world, but it's tough on Teacher Ji, who has to spend so much time explaining the rules every time.
Teacher Ji sighed deeply and insisted, "Our game can only be played by sales assistants, cashiers, and customers."
“Alright,” Sheng Fang finally said decisively, “I’ll be the customer.”
Coconut Baby and Little Golden Baby, who chose to become shopping guide cashiers, curiously approached.
They asked in unison, "Why?"
"Because being a sales assistant or cashier requires doing math problems," Fangfang whispered to them. "Are you stupid?"
Coconut and Jinbao suddenly realized.
"Teacher! I want to be a customer too!"
"Me too!"
The chorus of sweet, childlike voices echoed throughout the classroom once again. The other children had no idea what was happening and simply followed suit.
Teacher Ji is having a headache.
But she maintained a strong and professional smile and said, "Okay, okay, quiet down, we'll decide by drawing lots now."
Since it's going to be a lottery, it's not up to Fangfang to decide.
The three best friends were very lucky and got to be "customers".
The three of them kept walking around in front of the shelves, chatting about what happened last night.
"I'm going to dance," said Yesi, "wearing the dance shoes Mommy just gave me."
Jinbao: "I play at the gold shop again, it's the same every time I get out of school."
Shengfang recounted her adventure from the previous night, immediately eliciting gasps of amazement from her two friends.
"So what did you ask the fortune teller?"
“Qingzai said it wouldn’t matter even if the kindergarten closed down.” Fangfang sighed, “She will choose a new one.”
I never expected that Fangfang would be so easily subdued by his niece.
While expressing their regret, the other two children brainstormed and came up with new solutions.
"We can buy the kindergarten!"
As Teacher Ji passed by, she heard new ideas popping into their little heads.
Acquire a kindergarten, so students can attend whenever they want and temporarily close when they don't. Isn't that amazing?
"Oh right!" Fangfang's eyes lit up: "And Teacher Ji too—"
Teacher Ji felt a pang of sadness.
They'll definitely kick her out because she makes too many demands on the children.
However, unexpectedly, the soft, childlike chatter drifted over, and she felt as if she had suddenly fallen into a layer of soft clouds.
So warm.
"Let's give Teacher Ji a raise!"
"That way, Teacher Ji won't bother us!"
"Turn a blind eye..."
"Add one hundred yuan!"
"Add another thousand yuan!"
"Add a little more." Jinbao fell into thought. "How much more?"
Fangfang announced: "Of course it's one hundred million!"
Teacher Ji's headache was gone, replaced by a deep sense of gratitude.
The children were much more generous than the principal.
...
At 7 p.m., the lights in the CID room of Yau Ma Tei Police Station shone brightly in the twilight.
Shengfang is a master at finding things to do. After dinner, she grabbed her lunchbox and dragged Aunt Ping along to "visit the set."
This time, Aunt Ping prepared three thermos flasks. As soon as the lids were opened, a rich aroma immediately filled the air.
"Aunt Ping is here to bring everyone evening soup!"
This young master's quirky and clever way of speaking is probably only understandable to Zhu Qing.
His niece knew that his self-made "evening soup" was actually a substitute for "afternoon tea".
The sound of colleagues swallowing their saliva came even before the exclamations of praise.
This is a stewed matsutake mushroom and wild mushroom pigeon soup that Aunt Ping simmered over a low flame for a whole afternoon. The matsutake mushrooms and wild mushrooms are fragrant and the pigeon meat is tender and juicy. Just the smell alone is enough to make your mouth water.
"Everyone gets a share, everyone gets a share." Aunt Ping smiled and quickly ladled out the soup, first serving it to her colleagues at their workstations, and then specially ladled out two bowls, one for Mo Sir and one for Weng Sir.
The colleagues in Group A next door, who stayed behind to write their reports, were incredibly envious, craning their necks to look this way. Group A wasn't so relaxed either, but unfortunately, they didn't have a good boss like the head of Group B, nor did they have a wealthy female colleague who had drifted away, so naturally they couldn't enjoy such a delicious soup.
Fangfang carefully carried the soup towards John's office, her steps slow and steady.
Baby is always reliable, as Aunt Ping has repeatedly told me – the soup I've been simmering all afternoon, with plenty of precious medicinal herbs, is perfect for my hardworking colleagues to replenish their energy and spirit, so be careful not to spill a single drop.
Zhaolin also needs some nourishment.
"Yours." Fangfang didn't knock, but kicked John's office door with her little feet.
Weng Zhaolin got up and opened the door: "I have one too?"
His brow was smoothed out by the thoughtful little iron in front of him, and gradually relaxed.
"Of course you have it!"
His serious expression instantly melted away.
The people at the police station, even when they ate something nice, would never include him. Only this young master of the Sheng family gave him bowl-shaped rice cakes the first time, homemade sweet soup the second time, and soup the third time…
Each time, it warmed his heart.
Weng Zhaolin held the soup bowl and brought it to his lips, the delicious flavor spreading in his mouth.
This is the taste of home, just like many years ago when he first joined the police force, his elderly mother would bring him soup in the same way.
With a look of emotion, Weng Zhaolin raised his hand, about to pat Shengfang's little shoulder, but missed.
He had already run away, kicking his short legs.
Fangfang will continue to be Qingzai's little follower—
I don't have time to listen to Zhaolin's mushy words.
At her workstation, Zhu Qing sipped her soup while keeping an eye on the direction of the technical department.
Yao Zhiyong was brought back to work on the jigsaw puzzle, and it has been a full three hours. His colleagues in the technical department are still adjusting it little by little based on his description.
"After three hours, he still can't piece it together? This guy can't even remember what his first love looked like?"
"What does she look like..." Haozai whispered, "I heard she's very pretty?"
"I heard she's pretty, but her ambition is written all over her face. Yao Zhiyong said she spends all day admiring herself in front of the mirror in a shabby clothing store, wearing cheap clothes and pretending they're designer brands."
So far, the police have not had many leads.
Everyone said that the missing woman, Kuang Xiaoyan, was beautiful and attracted a lot of attention on the street. But her humble origins—a life of hardship—couldn't support the ambition written in her eyes. She couldn't struggle, couldn't escape the mire, and no matter how she flapped her wings, she could never break free from the shackles of fate. She could only watch others' success with envy, forever hiding in a corner, filled with envy.
"Perhaps that's why they were taken advantage of by the wealthy."
"You're not entirely right. Does that mean only people born into privilege deserve to aspire to a good life?"
The office quieted down, with only the sounds of soup being sipped and papers turning softly.
Just then, a series of hurried footsteps broke the silence.
"Inspector Mo, we've found Lin Tingchao!"
“To be precise, it’s not Lin Tingchao,” the other person added. “It should be ‘Lin Tingchao.’ Rong Zimei has only heard this name from Kuang Xiaoyan. The character ‘Ting’ is not commonly used. She’s mistaken.”
“We’ve been searching for ‘Lin Tingchao,’ which is why the household registration department can’t find her information.”
The police officer placed a photo of a ballet competition on the table.
In the center of the photo, a young girl stands gracefully, her toes barely touching the ground, a confident smile on her face.
"Lin Tingchao, first prize winner of the 1988 Hong Kong Youth Ballet Competition."
"After graduating from high school, I went to Julian Ballet School for further studies."
As he finished speaking, he pointed to the attached newspaper clippings—
"Genius girl Lin Tingchao selected to study in the UK"
Zeng Yongshan picked up the newspaper.
"In the Hong Kong Youth Ballet Competition that concluded yesterday, contestant Lin Tingchao completed a segment despite an injury and won the championship."
"It is understood that the athlete had a recurrence of an old ankle injury half a month before the competition and was advised by the doctor to withdraw from the competition. This excellent performance was completed after an injection of painkillers."
She raised her eyebrows: "There really is such a person. Rong Zimei said that she deliberately approached Kuang Xiaoyan. Could it really be related to the 'life swap'?"
The police certainly didn't believe in the idea of exchanging lives, but there were always people who did.
Could it be... that the Lin family has really been doing something shady behind the scenes?
This thought immediately made the atmosphere in the office heavy.
...
I heard that the puzzle from the technology department will be finished soon.
Fangfang wanted to go take a look, but Qingzai held her firmly in front of the table. She said that if she wanted to play with puzzles, she should go to the children's mall in Causeway Bay to buy them, and she couldn't cause trouble at the police station.
Sheng Fang hasn't fully grasped this case yet, and her sense of involvement is weak.
He could only sit on the swivel chair in front of Qingzai's workstation, his cheek pressed against the cool desktop, his little hands idly fiddling with the case files.
"So—suffocating—" he drawled, his little feet dangling back and forth.
The pen nib paused on the document, and Zhu Qing said without looking up, "I'll take you to register for a fencing class tomorrow. The fencing school is in Wan Chai."
"If I fill my week with activities from now on, I won't be bored."
The little one suddenly propped his head up, his eyes wide open: "No, no!"
He didn't want to go to private lessons like he did when he was a child; that would be even more boring than now.
Fangfang patted his chest and said that he was so smart that he could become successful by himself, so why did he need to go to class? Just like playing the drums, even Teacher Jinbao could teach him.
"Don't be arrogant." Zhu Qing tapped him on the forehead with her pen.
The baby covered his little head, complaining pitifully, "Too much force!"
Zhu Qing still remembers that when she first met Fangfang, she grabbed the child and pulled him up.
Beneath the Iron Man suit, a chubby little boy dangles in mid-air, kicking his legs, revealing a children's fencing uniform adorned with medals beneath the cape.
"You can't give up halfway through something." Qingzai's tone was so firm, she didn't intend to give him any room for discussion.
The young master of the Sheng family kept protesting, but he was just bored; it wasn't that he had had enough of the good life.
Who wants a week filled with extracurricular classes? I'm not interested in any of them!
"The puzzle is finished." Xiao Chen from the technical department rushed over, holding a freshly printed portrait in his hand. "Yao Zhiyong made several adjustments; this is the final version."
Everyone crowded around.
All that was left was Fangfang, who was sulking and staring at his niece's back.
"This is Kuang Xiaoyan?"
"He really does resemble Lin Tingchao by about six or seven points."
Zeng Yongshan suddenly remembered something and asked Zhu Qing, "Did you think that old woman Huang mentioned yesterday—'exchanging lives...and the appearances have to be similar'?"
"If Kuang Xiaoyan imitated Lin Tingchao because they naturally looked alike, their fates were completely different—"
"In the end, because of this, the rich people take advantage of one's fate. It's too tragic."
All of this is just baseless speculation. Mo Zhenbang put down the portrait and decisively said, "Go see Lin Tingchao."
The group hurriedly left the house, but the phone suddenly rang.
After finishing the phone call, Sister Zhen, who works in the office, called out from behind—
"Don't go yet! Dr. Cheng said the toe amputation test results are in!"
Before leaving to investigate the case, Zhu Qing handed the baby to Aunt Ping.
At this moment, Aunt Ping was tidying up soup bowls and spoons all over the office.
Behind him, the young master narrowed his dark, grape-like eyes, tilted his head slightly, and took every step with an air of accusation.
"Speak! Was it you?" Inspector Fang had solved the case. "You were the one who gave Qingzai the fencing teacher's phone number!"
"Yes, young master, it was found in an old business card holder in a villa on the hillside."
"The equestrian lessons are taught by Coach Chen from Sha Tin Racecourse, the one who used to teach your older sister..."
"We'll go to the art center for oil painting, and we'll also schedule abacus and astronomy classes. Seven days a week, I gave Qingqing eight business cards."
The little one put his hands on his hips, imitating the pose of a judge on TV—
"Wow, Aunt Ping, you're really arguing your point!"
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