Chapter 25 Picking up the kids from school.
In the original storyline, Sheng Fang walked down a path of no return. But back in the real world, he is now just an innocent child, his tender face full of confusion, not understanding why his niece was so meticulous with money, and even less aware of what falsifying accounts meant.
For the young master of the Sheng family, the astronomical figure on an A4 sheet of paper, no matter how many zeros are added, has the same meaning. These "zeros" are invisible and intangible in his bank account, but if he were to withdraw them, he could improve Qingzai's meals, buy her a pager, a car, and even a house... It's incredibly worthwhile!
Wang, the real estate agent at the Nathan Road agency, patted his chest and declared that he had offered a rock-bottom price, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Zhu Qing, having grown up through thick and thin, was full of life experience and a master of bargaining. She tossed her head and turned to leave. Before the agent arrived, she had already spoken to her uncle. Now, the two of them walked away with an air of nonchalance, as if they hadn't even considered the apartment.
"Miss Zhu! Don't leave yet, give me your pager number!" Agent Wang said. "The price is negotiable. I'll try to negotiate a lower price for you and then call you back, how about that?"
Zhu Qing stopped and wrote down her pager number on the slip of paper that Agent Wang handed her.
The real estate agent clearly saw who was in charge at home. Little Shengfang followed behind Miss Zhu with her short legs kicking, her cheeks puffed out, looking resentful.
He is "Mr. Sheng".
Why did Agent Wang skip over him?
While discussing room rates at the store, Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang each had a boxed lunch, simply finishing their dinner.
On their way back, they passed a tea restaurant. A long queue had formed outside, steaming heat wafted past their noses, and the staff inside were incredibly busy, with the phone ringing incessantly.
The boss quickly jotted down the order on a sticky note, put down the phone, and turned to shout to the kitchen.
"Two servings of char siu rice!"
"A glass of iced lemon tea, not too sweet."
"The egg needs to be runny, man! The egg on station number three is overcooked."
"Urgent order—wonton noodles, serve immediately!"
The turnover rate in the store is so fast it's like a battle. The rags have just been used to wipe the tables, and the water stains haven't even dried yet, when new customers have already ordered and sat down.
A few minutes later, the shop assistant hung the plastic bags full of his hands on the bicycle. The bicycle wheel started rolling, and the shop assistant pedaled hard, almost hitting a pedestrian, shouting "Excuse me, could you spare me?" before disappearing into the afterglow of the setting sun.
Further along, the owner of the open-kitchen roast goose swiftly slices through the crispy skin with a single stroke. He repeats this same action hundreds of times a day…
This street is full of people like this, busy making a living.
The blooming reminded me of the numbers on the A4 paper.
My niece said that some people would risk half their lives for such a sum.
"Did you always do this?" the young master asked.
The minor villain in the original story firmly believed that money is everything.
But today, Qingzai told him that money can indeed solve many problems, but more importantly, it teaches people to cherish things.
Every penny should be spent meaningfully.
She summarized this introductory economics lesson in the calmest tone.
Shengfang seemed to understand but not quite, turning back to look at the passersby coming and going on the street.
Back home, everyone told him that the young master of the Sheng family was born superior to others.
But now, the children have gained a new understanding.
No, that's not it!
The setting sun cast long shadows of them.
I don't know how much time passed, but Shengfang jumped up and down, chasing the swaying silhouette on the ground.
"Qingzai, you went home with Aunt Ping today and they took pictures of you."
"Paparazzi?"
The Sheng family case caused quite a stir some time ago, and the afterglow hasn't completely faded yet.
The tabloid paparazzi had previously photographed this hidden child at the Mid-Levels villa, garnering plenty of media attention, but they weren't quite done with their work. Today, Sheng Fang went back to the Mid-Levels with Aunt Ping to retrieve toys, and the paparazzi finally succeeded in their stakeout, shoving their flashes right in the child's face and snapping away relentlessly, completely disregarding professional ethics.
"Aunt Ping chased them away." Sheng Fang looked up, her eyes bright. "She's super fierce!"
The radiant light of worship shining in his eyes was almost overflowing.
While the children were happily chasing their shadows, Zhu Qing fell into deep thought.
She wondered if she needed to be lectured again. From childhood, her life motto had always been: if you're beaten, you must fight back; if you're hurt, you must make the other person pay the price. Only by raising a hard thorn could she protect herself. But now it seemed that teaching Shengfang in this way would be dragging her uncle down the road to villainy.
Zhu Qing remained silent for a long while.
Shengfang stopped her small steps, craning her neck forward, curious about why her niece was reacting this way.
He jumped up, but still couldn't reach her shoulder. He comforted her, saying, "Don't be sad, you're amazing too."
"You're fiercer!"
The children thought Zhu Qing was silent because she hadn't been praised.
My niece couldn't keep up the conversation.
Uncle, actually, this isn't a compliment.
...
The niece told her uncle that even if they liked the house in Yau Ma Tei, they shouldn't rush things. A few days of psychological maneuvering with the real estate agent would allow them to get a better price.
I'm in a super rush! What if someone steals my new home if I don't pay right away?
Do you think buying an apartment is like buying groceries?
This wasn't the first time the pampered young master had heard a child say something like that.
But he couldn't understand it, and he didn't know what Qingzai meant, since he had never bought groceries before.
"Where should we buy new furniture?" Sheng Fang finally changed the subject.
My uncle doesn't know everything. For example, where to buy new furniture is a real adult matter, and it involves areas where his knowledge is limited.
"Yaliao Street".
"Aren't there a lot of secondhand shops on Apliu Street?" Sheng Fang squinted and pointed out cleverly, "They're not custom-made at all!"
Zhu Qing: "The open-air market on Xinzhendi Street?"
Where is it now?
“You can buy construction waste.”
The child's face instantly switched between countless rich little expressions.
From disappointment, disdain, and unhappiness, finally—I accepted it.
"Let's use the furniture the homeowner left behind," the wealthy uncle said, scoffing. "It's better than scavenging for garbage."
Zhu Qing's educational philosophy entered Sheng Fang's mind in a strange way.
In any case, by rounding up, the minor villain has learned to be frugal and no longer squanders his wealth.
The minibus drove slowly.
Once they've gradually settled the details of buying a house and moving, they won't have to endure the bumpy journey anymore.
"Are you sleepy?" Zhu Qing asked.
"I'm not sleepy!"
The children were very excited.
The young master is about to embark on a brand new life, and just thinking about lying in an air-conditioned room surrounded by toys makes him smile so hard his throat is almost sticking out.
"Qingzai, will we be cooking for ourselves from now on?"
Zhu Qing had never considered this question before, and her brows furrowed slightly instantly.
"Do we still need to cook? Let's just make do with this."
"How can you settle for something like this! Qingzai, you've been settling for so long!"
His niece's quality of life is really not high. It will be a long way to go before he can teach the child to enjoy life.
The child had never been into the kitchen before, but already imagined how impressive it would be to wield a spatula in front of the island.
"I'm the head chef, and you're the sous chef."
"Use a small stool to elevate the rice bowl, and you'll have lobster and abalone rice!"
Zhu Qing pursed her lips: "You're eating so well?"
On the way back, the child kept talking.
That imagined scene of life is full of warmth and everyday life.
Zhu Qing listened quietly, unaware that her gaze was becoming increasingly gentle.
But gradually, the cheerful little voice became weaker and weaker.
Why did you stop talking?
Zhu Qing turned to look at him.
On the car window, a fluffy little head rested, its eyes closed, and it smacked its lips.
His long eyelashes trembled, casting shadows under his eyes and making his face look even more chubby.
The kid is really just putting on a brave face.
I was having a blast just a moment ago, and then I suddenly fell asleep.
On TV, they show covering sleeping children with blankets, but we're in the car now, and there aren't any blankets.
Zhu Qing wasn't used to taking care of people, and when she raised her hand, she didn't know what to do. Before pulling it back, she pinched his cheek.
It's surprisingly easy to squeeze.
...
The next morning, Zhu Qing handed the child over to Aunt Ping.
The little one leaned against the warm, hot lower bunk of the bunk bed, his short legs sticking up high, holding an ice cream in one hand.
Qingzai bought him an ice cream, which was simply a cooling miracle. After taking a bite, it felt like there was a built-in air conditioner on the child's face, and even breathing felt refreshing. He smiled with his eyes crinkling and kept praising his niece for being the best girl.
However, he soon discovered that Qingzai had a condition for buying him this ice cream!
"I have to work overtime tonight," Zhu Qing said.
The little girl, who had been covered in blobs, suddenly stood up.
What time will you be back?
"Not necessarily. You can go back to Banshan with Aunt Ping first."
The uncle turned the chubby little body around: "Impossible!"
The exchange terms were rejected, and Sheng Fang was unwilling to return to the hillside villa.
But at the same time, it's impossible to return the delicious ice cream to my niece.
If I buy it for him, it's his!
But when she left, the young master still stood with his back to the wall, looking dejected.
Despite his dejected state, he was afraid the ice cream in his hand would melt, so he would lick it every now and then.
Too busy.
Aunt Ping then chased after him into the corridor.
"Qingqing?" Aunt Ping called from behind, her voice soft and tentative.
Zhu Qing turned around in confusion, instinctively wanting to correct the overly intimate way she addressed him.
“I know I shouldn’t call you that,” Aunt Ping said, “but seeing how busy you’ve been these past few days reminds me of the young lady when she was young.”
Memories are like traveling through a time tunnel, piecing together the present Zhu Qing and the former young lady.
Back then, as a newborn, she would kick her tiny feet and giggle when Sheng Peirong called her "Coco." A baby only a few months old couldn't understand what that nickname meant; she only knew it was a warm call from her mother.
"We'll have to wait until your mommy wakes up to call you by that nickname." Aunt Ping smiled kindly and gently held Zhu Qing's wrist. "I'll call you Qingqing, okay?"
Zhu Qing's heart softened. Looking at Aunt Ping's expectant eyes, she really wanted to ask—
Will he really wake up?
But in the end, her words turned into silence, and she nodded gently.
"Oh right, look at my memory," Aunt Ping said, handing over an umbrella. "It looks like it's about to rain again, take an umbrella with you."
Looking down from the railing of the old police academy building, you can see the sports field.
The trainees had already begun marching, their rubber boots hitting puddles and splashing up undried rainwater.
Last night, it rained on and off all night.
The weather cleared up this morning, but given the weather these past few days, it's hard to say for sure.
It's safer to bring an umbrella.
"Be careful at work," Aunt Ping said. "On the way here, I heard the housewives on the minibus say that serial killers are inhuman!"
The young master, who had his back to them, shivered.
I was so scared by the inhuman murderer that even ice cream didn't taste as good.
...
Early in the morning, Tsang Wing-shan rushed into the police station at the last minute, just in time.
As she entered, she also picked up a newspaper and, with light steps, delivered it to Uncle Li and Mo Zhenbang's table.
Haozai crossed his arms and leaned against the partition of Zeng Yongshan's workstation: "What's making you so happy?"
Group B's little sunshine is always smiling, but today seems particularly different.
Haozai suddenly slammed his hand on the table and leaned closer gossipily: "I know, did you come with Inspector Liang?"
Zeng Yongshan rolled her eyes at him.
A long time ago, Mo Sha said at a meeting that each of them was like Sun Wukong plucking a hair and conjuring up the entire B group of mischievous monkeys, extremely difficult to deal with. But Inspector Leung was different from them; he was gentle and refreshing, unlike his other colleagues who were noisy and lacked the street smarts.
But what truly made her excited was something else.
Yesterday, Zhu Qing invited her to a trial class at the beauty academy. Having worked together for so long, this was the first time Zhu Qing had proactively invited her. Seeing her so enthusiastic, Zeng Yongshan didn't want to refuse, fearing that if she missed this opportunity, she might not have another.
The original night shift became a problem; after asking everyone in the group, only Liang Qikai readily agreed to switch shifts.
Finally, she was able to keep her appointment, and a bright smile almost bloomed on her lips.
The conference room door opened, and Zhu Qing came out carrying a stack of files.
Zeng Yongshan immediately sat down next to her and handed her a gold-embossed business card.
"My mom's business card!"
The business card displayed Zeng's mother's position and name.
She is Yi Dongmei, a lecturer at the Fiman International Beauty Academy.
"Zhu Qing, how about we grab some dinner tonight?"
"The academy is in Causeway Bay, and there's a tea restaurant nearby that serves the most authentic stir-fried beef noodles!"
Zhu Qing gripped the gold-embossed business card tightly in her hand.
If fate is working its magic, the Zeng family might be murdered tonight…
"Do you want to go?" Zeng Yongshan asked, then, worried about pressuring him, considerately added, "It's okay, if you're busy—"
"Is this Jin Kee's stir-fried beef noodles? I heard that the iced milk tea at the A-set meal is also very good."
Zeng Yongshan's eyes widened in surprise: "Really! You knew too!"
Just then, the phone in the criminal investigation team's office suddenly rang shrilly.
The phone ringing now doesn't sound like a good thing.
Everyone held their breath.
Thirty seconds later, Mo Zhenbang hung up the phone.
"Causeway Bay Fimman International Beauty Academy"
A body has been found.
...
With sirens blaring, the police car drove towards the Feman International Beauty Academy.
This was the place where Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan had arranged to audit the class that evening, but now they arrived more than half a day early.
No one spoke the rest of the way.
Everyone was in a state of turmoil, and the only sound in the carriage was the rustling of documents being flipped through.
The gatekeeper opened the gate, and the police car drove straight in.
The entrance was already surrounded by media. Some clever reporters tried to sneak in for exclusive news, but they were quickly discovered by the policewoman who had cordoned off the area and chased them away.
A group of reporters, cameras in hand, stood on tiptoe to peer inside.
"Another one died!"
"Still the Rain Night Killer, this is the third one this month!"
"The way he died was still so horrible..."
Mo Zhenbang led the team, his face grim, as they stepped into the crime scene.
This is a spacious beauty classroom. The desks are different from those in ordinary schools, arranged to leave enough space for practical lessons. Behind the podium hangs an old projection screen, its edges curled up, which is clearly inconsistent with the school's claimed "high-end positioning".
“Mr. Mo,” the officer at the scene reported, “the body was discovered by the cleaning staff this morning. This classroom has been closed for two weeks due to renovations. The cleaning lady found a stack of lesson plan papers stuffed under the door while tidying up the multimedia room next door.”
"She went inside to tidy up; the door was ajar, and she pushed it open gently."
The cleaning lady is taking a statement in the corner.
"I pushed open the door and saw someone sitting inside. It turned out to be our principal."
"He just sat there on the podium, just like he would during a regular class..."
Zhu Qing's gaze swept across the classroom.
The deceased's position was not moved; he was now "sitting" in front of the podium with his hands on the swivel chair.
Similar to the previous two cases, the eyebrows were completely removed, the lips were painted bright red, and the cheeks were painted an extremely jarring pink.
"Dr. Cheng?" Mo Zhenbang said in a deep voice.
Cheng Xinglang did not respond immediately. He leaned closer and paused the tweezers between the deceased's lips.
His breathing was steady, his gaze fixed on the eerie face.
Zeng Yongshan unconsciously grabbed Zhu Qing's sleeve and whispered, "It's giving me goosebumps."
Dr. Cheng was too close to the deceased; he could clearly see every line on his face.
Finally, he straightened up, turned around, and said, "There's a cigarette butt."
The deceased, Zheng Shihong, was 51 years old and the founder of the Feiman International Beauty Academy.
Like the victims of two other murders this month, he was strangled from behind, his face covered with an incongruous layer of makeup.
"A cigarette butt?" Xu Jiale immediately stepped forward. "Could it have been left by the murderer?"
If it was a cigarette butt left by the murderer, DNA could certainly be extracted from it, which would be a breakthrough in the case.
“The cigarette butt belonged to the deceased.” Cheng Xinglang shook his head, holding up the tweezers to show the marks at the bottom of the cigarette butt. “When the murderer picked up the cigarette butt that had just been stomped out, he used rigor mortis to pose—”
"Stuffed into the deceased's mouth?" Liang Qikai, usually mild-mannered, suddenly turned cold. "Is this a show of defiance against the police?"
The officers remained silent.
First, there was the case at the container factory a year ago, the ritual the murderer didn't have time to complete.
Then there were these successive cases.
In a breakfast stall in Sham Shui Po, Fung Yiu-man sits upright at the table with a "smile." In an abandoned tenement building in Mong Kok, Cheung Chi-keung sits on the steps with one leg bent. And now, in an abandoned classroom of a beauty academy, Cheng Sai-hung is positioned in an upright sitting posture, with a half-smoked cigarette butt between his stiff lips.
They are all "works" completed by the murderer.
"Principal Zheng is indeed a heavy smoker," the cleaning lady said. "He smokes at least a pack a day."
Whether it was that cigarette butt or the classroom door that was deliberately left ajar—
It can be concluded that this was a carefully designed provocation and challenge by the murderer.
Everyone was in an uproar. Mo Zhenbang suddenly kicked the desk and cursed.
The officers in Group B scattered to collect testimonies, and several lecturers, upon learning the news in the early morning, recalled the events with tears in their eyes.
“Principal Zheng started working in this industry a long time ago. Back then, men who learned makeup had to endure so many strange looks... But Principal Zheng didn’t give up and persevered until now, and he has made a name for himself.”
“Our academic system is very flexible. You can attend classes full-time or choose evening or weekend classes. This is also his original intention. Principal Zheng always says that dreams should not be limited.”
"Principal Zheng has been busy with the campus expansion lately; the new campus is about to open, but unexpectedly—"
The lecturers couldn't continue speaking; a heavy weight pressed on their hearts. They couldn't believe that people who were alive and well just yesterday were gone.
“It must have been Qiang who did it.” Principal Zheng’s secretary said excitedly, “When I got off work around 10 p.m. last night, I heard them arguing in Principal Zheng’s office!”
The secretary's name is Tracy, and the "A-Qiang" she mentioned is Zhan Weiqiang, the director of the college's purchasing department.
“Every student who enrolls in the course needs to prepare a set of cosmetics. They can bring their own, but most people trust our instructors and will buy them directly from the school when they enroll and pay for the course in order to achieve better makeup results.”
"A while ago, A-Qiang suggested changing his cosmetics, but Principal Zheng disagreed, so they often argued about it."
"The new price list shows that the foundation is more than 20% more expensive! Actually, what does Qiang know about brands? He must be taking kickbacks."
Zhu Qing wrote down Tracy's testimony in the notebook, underlining the words "change of supplier" with ink.
Someone nearby said, "But isn't this a serial murder case? It's true that Qiang and Principal Zheng had a grudge... Could it be that they also had a grudge against the other victims?"
Tracy was speechless for a moment, but insisted that Zhan Weiqiang was definitely not innocent: "Anyway, Qiang is definitely not a good person. I don't know what time he left last night, he was acting suspiciously. If you don't believe me, go ask the security guard."
When the security guard at the college gate was called over, he didn't even dare to peek into the classroom.
Xu Jiale nudged Zeng Yongshan's elbow and whispered, "She's shorter than you, and she gets scared like this over such a small thing. And she's a security guard? Is she just sitting in the guard booth as a decoration?"
Zeng Yongshan rolled her eyes at him from the corner: "Is this a small matter? Someone died!"
"Relax, just answer the questions," Zhu Qing said. "I know that last night Zhan Weiqiang and—"
"I don't know, I don't know anything." The security guard waved his hands rapidly in front of him, his hands shaking like a sieve. "I'm new here."
Uncle Li couldn't bear to look any longer. Frustrated, he lit a cigarette, but then, remembering Zheng Shihong's death, he stubbed it out.
"Bring Zhan Weiqiang back for questioning first," Mo Zhenbang ordered, rubbing his temples.
...
The entire beauty academy was turned upside down. After a thorough search, every statement was recorded. Everyone kept moving forward, trying to find any overlooked clues from the smallest details.
From the corridors to the classrooms, from the storage rooms to the rooftop, the police were like clockwork, leaving no detail unchecked.
Zhu Qing held the pen, her notebook filled with fragmented statements from the college's cleaning staff, security guards, maintenance workers, lecturers, and even some students. Towards the end, she wrote almost numbly, her hands never stopping, until page after page was filled before closing the notebook, turning and leaving.
Not just her, every police officer is like that.
By 2 p.m., they had come up empty-handed.
Mo Zhenbang's pager was about to explode with calls from Inspector Weng, who was bombarding him with calls demanding an explanation. It had to be one that would satisfy the media and his superiors. But in reality, they knew absolutely nothing about the killer, and were just wandering around aimlessly like headless flies.
Finally, Mo Sir ripped off the pager, threw it hard into the back seat of the police car, closed the door, and turned to leave, leaving Inspector Ong trapped inside that small pager, urging him on and on.
An empty, unused classroom is where the dead were found.
The body has now been removed, and Zhu Qing sits in the last row, gazing at the empty podium.
There used to be a carefully dressed-up corpse sitting there, but now only a human figure outlined in chalk remains.
The door was pushed open, and footsteps approached.
Zhu Qing: "Have you found anything?"
No one answered.
She clenched her fists and muttered to herself, "How many more people have to die..."
Did Madam concede first?
Zhu Qing looked up.
Dr. Cheng, holding a paper bag, sat down on the folding chair next to her.
The classroom felt empty; the echoes of every word seemed to linger in my ears.
"It's like Tetris, where each shape has its own place to land."
“A gap that isn’t perfectly sealed is a clue.”
"A sandwich," Dr. Cheng said, handing over a paper bag. "Would you like something like this?"
A light drizzle continued to fall outside the window.
Zhu Qing took the sandwich, opened the package, and took a bite.
The bread was a bit dry, so Dr. Cheng handed over a glass of iced lemon tea: "To perk you up."
Zhu Qing didn't say anything, took the drink, and forgot to thank her.
She lowered her head and continued eating.
You need to be well-fed to have the energy to work.
As the entire Major Crimes Unit B prepared to leave the beauty academy in Causeway Bay, it was already dark.
Zhu Qing stared at the notebook, turning the pages one by one.
Where is the killer? Is it in Sham Shui Po, Mong Kok, the New View Hotel, or the beauty academy?
Perhaps he is quietly lurking in some corner, watching the police get nothing, and then striking a victorious pose.
But if he did it, he would definitely leave evidence.
Zhu Qing stepped forward, found Haozai, and asked, "Is Yongshan here? I want to talk to her mother to find out some things."
"There it is."
Zeng Yongshan was supposed to be on duty tonight.
In the original storyline, her parents and older brother were brutally murdered on the day she worked the night shift.
In that tragic incident, in the cozy little apartment, blood splattered all over the floor and walls, and three corpses were neatly arranged, a horrifying sight.
Is the murderer going to target the Zeng family tonight?
However, as Zhu Qing approached, she happened to hear Zeng Yongshan clinging to her mother's arm and acting coquettishly.
"I don't care! Daddy and my older brother haven't been home all week!"
"How old are you? Still wanting to sleep with me? Aren't you ashamed?"
Zhu Qing stopped in her tracks.
Zeng Yongshan's father and elder brother are not home... The timing is wrong.
“Zhu Qing?” Zeng Yongshan suddenly turned her head and introduced her to her mother with delight, “This is the colleague I often talk about!”
The mother and daughter look alike when they smile, especially the curve of their eyes.
“Yongshan talks about you every day at home.” Yi Dongmei stepped forward. “We had arranged for you to audit the latest course tonight, but this happened.”
She shook her head helplessly: "Principal Zheng usually takes good care of us, I never expected—"
Zhu Qing opened the notebook.
She asked about Zhan Weiqiang's character. Just now, Principal Zheng's secretary, Tracy, had fiercely rebuked him, but the security guard in the gatehouse couldn't give a clear answer.
“Tracy, A-Qiang, and Principal Zheng… their relationship is complicated.” Yi Dongmei’s tone was somewhat restrained. “There are some things between the three of them that are hard to explain.”
Yi Dongmei told them that Zheng Shihong's wife had passed away five years ago, and not long after, Tracy also got divorced. But she also heard that when Zhan Weiqiang was a student in a makeup and styling course, he always asked Tracy to be his makeup practice model.
“Back then, every time Ah-Qiang finished doing Tracy's makeup, she would take a picture to remember the moment.”
“Once, when A-Qiang asked for leave, Tracy canceled her class for that day. Back then, she charged per class, and the cost of a class... there was no reason for her to turn down money.”
"Later, she stopped working as a makeup model and became Principal Zheng's secretary. I haven't heard of them having any contact since."
Zhu Qing paused, her pen poised: "Zhan Weiqiang studied makeup before?"
"He wanted to switch careers and become a lecturer, but learning makeup also requires talent. The lecturer held his hand and taught him how to draw eyeliner, but he ended up making the model look like a panda. In that course, the other students used him as a negative example to make fun of him, but Qiang didn't get angry and let everyone say what they wanted."
"However, Ah Qiang also has his strengths. Although he's not good at makeup, he... During that period, he would go to the principal's office every day after class to chat and smoke with him, and in the end, he was admitted despite not meeting the usual requirements."
Zeng Yongshan hurriedly asked, "When did that happen?"
“It’s been several years. Look, he’s now the purchasing director,” Yi Dongmei said. “I don’t remember exactly how long.”
Zhu Qing took out photos of several previous victims from the folder.
Zeng Yongshan immediately understood her intention and asked, "Mommy, have you seen these people before?"
Yi Dongmei's gaze swept over the document, which contained photos of the deceased and other evidence.
“It suddenly occurred to me that this eyebrow razor,” Yi Dongmei said, “was given to me by A-Qiang.”
Last night, when Zeng Yongshan returned home, she mentioned the eyebrow razor to her mother.
A year ago, the murderer dropped a knife at the container factory. It had a brand name printed on it, and since each eyebrow razor had a different design, she remembered that her mother had a knife of the same brand in her dressing bag.
Now, Yi Dongmei recalls this incident.
"This knife has no brand name, and nobody knows where A-Qiang got it from. Everyone says he must have taken a lot of kickbacks, buying a car and a house in just a few years... He really made his fortune thanks to Principal Zheng."
"It was because of this eyebrow razor that Principal Zheng and he had their first argument. Principal Zheng felt that this kind of tool, of dubious origin, had no quality assurance, and Ah Qiang, being stubborn, immediately pulled out a wad of banknotes..."
That day, many lecturers and students heard what Zhan Weiqiang said.
He said that since Principal Zheng didn't believe him, he would pay for the box of knives himself.
"Actually, I've used it a few times and it's surprisingly easy to use. Sometimes Principal Zheng is too stubborn and unwilling to accept new things. You see, as we get older, we should pay more attention to what young people like now. We can't always stick to the old ways... Otherwise, we'll fall behind the times."
Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan looked at each other, and finally saw a glimmer of hope.
"Take another look."
Have you met the other three victims in this case?
Have you come to see Zhan Weiqiang?
...
The weather was strange all day.
Heavy rain poured down from time to time, and then suddenly the sky cleared up.
When it's not raining, Shengfang would stand by the door with his hands in his pockets, urging Aunt Ping to go out for a walk.
Qingzai said that after finishing her work these past two days, she would send him to school. Going to school is troublesome, and there's an interview involved. Qingzai told him to look at the interview questions and practice a lot when he had time, but the little boy didn't take it to heart.
Should the kindergarten choose him? He should choose the kindergarten.
Shengfang needs to conduct on-site investigations and consider where to send herself.
And so Aunt Ping took him for a walk around the neighborhood.
"Young Master," Aunt Ping pointed to a spot not far away, "there's a Little Seagull Children's Center over there!"
They live in Wong Chuk Hang, so far from Yau Ma Tei Police Station. Even if Chu Ching wanted to take her uncle to school, she wouldn't take him here.
But the child didn't seem so clever and didn't think of this at all. He took small, quick steps and strolled to the entrance of the Little Seagull Children's Center.
He was so bored that he gripped the iron bars of the kindergarten's back gate with both little hands and pressed his face against them.
I watched it for a long time.
Children ran around in the activity area, and the cheerful nursery rhymes rang out again and again.
Shengfang shook her head.
The school uniforms are ugly, the singing is bad, and the games are incredibly childish.
It's pointless, better to do it later—
Let him take his niece with him to solve the case.
Aunt Ping looked at the young master's small figure from behind, and a pang of sadness welled up in her heart. She didn't know how to comfort him.
In the past, all of this child's classes were completed in his private study on the third floor, with a schedule tailored to his needs by his tutor. If he were to attend a regular kindergarten and attend classes with so many other children, he would likely find it difficult to adapt immediately.
Just like now, he stared intently at the park, yet still uttered words of disdain.
This child clearly longs for group life.
Otherwise, why wouldn't he be willing to leave?
Aunt Ping couldn't bear it: "Young Master..."
"Help me," Sheng Fang said, "My face is stuck."
The distance between the railings was too narrow, and the young master's face was stuck, unable to move.
Shengfang stretched her short, fair arms behind her back and handed them to Aunt Ping.
Then, in a cool, childlike voice, he said, "Pull it."
...
Zhu Qing didn't board the minibus back until 7 p.m.
Outside the window, the wind and rain were heavy, and the car radio repeatedly broadcast heavy rain warnings.
"Lamma Island ferry service is suspended until further notice."
The case had just made a slight breakthrough when it suddenly stalled again.
Since arriving at work this morning, no one in the entire beauty academy has seen Zhan Weiqiang. However, early this morning, the purchasing department received a call from him saying he needed to go to Lamma Island to discuss samples of a newly developed foundation.
Clearly, Zhan Weiqiang is now trapped on the island.
What a coincidence!
The minibus stopped at the Wong Chuk Hang stop, and a downpour hit her. Luckily, Aunt Ping had given her an umbrella before she left home that morning.
Zhu Qing traveled through wind and rain.
She inserted the key into the dormitory lock and opened the door. The heavy rain washed away the heat from the "steamer," and the room was quiet; the fragrant flowers were gone.
Zhu Qing thought that the young master of the Sheng family had been coaxed back to the villa on the hillside by Aunt Ping, but when she sat down at the desk, she saw that he had left a small note on the desk.
The note was written by Aunt Ping, and the two of them were watching TV in the dormitory supervisor's room.
What a child who knows how to enjoy life.
A few minutes later, Zhu Qing stood at the dormitory supervisor's door to pick up her child and take him home.
She gently knocked on the door—
When the dormitory supervisor came to open the door, she pushed up her reading glasses, which had slipped down to the middle of her nose, and was still holding a ball of yarn that she hadn't finished unraveling.
The evening news was playing on the television inside the room.
During this period, the television news has been constantly broadcasting this horrific murder case.
"Recent news indicates that the series of murders on rainy nights has escalated once again."
"Police would like to remind all citizens to be vigilant when going out at night."
"According to criminal psychology experts, the perpetrator primarily targeted men, and we recommend—"
The entire city was shrouded in a low-pressure atmosphere, and people were filled with anxiety. It wasn't until the afternoon that Zhu Qing heard from her colleagues that taxi drivers were no longer willing to drive the night shift, and the tea restaurants on the street corners were closing early.
But Zhu Qing didn't expect that this fear would affect the young master of the Sheng family.
At this moment, Shengfang was sitting in front of the television.
The light from the screen illuminated the child's tender face. His back was ramrod straight, and his two chubby little hands were neatly placed on his knees.
“Aunt Ping,” Sheng Fang said solemnly, “I don’t want to go out until my niece catches the murderer.”
Fangfang's uncle sighed heavily, his mind preoccupied.
That's terrifying, and he's a man too.
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