Chapter 150: Some doubts, but not many.
Wang Zhiqiang didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slowly walked to the window, opened it a crack, and glanced downstairs. Su Yingxue was already far away, but that familiar figure still lingered in his mind. He withdrew his gaze, turned around, and spoke in a low, calm tone:
"She took the initiative to ask about the trash today and even offered to take it with her—this is no coincidence. Also, she has been cooking on time for several days in a row, always saying 'I cooked too much,' and she always 'just happens' to bring some of our favorite foods. These are all too coincidental, too unnatural."
Xiao Wang choked on the beef, quickly gulped down some soup, and muttered, "But she's just a cook. Maybe she's a nice person, skillful, and just trying to earn some extra money on the way."
"A kind person? Skilled with her hands?" Wang Zhiqiang sneered. "At this critical juncture, being a 'kind person' and being 'skilled with her hands' is often the most dangerous cover. If she were really just a cook, why would she show up at this particular time? Why does she know so much about the tastes of us 'diners'?"
He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on the trash can that Su Yingxue had just emptied, his eyes becoming deep.
"I've checked the trash, and I haven't found anything unusual yet." Xiao Wang scratched his head, his tone relaxed. "It's just some takeout boxes, snack bags, and a few tissues. Nothing suspicious."
“Just because it’s not there now doesn’t mean it won’t be in the future.” Wang Zhiqiang emphasized, “She took the initiative to bring up the trash today and even asked about the trash in the master bedroom—which means she’s not only observing what we eat, but also paying attention to what we throw away, where we throw it away, and who throws it away. Most people wouldn’t even notice these kinds of details, but she did.”
Xiao Sui also stopped smiling and nodded: "Brother Wang, are you saying that she might be collecting information about our daily habits, or even... looking for clues?"
Wang Zhiqiang didn't answer directly. Instead, he slowly walked back to the table, casually fiddling with the clutter, and said in a low voice, "From today onwards, no matter who it is—the food delivery person, the garbage collector, the repairman—everyone must report in first. Especially this Sister Su; when she comes again, no one is allowed to let their guard down. Xiao Wang, you're in charge of keeping a close eye on her every move, seeing who she contacts and whether she does anything unusual. Xiao Sui, you're in charge of checking every meal she brings and every bag of garbage she takes away, making sure nothing goes wrong."
"Yes, Brother Wang!" Xiao Wang and Xiao Sui exchanged a glance and replied in unison, their relaxed expressions gone, replaced by a hint of seriousness.
Wang Zhiqiang sat back in his chair, rubbed his temples, and muttered to himself, "Who exactly is she? Someone from the police? Or an informant sent by them? Or... just a coincidence?"
He raised his head, his eyes revealing a complex mix of coldness and caution: "In any case, caution is paramount. We cannot alert them now, but we also cannot sit idly by and wait to be killed. From today onwards, increase vigilance, especially at night, with shifts on duty, and no mistakes are allowed."
Downstairs, Su Yingxue had already thrown the trash bag into a distant garbage heap and was walking slowly down the street, pretending to be nonchalant. In her hand, she secretly clutched a small recording pen. She had tried to get as close as possible to catch snippets of the conversation in the villa.
"The situation is tense... Keep a close eye on things... Watch out for the police..." She repeated the keywords she heard in a low voice, gradually forming a judgment in her mind.
She glanced up at the tightly closed windows of the small villa, a faint smile playing on her lips: "It seems there really is a story behind this. I'll remember it."
She glanced at her watch, estimating the time, then turned and walked towards the parking lot. Today's trip had been quite fruitful, but the real competition had only just begun.
Back to the barbecue restaurant
Su Yingxue searched through the bag she had switched—it looked no different from the other crumpled pieces of waste paper on the surface, but the lining contained "special garbage" that she had brought from Wang Zhiqiang's residence.
"Found it." She patted off non-existent dust from the brown paper bag, her heart skipping a beat when her fingertips touched a few stuck-together scraps of paper. These must have been carelessly thrown away by Xiao Wang or Xiao Sui; the edges were jagged, as if someone had torn them forcefully.
Back in her temporary apartment, she emptied the evidence bag onto the desk. Scraps of paper were scattered all over the floor, the largest no bigger than a palm, the smallest only the size of a fingernail. Su Yingxue put on rubber gloves and picked up each piece one by one, examining them against the light—most were scraps of takeout bills or discarded flyers from the print shop, until a piece of light blue paper caught her eye.
"This is... an A4 sheet of paper?" She picked up the jagged-edged fragment, with faint pencil marks visible on it. She found three or four more pieces and pieced them together, discovering that they originally belonged to the same sheet of paper: the upper left corner had remnants of a torn company logo, and the middle part was covered with messy pencil lines, as if someone had drawn and erased them in a hurry.
"Useless scraps of paper, huh?" she muttered to herself, just as she was about to put the fragments into the evidence bag, her phone suddenly vibrated. Lin Xiaoman's message popped up: "I've arrived, open the door."
Ten minutes later, Lin Xiaoman pushed open the door and entered, carrying two cups of milk tea. This young woman, who had just graduated from police academy, had short, neat hair and was currently leaning on the table, her nose almost touching the scraps of paper: "Sister Su, where did you dig up this treasure?"
“The garbage dump at Wang Zhiqiang’s place.” Su Yingxue handed her a cup of milk tea. “At first, I also thought it was worthless, but since you’re here…” She spread out her palms, showing the half-assembled fragments.
Lin Xiaoman didn't take the milk tea. Instead, she took out a transparent evidence bag and a pencil from her backpack. She put on finger cots and carefully arranged the shredded paper in order on the white paper, rotating each piece of paper like playing with a jigsaw puzzle: "Look at the rough edge of this piece. It was torn with the left hand. Most people use their right hand, but Wang Zhiqiang's dominant hand may be his left hand."
Su Yingxue raised an eyebrow: "How did you know?"
“We learned that in police academy practical classes,” Lin Xiaoman said without looking up. “Besides, the pencil marks on this piece of paper show repeated erasures, indicating that the original content was deliberately erased. Let’s try to restore it.” She gently rubbed the blank areas of the paper with the side of a pencil, and light gray pencil marks gradually appeared. “Look, there are pencil lines here… looks like an address?”
As more fragments were pieced together, a blurry outline gradually emerged: the upper half was mostly torn apart, with only the three characters "Shangchuan Road" clearly discernible; the numbers in the lower half were intermittent, with "2" followed by a blurry half of a number, like "7" or "9", and beyond that, there were traces of it being completely torn off.
“Shangchuan Road 2…” Su Yingxue frowned. “This area is too big. Shangchuan Road is in the old city area. There are more than a dozen buildings around No. 2 alone.”
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