Ou Dajun, who had died in the brawl, had the worst family circumstances. His wife was mentally ill, and while he toiled to make a living, everything at home was left to his daughter, Ou Hong, to handle. With his death, his mad wife became even more deranged, wailing like a ghost throughout the town, impossible for anyone to restrain.

At some point, her cries were no longer heard in town, and Ou Hong also disappeared. The common belief at the time was that the mother and daughter could no longer go on living and had gone somewhere to commit suicide.

“That child Ou Hong was so pitiful. She was just a few years old and already had to buy groceries and cook by herself. That crazy mother of hers didn’t care about anything. The kids around here were all left to run wild back then, playing outside in groups, but I never saw Ou Hong join them. She always had endless chores to do. And if she ever had a moment to rest, her mad mother would start screaming again. The other kids were afraid of her mother, so they avoided playing with her too. She never wore any nice clothes, always messy and dirty. I don’t think I ever saw her face clearly even once. Such misfortune!”

“If you ask me, without that crazy mother of hers, she could’ve lived a decent life. The Ou family lived right next to the Long family, and didn’t the Longs only have two little girls left? Look how well they’ve turned out. Sigh—”

Ling Lie returned the finished knitted scarf to the elder sister, who beamed with joy. “You’re really good at this!”

Ling Lie shoved his hands into his coat pockets and strolled leisurely along the old street. The setting sun fell behind him, but golden light rose up from the ground instead, almost drowning him in a sea of light.

Night fell once more. In the corners of the city, some stared blankly into their dressing mirrors; some crouched beneath windows, suddenly jolted up by falling cigarette ash burning them; some posted “deep analyses” of Wan Binlai’s death, snatching up another wave of online attention.

Xi Wan’s high heels clicked sharply down the Major Crimes Unit hallway as she placed a comparison report on Ji Chenjiao’s desk. He Lin and a man named Jiang Meng were found to have a genetic relationship.

And before this, Shen Qi had already discovered that Jiang Meng was none other than the mysterious Jiang Binzhi Meng who had been at Maple Villa during the incident.

“Try using the instep of your right foot to spin the ball, like this…” Jiang Meng ran up, flicked, and the ball drew a perfect arc into the goal net.

“Coach Jiang, you’re amazing!” The boys cheered excitedly.

Jiang Meng brushed his sweat-soaked hair aside and smiled at them. “Practice hard and you’ll all be able to do it too. Only a month left—help Coach Jiang win the Xiarong championship then!”

“Yes! We will!”

Jiang Meng returned to the bench and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat. It was still early morning; the first elementary school class had not yet begun. The field had been divided into seven or eight zones, with boys dreaming of football stardom practicing in each. The city’s elementary school football championship was coming up in July, and many schools had temporarily hired coaches for training. His coaching certificate was registered under the Wanbin Laihe Sports & Fitness Studio, and last month, this elementary school had hired him.

After finishing his water, Jiang Meng was about to teach the kids another move when his expression suddenly changed. Outside the wire fence, two detectives he had seen at Maple Villa were walking his way.

Jiang Meng swallowed hard, shifted his gaze, and tried his best to appear calm.

Ji Chenjiao stepped inside the wire fence and flashed his badge. “When does practice end?”

Jiang Meng glanced at the kids. “What is it this time?”

Before Ji Chenjiao could answer, a football flew swiftly toward him. He nimbly tilted his body to the side; the ball whooshed past his ear and smacked into the wire fence with a loud “thud.”

A boy glared fiercely and shouted, “What do you want with Coach Jiang?”

Startled by the flying ball, Jiang Meng hurried over. “Stop that! He’s a police officer!”

“So what? Just because he’s a cop he can bully you? Coach Jiang, you look so nervous standing with them.”

Jiang Meng choked.

In these few minutes, Ji Chenjiao had already seen that Jiang Meng was a very well-liked coach. The kids probably knew they shouldn’t attack the police, but they cared more about protecting Jiang Meng.

It was nearly eight o’clock; morning practice was about to end. Jiang Meng explained to the kids that the police hadn’t bullied him, then sent them out of the fence and chased them back to class.

After the kids left, the scattered balls and obstacle cones were as usual left for Jiang Meng to gather. Ji casually flicked a ball with his foot; it spun lightly and landed straight into the storage basket.

Jiang Meng froze for a moment. “You play too?”

“I was on the high school team.” Ji Chenjiao helped him tidy up.

Jiang Meng said, “Me too. I love football.”

After the field was cleaned up, Ji finally asked, “He Lin is your sister?”

The storage basket fell from Jiang Meng’s hands with a thud. His mouth opened slightly in shock, a drop of sweat slipping from the corner of his eye. “What?”

“Relax, I just want to verify something,” Ji Chenjiao said. “Your parents once abandoned a baby girl at the Lily Fragrance Welfare Home. The orphanage named her Xia Xiaoxiao. Later she was adopted and renamed He Lin. Three years ago, she committed suicide in despair after Kang Wanbin took away her studio.”

Jiang Meng’s face turned pale. He picked up the basket again and shoved past Ji, saying, “I don’t know any He Lin. I don’t have a sister. My parents only have me.”

He strode toward the equipment room. Ji followed. “Your family is from Xunlin City. You studied at Xunlin Sports College. Why come all the way to Xiarong City for a job?”

Jiang Meng replied, “Is wanting to live independently a crime?”

“But I found out that after high school exams, you visited Xiarong multiple times, wandering around the old site of Lily Fragrance  Welfare Home, asking about a ‘hearing-impaired girl.'”

Jiang Meng’s shoulders stiffened. Slowly he turned, eyes filled with shock and disbelief. “You guys…”

Ji Chenjiao said, “You still want to claim you don’t know He Lin?”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Meng kicked aside a shelf blocking the equipment room, sat down on a bench, and muttered, “I knew. So what? Officer, when you learn you actually have an older sister abandoned by your parents, wouldn’t you be curious how she turned out? I was eighteen then—was it so strange I wanted to find her?”

Three years ago, Jiang Meng had been admitted to university as a sports major. His parents were overjoyed and hosted a banquet. Late at night, after the guests had all left, Jiang Meng saw his drunken father clasping his hands together, mumbling thanks to “Nannan” for blessing him.

Nannan? Who was Nannan? Jiang Meng remembered that as a child, he had lived in Xiarong City, until his parents claimed business was bad and moved to Xunlin City. They had always said it was just the three of them—so who was Nannan?

Under his questioning, his drunken father confessed they had once abandoned a hearing-impaired baby girl.

He was shocked, suddenly understanding why they moved. But he didn’t resent his parents much—because if his sister had lived, he wouldn’t have been born.

His curiosity about this unseen sister only grew. At first, he merely wanted to know if she was alive or dead. Later, he learned she had been adopted, but the old director at the welfare home refused to say by whom.

“You ask why I work in Xiarong? Because I was curious about my sister.” Jiang Meng looked awkwardly at Ji. “You said she died… because of Kang Wanbin? Her name was He Lin?”

Ji Chenjiao stared down at Jiang Meng from above. The young man had exposed too many flaws already. When first hearing He Lin’s name, he had overreacted. When told she died because of Kang Wanbin, he hadn’t asked why—only now did he suddenly ask this question.

Jiang Meng definitely knew Xia Xiaoxiao was He Lin, and he knew how she died. His working under Kang Wanbin was no coincidence. But Ji Chenjiao was in no hurry to get the truth from him yet. Now that suspicion was confirmed, he could apply for the next level of search warrants to gather more evidence.

Meanwhile, Ling Lie had stayed two nights in an inn on the old street of Nanfeng District. There was a bus to the city center, but after waiting at the station for a few minutes, he turned and flagged down a motor tricycle.

The driver poked his head out. “Here for sightseeing? Where to?”

Ling Lie said, “Maple Breeze Villa.”

The driver frowned. “You can’t go there. Someone died there!”

Ling Lie had already jumped onto the back seat, grinning. “Let’s go, buddy. I’ll pay double.”

Only then did the driver reluctantly start the engine, muttering, “What’s there to see in that place—”

Maple Breeze Villa had a first gate halfway up the mountain, and it was still a kilometer from there to the livable areas. Normally that gate was bustling, but now the police hadn’t closed the place, yet no guests dared come, so it felt deserted.

No matter what Ling Lie said, the driver refused to go further and left him behind. Ling Lie smiled and sighed, stretching his limbs. No need to walk—he could run.

Back when he trained in the Special Operations Team, running five or ten kilometers burdened through the mountains was daily routine. He’d had no foundation then and was whipped into shape like a dog by Xiao Yu’an. He had once wished to skin him alive.

But without Xiao Yu’an, he wouldn’t be standing in the sunlight like this now.

This mere kilometer was nothing.

Liang Wenxian had been in the mountains for two days already. The search had not progressed yet. When he saw Ling Lie, his first thought was that Ji Chenjiao had also come.

Ling Lie said, “I can act on my own too.”

Liang Wenxian smiled. “Alright. Do you have any clues to tell me?”

Ling Lie shook his head. “I came to help you search the mountain.”

Back at headquarters, Ji Chenjiao sent two officers to Xunlin City to question Jiang Meng’s parents. Then he and Xi Wan obtained a warrant for a search of Jiang Meng’s rented apartment.

Jiang Meng lived alone, and his apartment was a bit messy. The secrets he tried so hard to guard were laid bare in this small one-bedroom unit—on his desk was a photo frame holding a picture of He Lin, and his shelves were filled with character standees and colored sketches from the Youheju Studio games.

Xi Wan turned on his computer. Installed on it were games produced by Youheju Studio, and in one of the folders were reports on He Lin’s death from the industry as well as eulogies written by various professionals. His computer account was synced with his phone, revealing that before the banquet, he had searched multiple times for ways to kill someone.

In the drawer beside his bed, they also found a phone that couldn’t be turned on. Xi Wan sealed all the electronic devices and took them back for Shen Qi to investigate further.

At the same time, Jiang Meng was brought to the Major Crimes Unit with his movements temporarily restricted.

The team members who went to Xunlin City soon found Jiang Meng’s parents. They still ran a clothing business in their small hometown, and many elderly customers preferred shopping at their store.

When they saw the police, the couple were so frightened that they could hardly speak. Upon learning that the police had come because of Jiang Meng, his mother burst into tears while his father shouted angrily, “We disowned that son of ours long ago!”

When asked about the cause of their family conflict, the couple were evasive. Jiang Meng’s mother tried to speak several times but was silenced by her husband’s sharp glance. Jiang Meng’s father avoided the heart of the matter and didn’t mention the fact that they had abandoned their biological daughter, but he couldn’t fully avoid the subject since Jiang Meng’s departure was tied to it. He vaguely explained that Jiang Meng had somehow learned they once had a daughter, but she was given away as a child because they couldn’t afford to raise her. Jiang Meng resented them for this and insisted on finding the sister who, as far as they knew, didn’t even exist anymore. He couldn’t find her and gradually became mentally unstable, cutting all ties with the family.

In the interrogation room, Ji Chenjiao showed Jiang Meng the video of his parents’ reaction. Jiang Meng clenched his fists several times. “They dare say such things? They’re even fit to be parents?”

“Looks like there’s still a lot you want to confess.”

Ever since he found out that the police had discovered He Lin’s photo at his home, Jiang Meng’s attitude had shifted—he no longer firmly denied knowing He Lin.

“They’re just afraid to bear the guilt of abandoning a child, so they’re not telling you the truth.” Jiang Meng straightened his back, deliberately trying to show that he was more responsible than his parents. “Yes, I did completely sever ties with them. Because I told them I would find my sister and return to her everything she’d lost—but they said I was crazy, that she was already dead. I didn’t believe them. Later, I found out she’d been adopted. Then they said since she was living well, I shouldn’t disturb her.”

“I’m ashamed to have such parents. They abandoned her because of her hearing disability and now they’re worried she might still be a burden. I couldn’t breathe in that kind of home, so I left.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Last time you said you didn’t know He Lin was your sister, but clearly you knew all along. How did you figure out her identity?”

Jiang Meng gave a bitter laugh. “By rights, I should never have found her—all those files and records were sealed from me. But my sister had a trait—she was hearing impaired. I went around to all the hearing aid stores asking about her, but I didn’t even know her name. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I searched for two years without any luck. If not for gaming, I would’ve missed her entirely.”

At this point, Jiang Meng’s eyes shimmered with tears. He wiped them away roughly. “Maybe it was fate. I happened to play a game produced by Youheju Studio. I loved the game and looked into the studio—and there was my sister’s picture.”

“Officer, do you believe in the feeling of blood ties? The moment I saw her photo, my heart pounded. Then I read the team profile—it said she was hearing impaired—and suddenly everything made sense.”

“Of course, lots of people have hearing impairments. She might not have been my sister. So I checked her age and thought she probably was.”

“That year, she was quite famous in the industry and about to work with Kang Wanbin. Her career was on the rise. I read every post she ever made—she mentioned she was adopted and deeply grateful to her foster parents.”

“From that moment on, I believed she was my sister.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “You only believed?” After all, Jiang Meng had many photos of He Lin but not a single photo together. Normally, siblings who reunite would take at least one picture together.

“She came to Xunlin City with her studio for an event. I volunteered there and managed to get a strand of her hair. I took it to a grey-area testing agency. She… she was my sister.” Jiang Meng’s shoulders trembled; even as he covered his face, Ji Chenjiao could feel his deep regret.

“If only I had spoken to her then… I had the chance. But I kept thinking, no rush—we’d have plenty of time. I wanted solid proof before letting her know about me.”

“When the results came, I was in closed training up north. I couldn’t hold back anymore and messaged her, sent the test result, and told her—‘Sister, I’m your brother. I finally found you.’”

“I was nervous, afraid she’d reject me. But… she was the best sister in the world. She called me. Her voice choked a little, but I could tell she was thrilled. Because of her hearing loss, her pronunciation wasn’t like normal people’s—maybe others would find it odd—but I understood every word.”

“She called me ‘little brother’ and said she was happy the family remembered her, that she was living a good life and I didn’t have to feel guilty. We messaged often, planned to meet officially in Xiarong City after my tournament ended. But…”

Ji Chenjiao could guess what happened next. Youheju was destroyed by Kang Wanbin. He Lin couldn’t bear the blow and took her own life.

“It’s my fault. She never talked about work with me, and I didn’t realize what she was going through. If I had comforted her—if we’d grown up together—maybe I’d have understood her better…”

Guilt, regret, pain—all these years they had piled up, turning into resentment, into hatred. That’s why Jiang Meng loathed the parents who separated him from his sister, and hated Kang Wanbin even more, the man who’d indirectly killed her.

Jiang Meng joined Wanbin Laihe under the alias Jiang Binzhi Meng. With his outstanding looks, he became one of Kang Wanbin’s specially promoted athletic-style male idols.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “You worked for Kang Wanbin to get revenge for your sister?”

Jiang Meng lowered his head and kept that posture for a long time, then suddenly looked up. “Forget it—you’ve found out this much. No point hiding. Yes, I got close to Kang Wanbin for revenge. And I succeeded!”

Jiang Meng’s emotions spiked; his eyes were wide and fierce, teeth gritted. “I killed him. I pushed him into the lake! Scum like him deserves to rot at the bottom with dead fish and shrimp!”

In the forensics lab, Xi Wan was comparing Jiang Meng’s footprints with the disturbed prints found at the lake. The prints labeled A were badly damaged and could not conclusively match Jiang Meng’s, but their general size was consistent.

Meanwhile, Shen Qi recovered data from the phone found in Jiang Meng’s nightstand—the very phone he’d used to contact He Lin. Their chats confirmed his story.

Ji Chenjiao stared into Jiang Meng’s eyes. “Who was your accomplice?”

Jiang Meng calmly replied, “No one. Did you arrest Yao Jue? Let him go. I’m the real killer.”

Most suspects they dealt with in the Major Crimes Unit were hardened criminals who’d deny everything even when the evidence was overwhelming. But this case was strange—Kang Wanbin, despite being guilty of many crimes himself, was the victim, and the two main suspects, Yao Jue and Jiang Meng, had both confessed after only brief resistance.

They both had motive and no alibi—but crucially, there was still no solid evidence tying either of them to the murder scene. Especially Jiang Meng.

Aside from Kang Wanbin’s footprints, there were two other sets labeled A and B by the fish farm lake. Set B was confirmed to be Yao Jue’s, making him a prime suspect. But the discarded sandals Yao Jue left behind bore no trace of blood, nor did he throw away any clothing—which didn’t add up.

As for Jiang Meng—the damaged Set A prints couldn’t prove he’d been there. He could have denied ever being at the scene. Yet before the police found stronger proof, he not only confessed but cleared Yao Jue of involvement.

A confession made too quickly, too easily—Ji Chenjiao saw this as suspicious. Was Yao Jue protecting whoever left Footprint A? Or was Jiang Meng Footprint A himself, and they had killed Kang Wanbin together, each trying to shield the other?

“Shen Qi, did Yao Jue and Jiang Meng ever message each other?” Ji Chenjiao asked.

Shen Qi frowned deeply. The screen before him showed streams of code; Yao and Jiang’s phones, tablets, and other devices were laid out on the desk. “Strange—they never called or texted each other. They don’t even have each other’s numbers saved. Like total strangers.”

Ji Chenjiao thought of the previous case, where Chen He used corporate software to relay orders to Li Aijie and others. “What about other apps?”

Shen Qi had learned from that. “Brother, I checked everything—even restored deleted data. They really never contacted each other.”

Ji Chenjiao took a step back, his gaze dark and thoughtful.

Both of these men—Jiang Meng and Yao Jue—harbored deep hatred toward Kang Wanbin. Both were employees of Wanbin Laihe, giving them plenty of opportunities to know each other. Yao Jue’s conflict with Kang Wanbin was out in the open, while Jiang Meng’s grudge was hidden in his heart. It was very likely that Jiang Meng had deliberately approached Yao Jue, and once they became familiar, they planned their revenge together.

They must have understood the importance of covering their tracks, so they would never appear too close in public. But such a collaboration required careful planning—they had to have had many private contacts.

Yet so far, the Major Crimes Unit had found no proof that they ever communicated. They appeared more like ordinary coworkers—or not even that—just two people who happened to know each other’s names because they worked at the same company.

This needed further investigation. If no evidence of private contact surfaced, then no matter how much they insisted they acted alone, the case couldn’t be hastily closed. The Major Crimes Unit had always sought the complete truth—not just confessions from suspects, but also a logical and complete chain of events. After all, how could two complete strangers cooperate to commit murder without any communication?

“Chief, come here for a moment.”

Xi Wan waved to Ji Chenjiao from the office doorway. Ji quickly jotted a few lines of thoughts into his notebook before following her to the trace evidence room.

“Remember the set of footprints I collected outside Kang Wanbin’s window? Someone entered his room through the window but seemed to have left without doing anything,” Xi Wan said while tapping on her keyboard. The screen displayed two sets of footprint comparisons. “That person was wearing the standard villa-issued shoes, so at the time, screening was hard. Just now I compared them with Jiang Meng’s athletic shoes—size, weight distribution, almost identical.”

Ji Chenjiao frowned slightly. “So Jiang Meng might have climbed into Kang Wanbin’s room? He went to see Kang Wanbin but did nothing?”

Author’s Note:

Ling Lie: When I was little, Xiao Yu’an trained me like a dog.

Ming Shu: So you’re Ling Doggo, hahaha!

Ling Lie quietly leaves: I’m staying far away from this annoying couple.