Liu Yixiang’s face still bore traces of unwashed blood. Caught off guard by the workers at the construction site and the woven sack they were dragging, his eyes shifted from evasive fear to shock and disbelief.

Two groups, each having just committed irreversible wrongs, understood they were kindred spirits with only a few exchanged glances.

Li Binbin, terrified, broke into tears, his trembling hand pointing at Liu Yixiang. “You… you…”

Liu Yixiang stared at the sack. “What’s in there…?”

Gan Pengfei seized the initiative. “What’s on your face? Blood?”

Blood streaked Liu Yixiang’s face, and he carried a bag, clearly fleeing. As Gan Pengfei’s group closed in, he backed away warily. Gan Pengfei pulled a folding knife. “You killed someone?”

The air grew so tense it seemed to still. Liu Yixiang glared coldly at the advancing workers. “What’s in the sack?”

The alcohol fueling Gan Pengfei emboldened him. Having already killed Huang Xuntong, now caught burying the body by Liu Yixiang, he didn’t mind sending Liu Yixiang to join his “good brother” below.

But Liu Yixiang’s bloodshot, frenzied eyes sparked a flicker of fear in Gan Pengfei. This was a man unhinged, nothing like the Liu Yixiang he’d known.

As a thug himself, Gan Pengfei knew better than to provoke someone this far gone.

Li Binbin, legs shaking, whimpered, “Brother Pengfei, what do we do? Someone might come!”

Gan Pengfei kicked the sack. “Wanna know who? Look yourself.”

The sound of tearing fabric grated in the oppressive night. Liu Yixiang had suspected it was Huang Xuntong before seeing him—the only one missing from this crew, his good brother.

Liu Yixiang stood, his expression numb. His gaze swept each face, his voice flat and unfamiliar. “Why?”

Gan Pengfei couldn’t let Liu Yixiang sense his unease. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I killed him, and I can kill you! Blame yourself for showing up!”

Li Binbin sobbed, “Brother Pengfei, let’s call the cops. This is huge!”

Gan Pengfei and Liu Yixiang snapped in unison, “Call the cops?”

In that instant, they understood each other’s thoughts. Call the police? Impossible. Whoever brought cops now would end up like Huang Xuntong.

“You all ganged up to kill Huang Xuntong?” Liu Yixiang’s voice dripped with icy hatred, a chill that haunted Li Binbin fifteen years later. “I killed Wang’s whole family—alone. I’m done for. One more won’t matter.”

Gan Pengfei’s fear showed. “You…”

Liu Yixiang lunged for the knife, but Gan Pengfei reacted fast, kicking him down. Tang Xiaofei and Kuang Feng piled on, pinning him. Still, they were at a loss.

Others could pass by any moment. Kill Liu Yixiang and bury him too? Too risky.

Liu Yixiang struggled fiercely but couldn’t stand. He’d killed Wang Shun’s family in their sleep with a hammer, but now, against a group of living men, they could crush him like an ant.

Li Binbin tugged Gan Pengfei’s sleeve. “Brother Pengfei, let’s go!”

Gan Pengfei hissed, “Go? How?”

“I can help you live like normal people if you do as I say.”

A hoarse, aged voice emerged from the shadows. Everyone turned warily, seeing a gray-haired man step out with a kindly smile.

Liu Yixiang recognized him first. “You?”

Gan Pengfei did too—Ji Ke, the tile merchant.

“Old man, tired of living?” Gan Pengfei spun the knife, grabbing Ji Ke’s collar. “I killed one by mistake, and now you’re all lining up? Perfect!”

Ji Ke remained calm. “You didn’t mean to kill Huang Xuntong, right? Isn’t it unfair to go to jail for that?”

Gan Pengfei blinked, caught off guard. “What’s your angle?”

Ji Ke turned to Liu Yixiang. “Xiao Liu, I know your family’s story. Your uncle stole your parents’ inheritance, kept you from school, worked you like a mule. They ruined your life, lived comfortably, and you just did to them what they did to you. Is it fair you pay with your life?”

Liu Yixiang sat up, silent.

Gan Pengfei snapped, “What are you getting at?”

“Let you live on as normal people—better, even.” Ji Ke approached Huang Xuntong’s “body,” murmuring a prayer. “Now, take him to Wang’s place. Xiao Liu, set a fire to cremate Xiao Huang and your uncle’s family.”

Liu Yixiang gaped. “What?”

“Fire erases everything. Tomorrow, police will think you killed Wang’s family, then killed yourself in guilt. Case closed.” Ji Ke faced Gan Pengfei. “Let Xiao Liu join you. From now on, he’s Huang Xuntong. No body, no murder—you’re not criminals.”

The group fell silent, grappling with Ji Ke’s plan.

Ji Ke pressed, “You don’t have much time. Got a better idea?”

Gan Pengfei steeled himself. “What are you waiting for? Move!”

Liu Yixiang blocked the sack. “Let me see him again.”

“Thank your good brother!” Gan Pengfei sneered. “He dies, you live!”

Liu Yixiang shot him a dark look, then hoisted the sack. “I’ll do it.”

The group split tasks clearly, with lookouts front and back. Liu Yixiang and Gan Pengfei carried the woven sack into Wang’s house. A quarter-hour later, sparks flickered inside, and the fugitives fled into the deep night under firelight.

They didn’t leave Luchang County immediately. Under Ji Ke’s guidance, they mingled with locals to check the fire scene, joined other workers to demand wages, and answered police questions smoothly.

Only after the tragedy was pinned on Liu Yixiang’s “guilty arson” did they gradually leave Luchang County.

Carrying the weight of lives taken yet escaping punishment, they revered Ji Ke as a savior. Gan Pengfei asked what Ji Ke wanted from them. His reply was unexpected: “Follow me to Xiarong City. I’ll find you a place to settle. From now on, forget your past sins, reform, and live earnestly. One more thing—in Xiarong, don’t act close to me. It’s for our mutual protection.”

Thus, they moved to Xieyang Road, initially cautious, treading on eggshells. Realizing they could thrive through honest work, their respect for Ji Ke grew.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “You didn’t know Huang Xuntong was alive back then?”

Li Binbin: “I didn’t dare look closely, and I didn’t hit him—Gan Pengfei did! Later, police said Liu Yixiang burned to death. That’s when I realized Huang Xuntong was still alive.”

“What charm did Ji Ke have to make you all obey him?” Ji Chenjiao pressed. “You really followed his word, never breaking the law again? You all carried blood on your hands, but he didn’t. Weren’t you afraid he’d turn you in?”

Li Binbin struggled for words. “I don’t know how to explain, but I trusted him. Without him, I’d be in prison. The others probably felt the same.”

“Then why move away? Kuang Feng and Cao Kexiong even left Xiarong.”

“Because I never forgot that incident! No matter how well life went, I kept thinking of Huang Xuntong! The longer I stayed, the more Xieyang Road suffocated me! And somehow, Ji Ke told us to act like strangers, but he was always watching us!”

Li Binbin’s confession aligned with Ji Ke’s diary. In Luchang County, Ji Chenjiao had theorized how the two groups concocted the plan to swap Huang Xuntong for Liu Yixiang. The only difference from reality was Ji Ke. He didn’t just observe—he sheltered these devils, smugly “reforming” them. He was no bystander; he was an accomplice!

“When you heard Tang Xiaofei was killed and Gan Pengfei vanished, you hesitated. What were you thinking?”

“I—I thought Gan Pengfei wanted to kill me too! He killed Huang Xuntong. If Tang Xiaofei, Cao Kexiong, and I pointed fingers at him, he’d go to jail! So he wanted us gone!”

Ji Chenjiao: “But Gan Pengfei’s dead. First Liu Yixiang, then Tang Xiaofei, now Gan Pengfei. Excluding Zhu Ming and Ji Ke, who died earlier, three of your group are gone. Who killed them?”

Li Binbin trembled. “I can’t imagine who. It’s just us—no one would avenge Huang Xuntong!”

Ji Chenjiao tapped the copied page marked “X.” “Ji Ke once brought a woman to Xieyang Road, with a young child. Any memory of her?”

“No. After I noticed him watching me, I avoided him. He… helped others too?”

Ji Chenjiao left the interrogation room, handing the rest to colleagues. The fifteen-year-old case was nearly clear. Once Cao Kexiong arrived, his statement would corroborate.

The “X” in Ji Ke’s notebook was taking shape in Ji Chenjiao’s mind.

“Xi Wan, take a team back to Xieyang Road. Ask if, over a decade ago, a woman with a young child rented there,” Ji Chenjiao said. “She’s from Pinglan County, likely with a Pinglan accent. She avoided men, worked tirelessly to support her family alone. Kind neighbors, seeing her struggle, tried matchmaking, but she refused. She didn’t stay long on Xieyang Road—likely moved to Jiayu Road.”

Xi Wan: “Jiayu Road? So she knew the area well?”

“Yes. I suspect she moved for her child’s schooling. Jiayu Road has jobs nearby—catering, school staff. She’s likely a school worker.”

Xi Wan set off.

Ji Chenjiao leaned against a desk, musing. If Gan Pengfei killed Tang Xiaofei, and X killed Gan Pengfei, then Liu Yixiang’s murder was the key unlocking a cascade of crimes, spurring Gan Pengfei and X into action.

Cao Kexiong arrived at the bureau, initially panicked, denying involvement in Huang Xuntong’s assault fifteen years ago. But after Liang Wenxian showed Ji Ke’s diary and revealed Li Binbin’s confession, Cao sat dazed, then admitted his role, confirming they deceived police per Ji Ke’s plan.

His account matched Li Binbin’s, differing only in insisting others struck Huang Xuntong, not him.

On Liu, Tang, and Gan’s deaths, Cao Kexiong protested vehemently, “It wasn’t me! I haven’t been back to Xiarong in two years!”

Shen Qi’s surveillance review confirmed Cao Kexiong couldn’t have returned during the murders. He was clear.

The tricycle search progressed. Police dogs found a cart at Wangbei Bus Station in the northern suburbs with suspected traces of Gan Pengfei’s blood, closely resembling the one caught on camera.