Ling Lie said with an air of wisdom, “Human joys and sorrows aren’t universal—interests probably aren’t either.”

Ji Chenjiao glanced at him, scoffing lightly, “Are you shading me for not getting why you volunteered at a kindergarten for sauce-meat buns?”

Ling Lie zipped his lips with his right hand, a cheeky gesture that somehow came off as oddly endearing.

[H and L often read together. Today, H asked if he could work in the factory like me. Foolish—he’d just get bullied with that personality. Z, T, K, C, G—these guys are scum. But it’s worth pondering: aren’t the worst people the most common in our world?]

Ji Chenjiao: “The letters match Zhu Ming, Tang Xiaofei, Kuang Feng, Cao Kexiong, Gan Pengfei, and Li Binbin.”

Flipping further, Ji Ke had summarized traits for each lettered person. Gan Pengfei got the most notes—construction crew leader, explosively temperamental, initiator of bullying Huang Xuntong. Others either mimicked him or curried favor by joining in.

In Ji Ke’s view, Liu Yixiang, from a wealthy family, was even more unfortunate than Huang Xuntong. [H at least has ideas. His submission is forced—he knows his weakness feeds his coworkers’ sadistic pleasure, so he plays along for a stable job. Given a chance, he’d escape or retaliate. H seems to be passing rebellious, survivalist ideas to L. What will L do?]

Ji Chenjiao: “Remember Gong Xiang saying Liu Yixiang changed after meeting Huang Xuntong?”

Ling Lie nudged him to keep reading. “I bet Ji Ke concludes Liu Yixiang, influenced by Huang Xuntong, killed Wang Shun’s family.”

[An exhilarating day!]

Ling Lie: “That’s it?”

Just one page with that line, followed by work logs. They kept searching, and ten minutes later, Ji Chenjiao said, “Here.”

[This deserves recording. I never imagined such gains from Luchang County! I’m their savior—they’ll owe me gratitude for life! H died, L survived, W’s family died, G and others lived! My strategy! My only regret is H—he didn’t die! But be thankful for me—beaten so badly, too poor to heal, that’s tragic!]

Ji Chenjiao: “This is about the fire, right? Ji Ke was involved? Did he make Liu Yixiang and Gan Pengfei abandon Huang Xuntong at Wang’s place?”

The aged paper, laden with murky sins, rustled under calloused fingers.

[I taught them to reform. The past needn’t haunt them. This may be my greatest production insight—turning murderers into upstanding citizens. I think I succeeded.]

Later entries detailed Liu Yixiang and others settling on Xieyang Road, clearly with Ji Ke’s aid. Bearing guilt, they evaded punishment through one death. Cheap rents gave them a foothold, and city jobs paid better than small-town construction gigs, though the work was grueling.

Ji Ke, like a farmer tracking chickens, gleefully noted their “progress” and “transformation.”

[L bought his house. He’s grown the most—is it H’s spirit guiding him?]

[By law, they’d all be jailed. I’ve read every legal text—only L would face death. The others wouldn’t. But for vileness, G outranks them. L was coerced, helpless. That’s unfair. Can death or prison change them? No. If G got out, they’d reoffend. So I’ll reform them.]

On the final page, Ji Ke was smug, proud that they’d bought homes, becoming city contributors.

“Absurd, twisted logic,” Ji Chenjiao said. “Justifying aiding and abetting suspects?”

Ling Lie, amid dusty boxes, said, “Ji Ke was more educated than Liu Yixiang’s crew. If he orchestrated burning Huang Xuntong, he’d be their benefactor. In Xiarong, they obeyed him, worked hard. Three years ago, Ji Ke died, removing their leash. Liu Yixiang started spiraling. Now, someone’s eliminating those in the know, seeking total freedom.”

Ji Chenjiao’s phone rang. He answered, “Brother Liang, any progress?”

Liang Wenxian’s voice mixed with wind noise. “Found Cao Kexiong—in his hometown, Tonghe City. Tonghe’s bureau is escorting him back. Captain Ji, we might’ve been wrong. If Cao Kexiong’s been hiding in Tonghe, he’s not our killer.”

Ji Chenjiao, steady, said, “No matter. We’ve got key clues at Ji Ke’s.”

After the call, Ling Lie stretched his sore legs. “Taking a break.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded, flipping the notebook again. He strongly suspected Ji Ke was a covert criminal. Not all criminal minds act directly—some, like Ji Ke, shield offenders with lofty excuses.

Like crime, Ji Ke’s “observation” and “reformation” were addictive. Ji Zhan said his father loved work, traveling despite his age, but Ji Ke likely used trips to scout “subjects.”

Liu Yixiang’s group probably wasn’t his only “project.”

Following the pattern of neat versus messy pages, another “subject” emerged.

[Pinglan County, X. She’s more deserving of help than anyone.]

[X is too clever. I invited her to Xieyang Road. Today, she asked if Huang Xuntong was like her.]

[X moved away. Good. I couldn’t control her, but she’ll likely be a good mother.]

Ji Ke’s notes on X were sparse but revealing. She arrived at Xieyang Road after Liu Yixiang’s group, knew their secrets, and likely left to escape Ji Ke’s influence.

When she committed her crime, she had a child, likely young. She left soon after meeting Ji Ke, showing she guarded her secrets more fiercely than Liu Yixiang and the others.

Ji Chenjiao packed up all of Ji Ke’s belongings. Ji Zhan, trembling at the door, said, “My dad… he wouldn’t have done anything wrong, right? He was honest and kind his whole life, patient with younger folks.”

Ji Chenjiao wanted to say that many with criminal personalities blend into everyday life, often appearing sunnier than average. Who says a kind, honest elder is always good? But seeing Ji Zhan’s worried face, he swallowed the words and asked, “Do you recall your father bringing back a woman during one of his trips?”

Ji Zhan was shocked. “My father wasn’t like that!”

Clearly misunderstanding, Ji Chenjiao clarified, “It’s not about personal conduct. He just helped her settle in Xiarong City.”

Ji Zhan wiped cold sweat. “No memory of that. He barely interacted with neighbors—no way he brought a woman back, right? I’m not lying—ask anyone on Xieyang Road.”

Ji Zhan wasn’t lying. Ji Ke deliberately hid his ties to his “observation subjects.” To neighbors, they had near-zero contact. When the first murder occurred, Major Crimes scoured Xieyang Road. The crime scene was 4-2, where Ji Ke lived for years. If he’d been close to the victim, he’d have been a prime suspect.

So, Xieyang Road residents likely never saw him with any woman.

Ji Ke’s notebooks were now key evidence. Cao Kexiong was en route to Xiarong City, while Kuang Feng was abroad, beyond the team’s reach. Only Li Binbin remained under police watch.

During Liang Wenxian’s questioning, Li Binbin’s defenses nearly crumbled. After a day at home, rattled by past events and fear of being targeted, he grew paranoid. When Ji Chenjiao showed him copied notebook pages, his face paled after a few lines, and he broke. “I didn’t kill Huang Xuntong! Blame Gan Pengfei! He was the boss—we all followed him!”

Seventeen years ago, Li Binbin, a barely-educated rural youth, saw construction work as his best shot. He left home with older townsfolk, initially sticking to them, then meeting Kuang Feng and later Gan Pengfei. Similar in age and temperament, they formed a tight-knit group in a strange land.

Midway, Huang Xuntong joined. Li Binbin disliked him, finding his burdens and brooding demeanor off-putting. But Gan Pengfei kept him, taking pleasure in bullying him.

Perhaps every group needs a scapegoat. Li Binbin soon found joy in venting on Huang Xuntong.

Before Luchang County, their crew had about ten members, loosely knit. Some worked a project together, then split for other gigs. Gan Pengfei landed a job with Boss Wang, needing only six men. He didn’t pick the strongest but included scrawny Huang Xuntong.

In Luchang County, the bullying intensified. Huang Xuntong endured it, even befriending someone—Wang’s nephew, Liu Yixiang, whom Li Binbin learned was just Wang’s lackey.

Half a year later, as the project neared completion, Gan Pengfei suggested drinks. They never invited Huang Xuntong, but that day, they did, expecting him to pay.

Huang Xuntong said his money went to his sick grandmother. At the diner, Gan Pengfei stayed quiet, but back at their makeshift dorm, he slapped Huang Xuntong.

Huang Xuntong hit the ground. Fueled by alcohol, Gan Pengfei spewed vile insults about Huang’s grandmother, calling her a corpse hoarding cash.

Huang Xuntong usually took beatings silently, but whether drunk or unable to bear the insults, he lunged, headbutting Gan Pengfei, fighting desperately.

Li Binbin and the others, naturally biased, turned it into a group beating.

“Wait! Stop!” Li Binbin sensed something wrong. “Why’s he not moving?”

Huang Xuntong lay still, lifeless.

Panic struck. Even Gan Pengfei, usually decisive, was stumped. Hastily, they decided to haul him to the site. Bury him, pour concrete—no one would find the body unless the building was razed.

Without a body, they were safe.

But at the site, Li Binbin saw someone rushing toward them.

In the dim-lit construction zone, the workers who’d just “killed” Huang Xuntong crossed paths with Liu Yixiang, who’d murdered Wang Shun’s family.