Wangbei Bus Station, considered suburban by many in Xiarong City, was the last stop for several city bus routes. Without Ling Lie’s quick suggestion to check such urban-rural fringes—where lax oversight allowed tricycles to hustle passengers and cargo—the Major Crimes Unit wouldn’t have prioritized it alongside secondhand markets and wholesale group-buy hubs.

The area teemed with tricycle carts. The team zeroed in on one due to its owner, Old Tian, acting oddly. He was soliciting passengers roadside, his cart fitted with eight stools for up to eight riders—an illegal setup. Most drivers would shoo passengers and answer police questions cooperatively, but Old Tian bolted into an alley like a rat spotting a cat. A sharp-eyed officer directed the police dog, which, catching a scent, barked excitedly.

“You’re taking my livelihood!” Old Tian wailed, blocking the police from inspecting his cart.

Xi Wan was canvassing Xieyang Road, so An Xun, a forensic expert, took her trace evidence duties, calmly explaining, “Your cart may have blood from a murder victim. Our dog’s nose doesn’t lie. We need to take it for testing, and you’ll come with us.”

At “murder” and “victim,” Old Tian shook like a sieve, only held back from fleeing by surrounding officers.

“It’s not me! I’m honest, nothing to do with this!”

An Xun: “Then why’s there blood on your cart?”

“I… I…” Old Tian caved. “Fine! I stole it!”

An Xun: “…”

In the city bureau’s questioning room, Old Tian confessed. Last month, his own cart was stolen. Unable to afford a replacement, he eyed others’ carts. Three days ago, at dawn, he spotted over a hundred tricycles parked in an empty lot near Wangbei Station.

Envious, he lingered, about to leave when he noticed one unlocked. Checking the handle and tires—both solid—he saw no one around in the dim light, so he rode it home. The first day, he was paranoid the owner would spot him. By the second, bolder, he added a new lock, claiming it as his own. Who could take it back?

The cart was cleaned, with no plates or clear origin markers. An Xun’s meticulous inspection found soil in the wheel creases, distinct from Wangbei’s dust-covered ground, embedded deeply—likely from its usual haunts. With a comparison sample, they could trace its regular routes.

Extracting blood traces, An Xun found two blood types. DNA from the cart’s floor matched Gan Pengfei’s, but another, on the right panel’s sharp corner, seemed like a cut themselves, not dripped or seeped, as if someone got scraped.

The second blood type had no match.

“Shen Qi, check cameras along the route for this cart,” Ji Chenjiao ordered, then reviewed An Xun’s report. After a moment, he added, “Xiao An, revisit Jiayu Road. Collect soil from the dump alley’s greenbelts and the two nearby schools for comparison.”

Shen Qi and An Xun: “Yes!”

Not seeing Ling Lie, Ji Chenjiao called him. “Not at the bureau?”

“Back home,” Ling Lie said.

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

Ling Lie’s background was noisy, voices overlapping, including Xi Wan’s.

“Captain Ji, did I spook you?” Ling Lie teased. “Me, a Major Crimes investigator, ditching while you’re slammed, running off home!”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t bite. “Xieyang Road’s your home too, isn’t it?”

“Smart, Captain! Just helping Ms. Xi out,” Ling Lie said.

Ji Chenjiao cut to the chase. “Find anything?”

“Ms. Xi, your boss is checking in,” Ling Lie told Xi Wan, stepping to a quieter spot. “Got a lead. A woman matching your profile lived here, in my building, but moved eight years ago. Her old landlord has her ID copy from the rental—Xin Yiping, forty now. No one knows where she and her daughter went.”

“Good work. Extra meal today,” Ji Chenjiao said, hanging up and relaying the info to tech investigation. With a name, tracking was easier.

To save time, he narrowed the search to Jiayu Road’s schools.

Soon, tech confirmed Xin Yiping worked at Xiarong No. 7 Middle School, right by the dump alley’s right side.

An Xun, collecting soil at No. 7, snapped photos. The school’s cafeteria, garbage area, and playground had several tricycles like the one from Wangbei.

Seeing a police car arrive, An Xun was surprised as Ji Chenjiao stepped out. “Captain, what brings you here?”

Ji Chenjiao: “The suspect might work here.”

An Xun perked up. “I’ll compare the soil ASAP!”

“Xin Yiping, a cleaner here. Her child studies here too,” a school official said, worried. “She’s hardworking, endures a lot. Raising a kid alone isn’t easy. What’s wrong?”

Ji Chenjiao: “Where is she now?”

The official reached for the phone, but Ji Chenjiao stopped them. “Can you take me to her directly?”

The official contacted the cleaning team leader, learning Xin Yiping was clearing weeds in the grove, and led Ji Chenjiao there.

The grove buzzed with weed trimmers. The official pointed. “That’s Xin Yiping.”

The woman worked bent over, in rubber boots and the school’s gray uniform, hair pinned back with stray strands loose. Her hands were rough. After laboring, she straightened with effort, wiping sweat with the back of her hand.

The official called, “Xin Yiping, come here!”

Xin Yiping first saw the school official, then the police officer beside them. Her weary eyes suddenly sharpened with alertness and tension.

But she couldn’t flee—the grove behind her had no exit.

Ji Chenjiao flashed his badge. “Major Crimes Unit, Ji Chenjiao. We need your cooperation with an investigation.”

The official patted Xin Yiping’s shoulder, reassuring, “It’s fine. An upright heart fears no shadow. I believe in you!”

Xin Yiping’s lips parted stiffly. Her hair, disheveled from wiping sweat, stuck out messily, and her hands were grimy. At her age, constantly bending for work, she couldn’t help supporting her waist when standing.

“I… I’ll wash my hands first.”

A water basin sat by the grove, no need for a restroom. As she washed her hands and face, Ji Chenjiao watched. After, she retied her hair and told the official, “Teacher, if my child asks why I’m not home, please cover for me. Say the school sent me to work at the new campus, okay?”

The official nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

On the way to the city bureau, Liang Wenxian called Ji Chenjiao.

“We checked with Pinglan County police. Xin Yiping’s hometown is indeed there. Fourteen years ago, a death in Pinglan may tie to her. The deceased, Wang Shuxin, was intellectually disabled but physically strong, domineering, and indulged by his family due to his condition. They’d excuse his wrongs, saying a ‘fool’ can’t be jailed for murder.”

Ji Chenjiao frowned, glancing at Xin Yiping. She stared out the window, expression calm, thoughts unreadable. He lowered his earpiece volume and listened on.

“Rumors swirled about Wang Shuxin assaulting women. Police investigated, but no victims came forward, so it fizzled out. Later, Wang Shuxin fell from a building while drunk, ruled an accidental death. Coincidentally, many saw him harass Xin Yiping. When she left Pinglan, she was pregnant but refused to name the father. Most who knew her believed Wang Shuxin assaulted her.”

Liang sighed. “Wang Shuxin’s fall and Xin Yiping’s departure seemed unrelated, but with Huang Xuntong’s case and Ji Ke’s notebook, his death likely ties to her.”

At the bureau, Ji Chenjiao showed Xin Yiping footage of the suspect pedaling a tricycle in and out of the alley. She fidgeted, rubbing her fingers. “I don’t know this person.”

Ji Chenjiao: “Do you know Gan Pengfei?”

She shook her head.

“He lived on Xieyang Road, like you.”

“I haven’t lived there in ages. So many people on Xieyang Road—do I have to know them all?”

Ji Chenjiao locked eyes with her. “But he might know you. Your names appeared in the same diary.”

Xin Yiping’s crow’s feet twitched, her voice tightening. “What diary?”

“You must know Ji Ke, right?”

At his name, Xin Yiping’s head dropped, neck veins bulging, silent for a long moment.

Ji Chenjiao: “Ji Ke wrote you came to Xiarong City with him. He found you a temporary place, but couldn’t control you. I suspect that’s because of your child—you cared more about shielding her than your own fate.”

Xin Yiping’s breathing quickened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why am I here?”

Ji Chenjiao was direct. “Others in Ji Ke’s diary admitted he helped them cover up murders years ago, letting them ‘reform’ in Xiarong under his watch. I have reason to suspect you, also in the diary, are linked to a fatal fall in Pinglan the year you left.”

Xin Yiping inhaled sharply, fear etching every wrinkle.

“Where were you the early morning of April 13?”

“Sleeping, of course—it’s the middle of the night.”

“What was your relationship with Ji Ke?”

“I remember him, an old man. Yes, we talked, but a diary? I know nothing about it.”

“The cart had blood. The dumper cleaned it, but not thoroughly.”

Ji Chenjiao scattered his questions, and Xin Yiping grew increasingly agitated.

“What cart? I don’t have one.”

“The suspect couldn’t dispose of the cart, so they hid it in plain sight at a suburban bus station, far from Jiayu Road, among countless unlicensed tricycles.”

The interrogation room filled with Xin Yiping’s heavy breathing.

An Xun’s voice crackled in Ji Chenjiao’s earpiece. “Captain, Xi Wan and I analyzed the soil. It matches the edge of No. 7 Middle School’s grove.”

“Ms. Xin, I’ll be straight,” Ji Chenjiao said. “We suspect you’re tied to a murder and body dump. We’ve applied for a search warrant for your residence.”

Xin Yiping’s eyes flickered. As Ji Chenjiao moved to leave, she spoke. “Please don’t harm my child. She’s the most innocent.”