Miaoshan Park had recently become the rehearsal site for the waist drum team. Under the blooming trees, retired aunties twirled their colorful ribbons. At first glance, it looked rather comical, but the longer one watched, the harder it was not to be infected by their joyful and optimistic spirit. You’d practically find yourself smiling along.

The bus stop was at the foot of the hill, while private cars could be driven up to the parking lot higher up. Ji Chenjiao drove Ling Lie to the top. As Ling Lie pushed open the car door, Ji Chenjiao also unfastened his seatbelt.

Ling Lie blinked. “Huh?”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “What? Only you’re allowed to come here?”

“It’s just not really your kind of place,” Ling Lie replied honestly.

“…?”

The park was filled almost entirely with elderly aunties and uncles. A few young people scattered among them were there at the aunties’ invitation to take photos. They blended in with the older crowd effortlessly—just like Ling Lie did.

Ling Lie, with the air of an old scholar, looked Ji Chenjiao up and down and commented, “Captain Ji’s aura is still better suited for solving cases.”

Ji Chenjiao gave a cold snort. “Mind your own business.”

Ling Lie didn’t argue. When he spotted the waist drum team, he waved enthusiastically.

Under the shade of a flower-draped arbor, all the aunties turned to look at once. Qiang Chunliu beamed, “Xiao Ling, you’re finally here!”

Ling Lie said, “Sorry, sorry, the police grandpa wouldn’t let me go. I barely escaped.”

The “police grandpa” in question: “…”

The waist drum team had witnessed Ling Lie being taken away not long ago. Afterwards, the Xiayang Road murder case spread all over the city. Naturally, some team members gossiped about Ling Lie. But Qiang Chunliu was the first to stand up for him. They figured, no matter what outsiders said, the Ling Lie they knew was diligent, kind, and modest—more considerate than their own sons. So they all waited for him to return.

“Here, I made you a new robe.” Qiang Chunliu stuffed a light green kung fu outfit into his hands. “The old one was for Spring Festival—this one’s fresher for summer.”

Ji Chenjiao thought the green color was eye-watering, but Ling Lie happily accepted it. “Thanks, sis. Are we taking photos today or rehearsing?”

“Xiao Ling, take a picture of us first—the group what now?”

“Group portrait!”

“Yes, yes! Group portrait. It’s trendy now. I want to post it on ‘Muin’.”

“You got it!”

Ling Lie got busy. Ji Chenjiao stood watching for a while but couldn’t find any joy in it. To him, this kind of thing was a complete waste of time and energy. Ling Lie had only just escaped being entangled in the case, and he’d already thrown himself into this kind of activity—Ji Chenjiao couldn’t understand it.

But Ling Lie’s smile seemed strangely contagious. Even Ji Chenjiao’s always-tense nerves began to relax in a way he didn’t expect.

The waist drum team eventually moved to a farther spot to continue rehearsing. Ji Chenjiao didn’t follow. He had more important things to do. Bringing Ling Lie here had already been off-plan. Getting out of the car had been off-plan. Watching this silly activity? Definitely not something he normally did.

He turned to head back to the parking lot, and just then, a sudden breeze stirred the air. The trees above swayed under the brilliant spring sun, shedding flowers. Reflexively, he held out a hand and caught one.

For some reason, he looked back toward the waist drum team. Ling Lie was now just a little green speck in the distance.

Ji Chenjiao let out the faintest chuckle, almost inaudible, closed his fingers around the fallen flower, and left in his car.

---

By mid-April, the sun was already harsh. After half an hour of photos and another half hour of rehearsal, Qiang Chunliu blew her whistle to announce a break and started chatting with Ling Lie.

“Xiao Ling, you don’t know—‘The The Queen of Fancy Hats’ have been stealing more and more of our gigs lately!”

“Well, we offer different services. Let them do their thing.”

But Qiang Chunliu clearly wasn’t pleased. Even though their teams did different acts—her group did waist drum, the Hongyun Modeling Team did catwalks—the The Queen of Fancy Hats were getting more and more popular. Most new businesses were shallow, she said. The moment they smelled hype, they all rushed to hire the Hongyun team.

Qiang Chunliu, who was glued to her phone and had picked up quite a few internet buzzwords from the younger crowd, said, “These merchants are just clout-chasers!”

Ling Lie smiled. “It’s okay. Trends come and go. They can’t possibly dominate all the gigs in the city. Besides, walking the catwalk is silent—we’re loud and proud.”

Qiang Chunliu complained sourly, “They’ve got massive speakers. They make more noise than we do!”

Ling Lie replied, “But you’ve got me, don’t you? I’ll beat that drum even louder next time, drown them out.”

Qiang Chunliu was only venting; she wasn’t really discouraged. After Ling Lie cheered her up, she was instantly re-energized. “Ladies, rehearsal resumes!”

---

The city bureau issued a public update on the case, but the Major Crimes Unit’s work continued. Online, many independent media analysts posted their own theories. Jaco, who had gained fame from earlier commentary, released a deep-dive video using the title Pandora’s Box of Xiayang Road, which quickly went viral.

The title was shared widely by various bloggers. When Ji Chenjiao saw it, he instinctively frowned. Without the police having publicly released Ji Ke’s diary or the old cases from Luchang and Pinglan Counties, how had Jaco reached the conclusion of “Pandora’s Box”?

But after watching the full video, Ji Chenjiao felt a bit more at ease. Jaco hadn’t revealed any internal police information. Instead, he analyzed the area from a sociological angle, pointing out that Xiayang Road was home to a population brimming with buried malice. These residents subtly influenced one another, and when something terrible happened, the hidden darkness was easily stirred—just like that infamous box.

At the end of the video, Jaco concluded that more people needed to notice Xiayang Road, to help change it, and to bring it into step with the fast-developing city of Xiarong.

“Nowadays all these streamers love to go for that emotional crescendo,” Shen Qi said, munching on a piece of cake from Xi Wan’s delivery to the Major Crimes team. “They give a big passionate speech with some dramatic background music, and boom—instant gravitas. The audience eats it up. Jaco got his attention and his KPI.”

An Xun, who had also come to grab a slice, added, “I’ve seen several of his videos. He started out as a pretty boy streamer, then switched to covering social issues. Pretty talented. He’s mixed-race, and honestly, some of his takes are more insightful than ours.”

Liang Wenxian said, “Let’s not sell ourselves short. He’s in-depth because that’s his job—and he’s got a whole team behind him. If you spent all day on it too, you’d be even deeper.”

An Xun laughed. “True that.”

After the cake was divided, it was back to work. As long as the real culprit behind Liu Yixiang’s murder remained unidentified, the Xieyang Road serial case couldn’t be considered fully solved. Within the major crimes unit, many believed it was a contract killing, but finding out who hired the killer required careful elimination, step by step.

Ji Zhan’s family hadn’t been a focus in previous investigations, but now they needed to be looked into thoroughly.

Ji Zhan, fifty years old, had a high school education. He ran a milk tea shop with his wife and daughter. Before starting his own business, he had worked as a chef in several hotels. His relationship with Ji Ke was somewhat distant. After getting married, he no longer lived with Ji Ke, but he still brought him home during holidays out of filial piety. Before Ji Ke passed away from illness, Ji Zhan and his wife personally took care of him.

Yao Ping, also fifty, met Ji Zhan through a blind date. Their marriage was harmonious.

Ji Linlin, twenty-six, was Ji Zhan’s first child. A graduate of an arts college, she worked for a small company for a year before starting her own business. She initially gained popularity by posting dessert-making videos, then opened a milk tea shop. She had made a name for herself in the Xiayang food scene.

Ji Xing, twenty-four, was Ji Zhan’s younger son. He worked as an appliance repair technician and lived alone. He had an introverted personality and didn’t get along well with his parents, but he was close to his sister.

Preliminary checks showed nothing unusual in the Ji family’s financial transactions or communications. What stood out, however, was that after Liu Yixiang was murdered, Ji Xing’s work schedule frequently placed him near Xieyang Road.

Ji Xing wasn’t a freelance repairman; he worked for the official repair service of a well-known appliance brand. When customer service received repair requests, they would assign them to technicians in various areas and schedule home visits. Ji Xing lived in the North City District, and his service area was mainly there too. He usually covered two communities about three stops away from Xieyang Road. This sudden change in his route could not go unnoticed by Ji Chenjiao.

Ji Xing had just come out of a customer’s house and mounted his motorcycle. He was checking his next job in the work group chat when a shadow suddenly fell across his path. He looked up, and his eyes clearly betrayed a guilty start when he recognized the man.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “You know me?”

They hadn’t met before. During previous inquiries into Ji Zhan, Ji Xing had never been present.

Ji Xing kept his head down. “You’re a cop, right? It’s pretty obvious.”

Ji Chenjiao studied him for a moment. “Where’s your next appointment?”

Ji Xing put his phone in his waist pouch. “Haven’t taken any task yet.”

“Perfect,” Ji Chenjiao said. “I have a few things to ask you.”

Ji Xing frowned, obviously unwilling. “Didn’t you guys ask all this already? I don’t know why that guy was killed in my grandfather’s house. My dad said he already refunded the rent. We’re going to sell the place cheap—we’re not renting it out again.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded toward his waist pouch. “Do you guys get to pick your jobs? Like how food delivery apps work?”

Ji Xing looked confused at the sudden question. “Uh… we can pick, or wait for assignments. No, it’s not a competition.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded. “So you’re working in this area today?”

“Yeah, it’s close to where I live.”

“Do you usually not take jobs near Xieyang Road?”

Ji Xing instantly tensed up, shoulders rigid. “Are you suspecting me?”

“Just noticed something and wanted to ask.” Ji Chenjiao’s tone was light. “After the first incident, you took seven jobs in or around Xieyang Road in a row. Why?”

Ji Xing’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He avoided eye contact, stuffing his hands into his work jacket pockets. Judging by the shifting fabric, he was clenching his fists.

“It’s our house that had a murder—it’s natural to be curious, right? Xieyang Road isn’t far from where I usually work. I just took those jobs to hear what people there were saying. I want the case solved too.”

Ji Chenjiao stayed silent for a few seconds, still observing Ji Xing. The latter squirmed. “Can I go now? You’re interfering with my job.”

“One more question. Have you seen your grandfather’s work notebook?”

The veins on Ji Xing’s hand popped the moment he pulled it out of his pocket. He quickly gripped the motorcycle handlebar. “No, never seen it. I don’t live at home. If you want to know about my grandfather, ask my dad.”

With that, he twisted the throttle and sped off.

Ji Chenjiao casually stepped aside, letting him zoom past, and watched the exhaust trail disappear into traffic.

He looked in that direction and murmured, “Ji Xing.”

Today’s visit hadn’t been an official interrogation, nor did he expect solid answers. The goal had simply been to test Ji Xing’s reactions.

And those reactions revealed that Ji Xing was clearly trying to hide the fact that he’d been taking so many jobs near Xieyang Road. His own explanation—that he was curious about what people were saying—was reasonable. But what made it suspicious was how nervous he became and how obviously he tried to conceal it, as if afraid the police would uncover something he’d been doing there.

What was he trying to hide?

While the team investigated the living, they were also continuing to look into the dead. Ji Ke’s notebook listed only a few “observation targets” such as Xin Yiping, all from two counties. And those two counties were places he had visited for work. He had traveled to many more places beyond those.

If Ji Ke had a habit of seeking “observation targets” during his work trips, it was likely he had done so elsewhere too—but either he hadn’t found anyone, or he had found them but didn’t record it in the notebook the crime unit had.

Investigating all the places Ji Ke had visited was like searching for a needle in a haystack, but it was still a direction worth pursuing. He had traveled widely, mostly within Xiayang City’s jurisdiction, including townships, districts, and neighboring cities. But even if they determined the locations, it wasn’t clear what line of inquiry to follow next.

“A case like Liu Yixiang’s is rare,” Liang Wenxian said objectively. “For Ji Ke to stumble upon it is even more so. What could we possibly find in places not mentioned in his notes?”

Ji Chenjiao had an idea. “Then we look into local cases that are either unsolved or were supposedly solved but with lingering doubts. Maybe we’ll get a lead.”

After work, as Ji Chenjiao stepped out of the municipal bureau, he saw someone peeking around suspiciously.

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

After renting out the apartment next to the bureau to Ling Lie, he had been busy with investigations and hadn’t checked in. Life for Ling Lie seemed the same as before—except now, used to living in a large home, he couldn’t sleep the first night in the small unit.

“Captain Ji!” Ling Lie waved.

Ji Chenjiao walked over. “What do you want?”

Ling Lie said, “Did you forget we had a deal?”

Ji Chenjiao thought, What deal could I possibly have with you?

Ling Lie said sarcastically, “The rich forget promises, the poor forget food, the moon forgets flowers, and the broke forget spending money.” He glanced pointedly at Ji Chenjiao while he spoke.

Then Ji Chenjiao remembered: Ling Lie had helped out in the Zhou Zongyi missing persons case, and he had promised to buy him a meal.

Here he was, cashing in.

Just as well—Ji Chenjiao hadn’t eaten dinner yet. He asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Ling Lie thought long and hard. Ji Chenjiao half-expected him to name some expensive feast, but Ling Lie grinned and said, “I want McDonald’s.”