Ji Chenjiao had no plans to let Ling Lie get involved in this case for now, but since he was already here, he might as well ask a few questions. “Come on, let’s talk.”

Ling Lie was just about to put on his own shoe covers when Ji Chenjiao pulled him over to the stairwell.

“Careful, careful! I’ll fall!” Ling Lie shouted in alarm. “Why are the police always—”

“—bullying civilians,” Ji Chenjiao finished for him.

Ling Lie steadied himself and muttered, “If you talk like a civilian, civilians have no comeback.”

The corridor in this type of building had honeycomb-shaped windows on both ends. The afternoon sun streamed in, golden and brilliant, casting a soft, fuzzy glow over Ling Lie.

Ji Chenjiao swallowed back the words he was about to say. “What are you doing here?”

Ling Lie replied, “You wanted to talk to me?” As he spoke, he fiddled with the unused shoe covers and regretfully stuffed them back into his pocket.

Ji Chenjiao gave a cold chuckle. “Came well prepared, didn’t you?”

“Of course. I predicted you guys wouldn’t give me any shoe covers. I’m clever, polite, and cultured.”

Ji Chenjiao couldn’t help but revisit a ridiculous suspicion—was Ling Lie some undercover operative from a higher-level agency?

“Cut the crap.” Ji Chenjiao pulled his thoughts back. “Why are you really here?”

“Our waist-drum team is in an uproar.” Ling Lie waved his phone. “The ladies are all talking about how the ‘Hat Queen’ is dead. So I came to check it out.”

“Your waist-drum team cares about her that much?”

“She was our inspiration and also our competitor,” Ling Lie kept glancing toward Unit 3-2. “Can’t I just take a peek?”

Ji Chenjiao caught the key word. “Competitor?”

“Well, businesses used to only hire waist-drum teams for openings. Among several retired waist-drum teams in Xiayang, our Chunliu team was the most famous.” Ling Lie spoke with pride. “But the ‘Hat Queen’ became really popular online, and our gigs gradually got snatched away by their Hongyun modeling group. All the ladies were fuming!”

Ji Chenjiao thought for a moment. “Did you ever interact with the ‘Hat Queen’?”

Ling Lie said, “I saw her once. You saw her too, actually.”

“Huh?”

“That time you came to Miaoshan to arrest me, the Hongyun modeling team was there. I saw the ‘Hat Queen’ from a distance.”

Ji Chenjiao recalled it. At the time, all his attention had been on Ling Lie—he hadn’t noticed anyone else.

Ling Lie added, “I never spoke to her, but someone in her group that day looked kind of like me.”

Ji Chenjiao: “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I’ve got a good memory, photographic. A handsome guy like me stands out among a group of retired ladies, don’t you think? That day their team had a guy too. Couldn’t see his face clearly, but I’m sure he wasn’t as good-looking as me.”

Ji Chenjiao: “…You couldn’t see his face, but you know he was handsome?”

“Being handsome is about aura,” Ling Lie said as he patted Ji Chenjiao’s shoulder and gestured between them with his finger.

Ji Chenjiao: “?”

Ling Lie grinned. “You don’t get it? I mean, guys like us—you can tell we’re handsome even without seeing the face.”

Ji Chenjiao shoved his face away. “Alright, get lost.”

Ling Lie looked surprised. “Did I not flatter you enough? I just called you handsome—can’t I at least get a little look inside?”

Ji Chenjiao had no intention of letting him meddle, so he quickly sent him packing. But he did note the rivalry between the modeling and waist-drum teams, planning to bring it up again when summarizing leads.

Zhou Qingxia, who had discovered the scene, was taken to a nearby hospital due to shock. By the time Ji Chenjiao arrived at the ward, she had calmed down a bit. Her eyes were red, and she sat on the edge of the bed. As soon as she saw the police, she burst into tears.

“I was scared to death! I’ve never seen anything so horrifying in my life! What on earth happened? How could Yuchun end up like that? Her neck… her neck…”

There were no other patients in the room. Ji Chenjiao asked, “What was your relationship with the deceased?”

Zhou Qingxia looked startled. The officer in front of her was young and handsome—the kind of man she’d love to introduce to her friend’s daughter. But the sharp, commanding aura he carried from years of dealing with criminals was like a ruler snapping across her knuckles, making her heart tremble and cutting short her meaningless complaints.

“We were both in the Hongyun modeling team. Yuchun and I joined the factory the same year—well, it was an accessory factory—we’ve known each other for over thirty years.”

Zhou Qingxia explained that Liu Yuchun had worked at the factory until retiring at age fifty. Zhou Qingxia herself had divorced and remarried before turning forty and moved out of the factory housing. Her new husband was a small business owner, so she didn’t have to work. Since then, she’d been passionate about fashion.

In recent years, she and Liu Yuchun hadn’t been in close contact, but their friendship endured. By the time Liu Yuchun retired, years of monotonous work and a tense family life had turned her into a worn-out, frumpy woman. Zhou Qingxia had pulled her into her own circle—an old sisterhood that loved dressing up and taking pictures in scarves.

At first, Liu Yuchun was shy and reluctant to embrace new things. But once short-video apps like Muyin became popular, Zhou Qingxia and the other ladies helped her with filters and video editing. Online, Liu Yuchun received lots of praise from strangers. Her mindset gradually shifted, and she eventually registered her own account.

“I always said Muyin is addictive. Once Yuchun got her own account, she got completely hooked. She became super eager during every photoshoot and even bought a ton of clothes from the app. She loved buying hats. With her outfits and hats piling up, she got popular—even more than me!”

Ji Chenjiao picked up on the slight note of envy in her voice and asked, “Tell me about the Hongyun modeling team. How do you get gigs?”

Zhou Qingxia replied, “Some young influencers like filming us. Parks often invite us to perform at events. We’ve also been featured by public accounts and vloggers. Honestly, we don’t make much money—it’s just for fun.”

She even used the term “vlogger” with ease, showing that these retired ladies were up to date with trends. Ji Chenjiao didn’t usually follow live-streaming culture, so he had to take a moment to digest it all. Only then did he get a clearer picture—

All across the country, retired women had become a “scenic attraction.” They loved wearing scarves and checking in at tourist spots. Spring blossoms, summer grasslands, autumn ginkgo, winter snow—wherever you looked, they were there. Though often ridiculed online, they seemed to enjoy it thoroughly.

Influencers used them for jokes and content, while city parks leveraged their popularity among peers for promotional purposes.

“When you were modeling or taking photos, did you ever run into disputes?” Ji Chenjiao asked again.

“Not really…” Zhou Qingxia’s answer sounded hesitant.

“Really?”

“Oh, well, when there are lots of people, a little friction is inevitable. Yuchun and I even had a fight once. You asking me so suddenly, I can’t really recall.”

Ji Chenjiao moved on. “You just mentioned Liu Yuchun had family problems. Can you elaborate? Her husband and daughter don’t live with her—did she ever talk to you about it?”

“You’re asking the right person.” Zhou Qingxia immediately perked up, even a bit angry. “Wang Xiaowen’s a terrible daughter. Yuchun poured her heart and soul into raising her. Back then she turned into a frumpy old woman just to save money for her daughter’s college. And what does she get? A line like, ‘Staying with you will give me depression,’ and she abandoned her mother just like that!”

According to Zhou Qingxia, Liu Yuchun’s daughter, Wang Xiaowen, wasn’t just ungrateful—she was useless. Their factory housing was big enough for the three of them. But five years ago, Liu Yuchun’s mother-in-law lost her husband and suffered a breakdown. She became mentally unstable and needed constant care.

Liu Yuchun’s husband, Wang Huiqiang, had to move to the county to look after her. The county was a two-hour trip from the city, and he only came back once every two weeks. Their relationship had grown cold over the years.

Wang Xiaowen resented Liu Yuchun for not helping to care for her grandmother. Their mother-daughter relationship worsened. Last year, despite Liu Yuchun’s desperate pleading, Wang Xiaowen insisted on renting her own place. And not just anywhere—she moved to the south end of the city, even farther than the family home was from Ganzi Street.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Why did all of you go to Liu Yuchun’s place today?”

Zhou Qingxia explained they had planned to take photos together at Miaoshan Park, then added, “I already felt something was off yesterday evening…”

She suddenly stopped and averted her gaze.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “What happened last night?”

“N-nothing. I just sent her a message, reminded her to dress nicely. But she didn’t reply. She usually does.” Zhou Qingxia was clearly uneasy, her hands clutching the blanket tightly.

“Ms. Zhou,” Ji Chenjiao warned, “Liu Yuchun was murdered. You were the one who discovered the body and called the police. Your statement is critical to this case. Please don’t withhold anything, and be responsible for every word you say. You mentioned she usually replies—why didn’t you call her when she didn’t respond last night, given how close you were?”

Frightened, Zhou Qingxia hurried to explain, “I just wanted to ask her to bring more hats!”

“Hats?”

“She was the ‘Queen of Beautiful Hats.’ Everyone envied her. Even though I’m wealthier than her, I still can’t afford as many hats as she has. I have a big family, and if I bought too many, they’d complain.” Zhou Qingxia grew anxious to justify herself. “I admit I was trying to get her to lend me some hats. Maybe she didn’t want to, so she didn’t reply to my message. I didn’t want to press her—calling would’ve been even more awkward.”

Ji Chenjiao had a hunch about why over a dozen people had shown up at Liu Yuchun’s home today. “If Liu Yuchun didn’t come to Miaoshan Park, you could’ve still taken photos. Even if you had to find her, one person going would’ve been enough. Did all of you come for her clothes and hats?”

Zhou Qingxia had no choice but to admit it. “Yes. I had told them before about her having a private dressing room. They were all envious. We could go to the park any day, but getting into Yuchun’s house—today was the only chance.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “How did you get inside?”

Zhou Qingxia replied, “When we knocked, we saw the key through the iron gate’s grille.”

Just then, Ji Chenjiao got a call from Liang Wenxian—Liu Yuchun’s husband and daughter had arrived at the city bureau. Ji Chenjiao had already gotten a good understanding of Liu Yuchun from Zhou Qingxia. He gave a few instructions to his colleagues assisting with the case and immediately drove back to headquarters.

He was beginning to form a theory—

Hats were Liu Yuchun’s signature item. The killer had stabbed her in the neck six times in a rage-driven attack, yet dressed her in one of her most praised outfits after death, adorning her with her favorite hat. It all had a strong sense of ritual.

This suggested the killer was likely someone from the elderly content creator circle, someone who harbored a deep resentment toward Liu Yuchun—but whether that resentment stemmed from jealousy or something else, it was still unclear.

There was no sign of forced entry at apartment 3-2. The murder happened in the early morning, and a day and a half later, Zhou Qingxia and the others found the key in the iron gate grille. Older folks sometimes hide spare keys outside, but not in such an obvious spot. Liu Yuchun wouldn’t have left it there herself.

Ji Chenjiao had carefully examined the iron gate during the scene investigation. The grille was decorative only. A key dropped inside wouldn’t be visible to passersby, but would be spotted by anyone knocking at the door.

The key’s placement there meant the killer wanted someone to break into the crime scene.

Why? To contaminate it?

With over a dozen muddy shoes from Miaoshan Park trampling through, that objective was fully achieved.

The killer seemed to know a crowd would come looking for Liu Yuchun today. Was the killer one of them?

At the major crimes division’s interview room, Wang Xiaowen sat in a daze, still not fully recovered from the shock of her mother’s death. She looked up at the unfamiliar officer who’d just sat down and spoke with a mix of confusion and anger, “Was it those women who killed my mom? It had to be! They were jealous of her—I told her that so many times, but she didn’t listen!”

Ji Chenjiao frowned slightly. “‘Those women’?”

__

Author’s note:

Ling Lie: Another day of flattery wasted.