Liu Yuchun’s identity as a senior internet celebrity and the leaked livestream clip drew immense public attention to the case. For a while, nearly all of Xiarong City was talking about the “Queen of Hats” and her death—everyone suddenly turned into unofficial police consultants.

After a brief respite following the Xieyang Road case, streamers and reporters returned to the scene in full force, holding up selfie sticks as they jumped back into their “re-employment.”

While the Major Crimes Unit was after the truth, the media were after gossip. Anything remotely related to Liu Yuchun was their KPI goldmine. In just half a day, Liu Yuchun’s entire family had been “exposed,” down to their figurative underwear.

Her solitary living arrangement was picked apart in countless ways: some said she was a spendthrift, causing her husband and daughter to abandon her; others accused her of being promiscuous, selfish, or unfilial. Conversely, some claimed it was her family who were heartless monsters who abandoned her, leading to this tragedy.

Verbal battles erupted on all sides, and the truth was buried in spit.

Still, there were independent media trying to track down evidence. The chat screenshots that went viral were released by a reporter named Li Aijie.

Li Aijie?

Ji Chenjiao found the name familiar. A quick search through earlier investigation records confirmed it—she worked for Rongxing Media and had gained massive attention with her reporting on the first homicide on Xieyang Road. Her articles had been widely reprinted.

This time, Li Aijie released screenshots from a small three-person chat group named “Old Factory Chives.” One member, presumably Wang Xiaowen, had sent eighteen consecutive messages ranting about her mother’s stupidity, brainwashing, and wasteful behavior. The most shocking messages included—

[Every day I wake up and hear her voice, see her face, I just want to ask—when is she going to die?]

[You guys might see me on the evening news. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to kill her.]

[Give me a recommendation. Which knife should I buy? Picture 1, Picture 2, Picture 3.]

[Why is someone like Liu Yuchun still alive? Why is she my mother?]

Once published, these screenshots were shared like wildfire. Internet sleuths were enraged, immediately labeling Wang Xiaowen as the murderer.

Ji Chenjiao quickly skimmed the content. The screenshots showed that apart from the suspected Wang Xiaowen, there were two other people in the group. If the screenshots were genuine, the reporter had likely received them from one of those two.

“Captain, the murder weapon matches the second knife in the images,” An Xun said, zooming in on Picture 2—it was a small stainless steel kitchen knife, with blade length and angle consistent with the autopsy results.

Forensic investigators trusted the evidence extracted from the body most. An Xun frowned. “Wang Xiaowen had motive.”

Initially, Wang Xiaowen and Wang Huiqiang were brought in merely as family members to identify the body and assist in the investigation. But now, everything had changed—Wang Xiaowen had become a suspect.

Under the harsh lights, Wang Xiaowen looked pale, trembling uncontrollably, her eyes full of fear, helplessness, and regret.

Ji Chenjiao laid the printed screenshots in front of her, staring into her eyes. “Is this ‘Xiaoxiao’ you?”

Wang Xiaowen’s breathing grew more rapid. After half a minute of silence, she gritted her teeth and admitted, “Yes, it’s me.”

The screenshots weren’t complete. Ji Chenjiao asked, “What was the context when you said those things?”

“Those were just angry words! I didn’t actually want my mom to die!” Wang Xiaowen’s voice cracked from distress. Clearly, the leak had caused her immense psychological strain. “They were my childhood friends. Every time my mom upset me, I’d vent to them. That’s all. How could I kill my mom?”

Ji Chenjiao said calmly, “We’re going to do a thorough investigation of your devices—your browsing and communication history included.”

At that, Wang Xiaowen’s fingers instinctively clenched the edge of the table, and her gaze flickered. “Okay… that’s fine, go ahead.”

Ji Chenjiao tapped the screenshots. “You said the other two people in the group were your childhood friends? How close?”

Wang Xiaowen lowered her head, disheartened. “We all grew up in the factory community. I thought of them as friends. That group was our ‘tree hole.’ I never thought they’d leak it.”

“Who are they?”

“Liu Canyang and Gong Shuang.”

Ji Chenjiao pulled up the knife screenshots. “Did you end up buying one of these?”

Wang Xiaowen’s pupils contracted sharply. She stared at the image, speechless.

Ji Chenjiao asked again, “Did you buy it?”

Wang Xiaowen suddenly shook her head hard. “No, I didn’t!”

Just then, Ji Chenjiao’s earpiece buzzed. He leaned back in his chair. On the other end, Liang Wenxian said, “Wang Huiqiang confessed.”

Ji Chenjiao raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Wang Xiaowen cast a nervous sidelong glance at Ji Chenjiao. As soon as he looked over, she quickly turned her eyes away.

Liang Wenxian continued explaining the situation as Ji Chenjiao stood and instructed his colleagues to keep questioning Wang Xiaowen. He headed to the adjacent interrogation room.

This time, Wang Huiqiang wasn’t silent.

“I killed my wife. That news is fake—don’t believe it! Xiaowen and Yuchun were close since childhood. The reporter is making things up!”

Ji Chenjiao followed his lead. “Why did you kill Liu Yuchun?”

“She was unfilial to my old mother!” Wang Huiqiang exclaimed. “Our family isn’t rich, but ever since she married in, my parents never treated her badly. Now that my mom is old, we’re not even asking her to take care of her—just to show a little concern, but she never does! All she cared about was that apartment in the county. She even told me to send my mom to a hospice so we could sell the house…”

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “She’s heartless. She kept her eyes on my paycheck and even wanted to sell our old home. Half a month ago, I came home and she brought it up again. That’s when I decided—I was going to kill her.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “Describe the process of the crime.”

“I have a key to the house,” Wang Huiqiang said. “On the night of the 26th, I snuck back and slit her throat.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “And then? Did you clean up the scene?”

Wang Huiqiang stiffened, his back straight. “Y-yes, I cleaned up all the blood.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “I advise you to think it over carefully and make sure your statement is completely truthful.”

Wang Huiqiang panicked. “Everything I said is true!”

“Then let me ask you, what knife did you use?”

Wang Huiqiang gestured with his hand, “About this long—the kind we use at home to slice garlic.”

He was describing the small kitchen knife shown in the screenshot.

Ji Chenjiao said, “Your daughter hasn’t confessed yet, but you’re already trying to take the blame for her?”

Wang Huiqiang’s usually droopy, triangular eyes opened wide. “Xiaowen would never kill anyone!”

“As I said before, since you’re sitting in the interrogation room of our Major Crimes Unit, your statement must be truthful.” Ji Chenjiao stood up, gazing coldly at Wang Huiqiang. “As for whether Wang Xiaowen committed the crime, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

In the Major Crimes Unit office, Liang Wenxian’s coffee delivery arrived. He took out one of the lattes and placed it in front of Ji Chenjiao. “This Wang Huiqiang is interesting. A normal parent, when shown that kind of screenshot, would instinctively deny it. But he? He jumps in to take the blame for Wang Xiaowen—that’s practically admitting she’s the killer.”

“Which means, as her father, he also believes Wang Xiaowen might have killed her mother.” Ji Chenjiao drank most of the coffee in one gulp and rubbed his forehead. “You want to know what struck me most when I was talking to him?”

Liang Wenxian paused from unwrapping a small cake. “Hmm?”

“He hates Liu Yuchun because of his own mother.” Ji Chenjiao said, “He may not be the killer, but like Wang Xiaowen, he resented Liu Yuchun.”

“Tch, the more you think about it, the creepier it gets.”

Ji Chenjiao finished his coffee. “Check the communication records of the Wang father and daughter. That knife in Image 2—Wang Xiaowen denies buying it, but I think she’s lying.”

Seeing Ji Chenjiao heading out, Liang Wenxian turned and called, “Where are you going?”

“To talk with Wang Xiaowen’s childhood friends and that journalist who wrote the article.”

After landing the most sensational scoop, the news exploded across Xiarong City, smashing her company’s KPI for the year. Li Aijie was riding high—motivated like a bloodhound, scouring the industrial park for her next target.

Ji Chenjiao first visited her company, Rongxing Media Group, to confirm she was legit, then tracked her down on Ganzi Street.

Li Aijie seemed prepared for the police to find her. Almost theatrically outgoing, she introduced herself right away, eager to fish for insider details from the police so she could score another KPI high.

Of course, Ji Chenjiao didn’t give her what she wanted and instead asked how she’d gotten the screenshots.

Li Aijie was very cooperative. She said she’d had no leads at first, but her journalist instincts led her to gossip around Ganzi Street. She found out the victim lived alone, while her husband and daughter lived elsewhere, which made her wonder if it was a dysfunctional family drama—maybe even a domestic murder.

She then tracked down Wang Xiaowen’s friends. Most of them refused to talk, but one—Liu Canyang—provided chat records.

“Liu Canyang is one of Wang Xiaowen’s closest friends. If even he says she’s got issues, then it’s probably true,” Li Aijie said, eyeing Ji Chenjiao. “Officer, let me buy you a coffee.”

Ji Chenjiao: “Thanks, but no.”

Compared to Li Aijie’s chatter, Liu Canyang was far more nervous. He worked at a small copywriting firm with only about a dozen employees. When a coworker said the police were looking for him, he turned pale.

“They don’t know it was me who leaked it. Please, I’m begging you—don’t tell them,” Liu Canyang said, trembling as he led Ji Chenjiao to a corner of the office building.

He was short, plain-looking, and spoke with his head pulled in, almost like a rat.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “You posted the screenshot because you believe Wang Xiaowen might be the killer?”

Liu Canyang mumbled, “She said she wanted to kill her mom. More than once. Normal people don’t say stuff like that, right? Now her mom’s really dead, so I thought I should report it.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “Thanks for the tip. Why are you so nervous?”

Liu Canyang: “I-I’m not nervous. I just didn’t expect the news to blow up like that.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded, seemingly casual. “Yeah, the public definitely thinks she’s the killer. We’ve already listed her as our primary suspect.”

Liu Canyang’s expression suddenly tightened. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he looked guilty. But what he said was just filler: “If someone really did commit a crime, they should be punished.”

Ji Chenjiao said meaningfully, “But what if they didn’t?”

Sweat trickled down Liu Canyang’s forehead. “Then… then they didn’t. I didn’t study law. I don’t know.”

Someone called out in the hallway: “Liu Canyang, what’s going on?”

Liu Canyang hurriedly said, “I have to get back to work. If there’s nothing else, I’m going. You guys already came to me twice—I just posted a screenshot, I really don’t know anything else.”

Ji Chenjiao’s ears perked up. “Who else came to see you?”

“Wasn’t it you guys?” But Liu Canyang couldn’t describe the person clearly—just that he looked good and had his hair tied up. “He said he was from the Major Crimes Unit.”

Ji Chenjiao: “…” Great. Just great.

At that moment, the “Major Crimes officer” flashed past the glass door of the office building. Ji Chenjiao turned immediately, and Ling Lie darted away at top speed.

Liu Canyang, after blurting out “That’s him!” bolted as well. Ji Chenjiao caught Ling Lie at the elevator.

Ji Chenjiao: “You impersonated a cop?”