The subway arrived at the station. By then, Ji Chenjiao had already learned about the situation at the scene from the video sent by the police station. The Major Crimes Unit split into two teams—one entered through the main entrance, while Ji Chenjiao entered from the underground parking lot, circling behind Li Aibing.

At this moment, Li Aibing faced a problem: he couldn’t detonate the device while still controlling Wan Yue. He seemed to be hesitating, trying to figure out a solution.

If he stabbed Wan Yue, and the wound was treated in time, Wan Yue might not die. But if he detonated the bomb—even if Wan Yue managed to run ten meters away—he would still be blown to pieces.

Li Aibing’s attention was entirely on the police in front of him. Just a moment ago, he had seen a new group of officers arrive, several of whom he recognized—they were from the Major Crimes Unit.

His nerves grew even tighter. He swallowed hard, and the knife pressed deeper into Wan Yue’s skin.

Meanwhile, Ji Chenjiao and Liang Wenxian silently crept closer behind him, like ghosts.

Li Aibing seemed to make up his mind—the grip on Wan Yue’s hand was loosening. Ji Chenjiao signaled to Liang Wenxian, who understood immediately. The two shot forward like arrows leaving a bowstring. Ji Chenjiao tackled Li Aibing to the ground, locking down all his limbs.

Liang Wenxian raised his gun, aiming. Wan Yue collapsed in terror, unable to stand.

The rest of the Major Crimes Unit rushed forward to secure Wan Yue as well. Li Aibing struggled desperately, trying to reach for the backpack, but Ji Chenjiao gave him no chance—he deftly removed a Z-drug case from the bag, about the size of a mooncake gift box.

At that moment, the SWAT team arrived, and the bomb disposal experts immediately got to work. This Z-drug was powerful—if detonated in the building, it would have been a disaster. Fortunately, the structure was stable and not too complex, posing no challenge for the experts.

“Wan Yue is the killer! He killed my sister! He killed Tang Hongting!” As he was shoved into the police car, Li Aibing could no longer maintain the calm he’d forced himself to keep over the past days. He wept bitterly, hysterical. “I wanted to kill him! He must pay with his life! Why didn’t you let me kill him?!”

Wan Yue’s eyes were vacant as he was escorted into another police car. He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but then realized there was no point anymore.

Ji Chenjiao shut the door on Li Aibing’s side. “Save it for the station.”

Thousands of miles away, Xie Qing was unaware of the dangerous events unfolding that morning in Xiarong City. He had just arrived at the prison, sitting across from Liu Xiaolu, a former senior executive of Xiangtian Pharmaceuticals.

In the Major Crimes Unit’s interrogation room, Li Aibing hunched his shoulders, the excitement and arrogance he displayed while holding Wan Yue hostage having completely vanished. Now, he was trembling uncontrollably.

The bomb had been safely defused, and the Financial Harbor area was back to normal. Ji Chenjiao waited for Li Aibing to stop shaking before asking, “Did you make this yourself?”

Li Aibing stiffly nodded.

“You’ve been preparing for this for a while, haven’t you?” Ji Chenjiao said. “You didn’t just buy TNT and the detonator recently, did you?”

Li Aibing lifted his eyes but shook his head.

“Then why did you have this stuff?”

“For writing…” Li Aibing rasped. “I’m a writer. Last year, I wrote about Z-drugs. I wanted it to be as realistic as possible.”

“So you bought TNT to make it yourself?” Ji Chenjiao sounded surprised. “Did you understand the consequences?”

Li Aibing nodded again, finally meeting Ji Chenjiao’s gaze. “I never wanted to harm innocent people. That’s why I gave you time to evacuate. I only wanted to kill Wan Yue. A knife wouldn’t do—you’d save him.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “So you were willing to die with him?”

Li Aibing gave a bitter smile. “I failed. Will he get the death penalty?”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t answer but asked instead, “Why did you want to kill him?”

Li Aibing seemed not to hear. “Will he get the death penalty?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” Ji Chenjiao said, lifting his chin slightly. “If you want him to be punished as he deserves, you’d better tell us the whole truth.”

Li Aibing opened his mouth, slowly lowered his head, and after a long pause, finally spoke.

Twelve years ago, Cangshui Town appeared peaceful on the surface but was actually riddled with problems. There were no murders or robberies, but bullying and extortion were everywhere, like an incurable disease spreading through every corner of the town.

The Li siblings had moved back from the city six years prior. Li Aijie had changed her name to Li Xinbei, but this couldn’t hide the fact that she and Li Aibing were siblings. Fortunately, few in town mocked Li Aibing for being “extra-born,” and when classmates pestered Li Aijie with questions, she’d simply say Li Aibing was her cousin.

Li Aibing was withdrawn and had no friends. At first, Li Aijie tried to persuade him to socialize more, but when she saw he truly wasn’t interested, she let him be.

For the first five years, life was hard but manageable. They lived on the compensation from their parents’ death and the money from selling the old house in the village, budgeting carefully without suffering malnutrition.

But in the second half of Li Aijie’s sophomore year, a gang of local thugs began targeting her. Led by Wan Yue and Zhang Xuming, they were idle scum who roamed the streets.

They thought she was pretty and knew she had no family to protect her. They often blocked her on her way home from school and harassed her even more on weekends.

Li Aijie didn’t dare tell her teachers, nor was there any adult she could turn to. She could only endure the humiliation, thinking if she held on until graduation, things might get better.

But the mental strain dragged her grades down. She grew thin and anxious, visibly wasting away.

Li Aibing forced the truth out of her. Enraged, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen, intending to confront the gang. Li Aijie stopped him, refusing to let him go.

Having grown up drifting with poor, timid parents, Li Aijie knew best—they couldn’t afford to provoke Wan Yue’s group.

“Just endure it a little longer,” she thought. “Just a little longer.”

But she didn’t expect that Li Aibing couldn’t accept this. Behind her back, he went to Hualan Street to find Wan Yue, demanding a fight.

Of course, he was beaten black and blue. Li Aijie cried and begged, and only then did they let Li Aibing go.

His gaze grew dark, full of frustration at being unable to protect his sister.

Not long after, Li Aibing found Wan Yue again, offering himself in his sister’s place—telling them to come after him instead.

Wan Yue laughed loudly. This time, he didn’t beat him but asked, “For your sister, you’d do anything?”

Li Aibing nodded fiercely.

“Even kill someone?” Wan Yue asked.

Li Aibing gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

It was just words—Wan Yue hadn’t taken him seriously. After that, Li Aijie was followed less often, while Li Aibing was sometimes called away from school by Wan Yue.

Li Aibing had no friends in class, so no one noticed when he was gone. Even Li Aijie, busy with her studies, paid him less attention.

That summer, Wan Yue’s gang began seeking new targets. Li Aibing, called to Hualan Street several times, saw Wan Yue chatting and laughing with a city woman—Liu Yuchun.

Li Aibing heard Wan Yue speak crudely about her, mocking how easily she fell for flattery, how a few sweet words made her blush. Wan Yue knew she had a husband who only returned once a week.

“Find the chance, and we’ll give her a good time,” Wan Yue sneered.

Li Aibing didn’t know whether Wan Yue ever acted on this threat. But on that stormy night, Wan Yue and Zhang Xuming, with Liu Yuchun’s help, killed Tang Hongting.

As he spoke of this part, Li Aibing’s voice grew even hoarser.

Days earlier, he’d overheard Wan Yue and Zhang Xuming greedily discussing Tang Hongting. They said she would be even more fun to toy with than Li Aijie—but the problem was luring her out.

By then, the new school year had started. Tang Hongting attended classes by day and worked in a bar at night, always using the crowded front entrance. They needed a way to draw her to the back alley.

Wan Yue came up with a vile plan—get Liu Yuchun to trick her. Of course, he didn’t say “trick.” He sweet-talked Liu Yuchun into thinking this was a good opportunity for Tang Hongting to earn some extra money.

Liu Yuchun believed him and approached Tang Hongting, telling her to come to the back alley after finishing her shift.

Tang Hongting was pleased but cautious, asking what the job was. Liu Yuchun couldn’t answer well, so Tang Hongting guessed: was this arranged by Sister Sun from the soup shop? Liu Yuchun simply said yes.

No one knew why hearing “Sister Sun” made Tang Hongting drop her guard, but no one thought about this unimportant detail.

So unnoticed by all, Tang Hongting left through the bar’s back door and stepped into the pitch-black alley—not to meet Sister Sun…

But Wan Yue and Zhang Xuming.

Tang Hongting grew wary and tried to back away, but Zhang Xuming blocked her. At first, they only harassed her with words. But unlike Li Aijie, Tang Hongting wasn’t timid. She cursed fiercely and even picked up a stone to fight back.

This enraged the two thugs. Wan Yue drew a knife to scare her, but Tang Hongting resisted with all her strength. In the struggle, the knife plunged into her body.

Her cursing stopped abruptly. She convulsed, trembled, and finally fell still.

Wan Yue and Zhang Xuming turned deathly pale with fear. Liu Yuchun, who had rushed over from the soup shop to check what kind of good job they had introduced Tang Hongting to, collapsed to the ground in despair, unable to make a sound.

Li Aibing, whom Wan and Zhang had arranged to keep watch at the alley entrance, heard the shouting inside and rushed in—only to see this dreadful scene.

Wan Yue was the first to regain his composure. He shoved the blood-stained knife into Li Aibing’s hand and asked Zhang Xuming, “Who killed her?”

Zhang Xuming caught on immediately. “Li… Li Aibing.”

Liu Yuchun covered her mouth, her face streaming with tears as she shook her head violently. She had never imagined that her good intentions to help Tang Hongting would result in such an absurd tragedy.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, black clouds covering the dark sky. A torrential downpour was imminent.

Wan Yue grabbed the trembling Liu Yuchun and threatened, “Sister Yuchun, you’re an accomplice—understand? If you speak out, we’ll all go to prison! Zhang and I don’t care. I’d actually like to taste prison food. But what about you? You have a husband and a daughter, don’t you?”

Liu Yuchun shook her head frantically.

“It’s about to rain, Sister Yuchun. You don’t belong here. You have no grudge against Tang Hongting. No one saw you come looking for her tonight. Soon you’ll go back. As long as you stay quiet, we’ll all be safe.” Wan Yue’s voice was like a devil’s murmur. A flash of lightning lit up his face, making it ghostly pale. “After some time, go home. If you don’t talk, none of us will get caught.”

Suppressing her sobs, Liu Yuchun nodded hastily.

Wan Yue then grabbed Li Aibing by the hair. “Little brother, you killed someone. Want to rot in a cell?”

Li Aibing was still in shock, his eyes blank. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t kill her!”

Wan Yue said, “But we all saw it. It was you.”

With that, Wan Yue forced Li Aibing down and signaled Zhang Xuming. Zhang Xuming grasped Li Aibing’s hand and stabbed the knife into Tang Hongting again.

Fear gripped Li Aibing. He wanted to scream, but the thunder drowned out his voice.

“Shh—” Wan Yue pressed a finger to his lips. “No one saw. No one knows. Little brother, don’t you want your sister to study in peace? I promise never to bother her again, alright?”

Li Aibing’s vision went red. He couldn’t think anymore.

Wan Yue continued, “If you dare speak, I’ll kill your sister right now. I’ve already taken one life—what’s one more?”

Li Aibing shuddered violently, finally snapping back to his senses. “Alright… alright. I’ll listen to you.”

Before the rain poured down, the four of them stuffed Tang Hongting’s body into an air conditioning unit, hastily cleaned the bloodstains, and walked away carrying their shared secret into their own darkness.

The next day, when the sky had fully brightened, people found the body. By then, the rain had washed away the traces of their crime.

At first, Li Aijie never suspected that her brother Li Aibing was involved in Tang Hongting’s death. During the strict police crackdown at the time, the local thugs didn’t dare to make trouble, and she was even relieved, thinking she’d no longer be harassed. But by the end of the year, Li Aibing’s condition worsened day by day. Under her relentless questioning, he finally told her what had happened that night.

But the long mental strain had confused his memories, leading Li Aijie to mistakenly believe he was the killer.

Terrified, Li Aijie learned that Zhang Xuming and Liu Yuchun had already left Cangshui Town. The town became her nightmare. After New Year’s, she gave up her studies and fled with Li Aibing.

For twelve years, no one mentioned Cangshui Town or Tang Hongting again.

Li Aijie never returned to school. After working various jobs, she turned to social media. Li Aibing, disconnected from society, focused on writing and lived off Li Aijie’s support—until he finally became famous last year.

They had suffered half their lives and finally saw a new beginning—only for punishment to arrive at last.

“When you first came to see me, I knew,” Li Aibing said. “Liu Yuchun’s dead. Zhang Xuming’s dead. My sister’s footprints were at the scene. I know why she did it. They must’ve threatened her to reveal the truth because our family’s life improved while theirs didn’t.”

“My sister always protected me. She’d do anything for me.” Tears slid from Li Aibing’s reddened eyes. “She wanted me to live well. So I did. But now she’s dead—murdered…”

Ji Chenjiao said, “You figured out it was Wan Yue.”

“It could only be him.” Li Aibing lifted his head, letting tears soak his face. “I should’ve killed him back then. I should’ve killed him…”

In another interrogation room, Wan Yue knew that Li Aibing would reveal the details of the Tang Hongting case. As someone who had studied law, he understood that confessing now could get him the lightest sentence—though his foreign degree was practically bought.

“Tang Hongting’s death wasn’t murder—it was an accident,” Wan Yue said, wringing his hands under the table, not daring to meet Ji Chenjiao’s eyes. “Li Aibing must’ve told you, right? We just wanted to mess around with her that day. We’d never hurt anyone before. She insulted me, hit and kicked me and Zhang Xuming. I got angry and threatened her with the knife—I didn’t expect…”

Ji Chenjiao said, “But you prepared the knife in advance.”

Wan Yue defended himself, “It wasn’t to kill her! The town was chaotic then—you couldn’t walk around unarmed. I swear it was an accident. Otherwise, would someone as timid as Liu Yuchun have helped lure Tang Hongting out for us?”

Ji Chenjiao replied coldly, “But now Liu Yuchun’s dead, silenced by you and Li Aijie. That’s definitely murder.”

Wan Yue squirmed in the interrogation chair. The bright lamp cast an eerie pale light on his sweaty face. “What could I do? I was threatened!”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “By whom? Liu Yuchun?”

But the police had already thoroughly investigated Liu Yuchun—online and offline. There was no evidence she’d threatened Wan Yue or anyone else.

“She said if I didn’t pay her, she’d expose everything! Said she was the ‘Hat Queen’ and had influence online. She claimed to have read law books—that only Zhang Xuming and I were guilty, not her! If she exposed us, I’d be finished! I worked so hard for my life now!” Wan Yue trembled.

Ji Chenjiao narrowed his eyes. “She told you this in person? You met her?”

Wan Yue shook his head. “She had someone send me messages. Check my company records if you don’t believe me!”

Ji Chenjiao frowned. During the investigation, he’d sensed there was a third party meddling behind the scenes.

Liang Wenxian was searching Wan Yue’s office and properties. The computers and other items would be analyzed soon.

But Ji Chenjiao was puzzled—if someone else was involved, they must’ve contacted Li Aijie too. Yet her computers and tablets had been fully examined—even the deleted data recovered—with nothing suspicious found.

“Do you know who Liu Yuchun used as a go-between?” Ji Chenjiao asked.

Wan Yue’s expression turned fearful and lost.

Ji Chenjiao said, “You don’t know. But you’re afraid of him.”

Wan Yue fidgeted nervously. “You don’t understand… the feeling of being watched every second. He knows everything I do—but I have no idea who he really is.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “You’re so afraid you obey him completely.”

Wan Yue broke down. “I had to kill Liu Yuchun. Besides me, Li Aibing and Zhang Xuming knew. He said Zhang Xuming was drained by Yu. But someone wants me dead too.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Li Aijie?”

“I couldn’t even remember who that was!” Wan Yue grabbed his hair in frustration. “Later I realized it was Li Aibing’s sister—the one I bullied years ago. She feared I’d expose her brother’s secret. Am I crazy? Why would I do that?”

Ji Chenjiao said, “She lured you to Xuncao Second Village in the southern suburbs?”

Wan Yue: “That person told me. I realized I was trapped—but I had to act. Li Aijie wanted my life. I didn’t want to die!”

“To create an alibi, you went to clubs frequently to make it seem like you liked those places, right?”

Wan Yue nodded. “But I had no choice. Someone was guiding me. I’m not the mastermind!”

In a new high-rise in Dongcheng District with low occupancy, a man had just read the news on his phone—there’d been a hostage situation at Jinrong Port that morning. Police had subdued the suspect without casualties.

“Tsk.” The man stretched lazily in his chair, then walked to the coffee table, gazing softly at the scattered military chess pieces. He’d played a game against himself the previous night, got bored, and swept the cards all over the table.

“Forget it.” He patiently gathered the scattered cards, neatly stacking them with obsessive precision. “This is fine. The truly wicked get the death penalty; those who escape it destroy each other, lose what they love the most… haha…”

Having finished confessing the details of sneaking into Liu Yuchun’s home on the night of April 26th and killing her in her sleep, Wan Yue subconsciously let out a breath of relief. He now carried three lives on his back, but in his version of events, Tang Hongting’s death was manslaughter, and the other two were done under coercion. With a good lawyer and a proper display of repentance, perhaps he could plead for a suspended death sentence.

As long as it wasn’t execution on the spot, anything could be negotiated.

But then Ji Chenjiao said, “Is there nothing else you want to confess?”

Wan Yue froze. “What?”

Ji Chenjiao said a name that made Wan Yue instantly stiffen.

“Huang Ke.”

In the prison visiting room.

“A cop visiting me? Now that’s rare.” Liu Xiaolü was thin and spiritless. But before coming, Xie Qing had reviewed footage of him during his days at Xiangtian Pharmaceuticals—a man of refinement and poise.

“Did President Qian send you? What now, does he want me to take the fall for something else?” Liu Xiaolü suddenly paused, then chuckled bitterly. “Oh, you’re not a lawyer. You’re the police.”

Xie Qing chose Liu Xiaolu as a breakthrough point for two reasons: First, because he had confessed unusually quickly at the time, as if to protect someone; and second, because his position had involved drug trials.

Xie Qing asked, “Did you take the blame for someone?”

Liu Xiaolu let out a dry laugh. “Xiangtian is worse than animals. When something went wrong, they threw me—the tech guy—under the bus. Said they’d take care of my family, promised an early release. I’ve been rotting here for a year, not a single word from them. No one’s even visited. I regret it so much.”

So Xie Qing chatted casually about the economic crime case. That incident had nothing to do with Wan Yue and was completely unrelated to the missing Huang Ke. But Liu Xiaolu, long pent up, spilled everything without stopping.

When the conversation hit its stride, Xie Qing gradually shifted the topic, speaking of new drug trials and “incidentally” mentioning President Qian’s stepson, Wan Yue.

Liu Xiaolu, at the peak of his indignation, blurted, “Wan Yue’s killed before!”

Xie Qing asked softly, “Was it Huang Ke?”

And then Liu Xiaolu revealed a long-buried secret from five years ago.

Back when Wan Yue had just “returned from studying abroad,” of course he had to enter Xiangtian Pharmaceuticals. Eager to impress his stepfather, he once brought a man named Huang Ke to Liu Xiaolu.

At the time, the company was developing a new drug and needed test subjects. One look at Huang Ke and Liu Xiaolü refused—the man’s health condition didn’t meet the requirements.

But Wan Yue insisted that Huang Ke was an old friend from his hometown, desperate to earn money for his sick father’s treatment. Still, Liu Xiaolü held firm and said no.

Unexpectedly, Wan Yue secretly gave Huang Ke the drug. Due to improper handling and lack of timely medical care, Huang Ke died.

Though the incident was technically unrelated to Liu Xiaolü, it still reflected poorly on him as the person in charge of oversight—and Wan Yue was the boss’s stepson. After weighing the risks, Liu Xiaolü chose to turn a blind eye and let Wan Yue deal with Huang Ke’s corpse.

Afterward, perhaps out of lingering fear, Wan Yue did not dare remain at Xiangtian and soon left to work at Quanyao Investment. President Qian even bragged to others that Wan Yue was ambitious, independent, and hardworking, never relying on his family.

Liu Xiaolü sneered, resigned to his fate. “The body’s buried in the wild hills south of town. By now, probably nothing left but bones. If some wild animal didn’t dig him up, you might still be able to find him.”