While the detectives were busy, Ling Lie had already finished his food delivery task and was now sound asleep in the empty room Ji Chenjiao had arranged for him.

Ji Chenjiao had thought he wouldn’t be this obedient. After searching for him for quite a while, he was surprised to actually find him there.

Ling Lie could behave himself for once?

As dawn approached, Xi Wan completed the modeling of the footprints by the lake. Based on the shoe tread, the brand and style of the shoes were identified. Although there were few cameras at Fengyi Villa, a high-definition camera was installed at the banquet hall entrance. After comparing the footage one by one, they confirmed the shoes belonged to Yao Jue. His height also matched the modeling data.

“You must have made a mistake!” the assistant shouted tearfully. “Those shoes are really common! My brother has the exact same pair—so that makes him the killer?!” He turned back and tugged Yao Jue’s sleeve. “Brother, say something! Didn’t you say you were sleepy last night and wanted to go to bed? That’s why we went upstairs together, right?”

Yao Jue’s face was as pale as paper. His long hair hung over his shoulders, making him look especially frail.

Ji Chenjiao’s gaze dropped to his feet. He was wearing black boots now—different from the shoes seen on the surveillance footage when entering and exiting the banquet hall.

“The sneakers you wore yesterday—get them out and let me see.”

Yao Jue swallowed hard, the veins standing out on his slender neck.

Seeing him frozen, the assistant hurried to the shoe cabinet. “Fine! We’ll get them! Once you have the shoes, you’ll stop suspecting him, right? I’ll get them right now…”

He opened the cabinet. Inside—there were no sneakers at all.

The assistant froze. A cold shiver ran through him. He turned to Yao Jue in disbelief. “Brother, where are the shoes?”

Yao Jue lowered his head. “The mountain path was bad. I stepped in a puddle and threw them away.”

“But…” The assistant wanted to say something but seemed to realize something instead. He fell silent.

Ji Chenjiao took two steps forward. “Which path? Which puddle? Where did you throw them?”

Yao Jue pointed downstairs. “The trash bin outside.”

Officers immediately went to check—but the shoes were nowhere to be found.

Yao Jue gave a bitter smile. “Then maybe the cleaning staff took the trash already. Or maybe someone picked them up.”

The assistant quickly added, “Yes, yes! Someone must’ve picked them up! Didn’t you say the killer was wearing those shoes? They must’ve picked up my brother’s shoes to frame him!”

Ji Chenjiao stared into Yao Jue’s eyes. “Did you really throw the shoes into the trash bin?”

Yao Jue averted his gaze. “Yeah.”

“But the cleaning staff hadn’t done any cleaning yet. As soon as the severed hand was found, all regular work stopped. If you threw them away, they’d still be in the bin now.”

“Maybe… someone picked them up.”

“Are you underestimating the police? Forensic experts can tell if multiple people wore the same pair of shoes.”

Yao Jue’s shoulders trembled slightly. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I didn’t kill anyone.”

With a prime suspect identified, the investigation had a clear direction. Ji Chenjiao ordered a mountain search—first, they had to find the missing sneakers. Though Fengyi Mountain was large, if Yao Jue was indeed the killer, he couldn’t have hidden the shoes far. The search area was focused around the villa, making it a manageable task.

At 3 AM, with the help of police dogs, the special investigation team found the sneakers in a hillside cave two kilometers straight from the breeding lake. After Xi Wan’s examination, the shoes matched footprint set B at the crime scene.

Beside the cave, they also found another set of footprints—matching the black boots Yao Jue was currently wearing.

Under the harsh light, Yao Jue trembled. His assistant was already in tears. “Brother, it wasn’t you—say something! Tell them it wasn’t you!”

“Yes. I killed Kang Wanbin.” Yao Jue slowly raised his head, and in his eyes, Ji Chenjiao saw a strange kind of exhilaration—like the last flicker of light in a burned-out flame.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “How did you kill him?”

“Yesterday at the banquet hall, I told him I wanted to talk. Meet me at 3 AM—or else I’d take this party as a chance to expose everything he did to me, and all his shady business dealings. I’ve changed from what I was back then—I have no reputation left to protect. He’s the one with things to lose now. And this was a rare opportunity—full of influencers, some of whom don’t fear him at all.

“He had to come.”

Yao Jue had deliberately arranged for his assistant and stylist to play cards on the first floor, so that others in the building would see them leave the banquet hall early. Then, claiming he was sleepy, they all went back to their rooms separately.

The cameras in that building were broken. Yao Jue could leave without being seen. The villa was quiet in the early morning, except for the occasional laughter from the banquet hall—the rest of the buildings were swallowed by darkness.

Yao Jue went to the meeting spot, hid a long pole in the bushes, and concealed himself behind a rock. Before long, Kang Wanbin appeared, looking around cautiously, heading toward the tree where it was easiest to hide. At that moment, Yao Jue leapt out and struck him down with the pole.

Kang Wanbin cursed in pain, his dizziness making him sluggish. Yao Jue took the chance to tie him up, gagging him with cloth and tape. Without hesitation, he rolled Kang Wanbin into the breeding lake.

The splash was dull. Kang Wanbin’s muffled cries even duller. Yao Jue, summoning all his courage, used the long pole to push him further into the water, striking his head repeatedly.

Desperate, Kang Wanbin struggled, but every time he got close to the shore, Yao Jue pushed him back. Slowly, Kang Wanbin’s strength gave out. Bubbles rose in the lake.

Yao Jue knew Kang Wanbin was dead. He dragged the body ashore with a rope, chopped off his right hand, tore off the tape, and kicked the body back into the lake—then used the pole to push it as far away as possible.

Afterwards, he changed into another pair of shoes, threw the mud-stained sneakers into the cave two kilometers away, returned to the banquet hall, and threw the severed hand onto the roof.

“Didn’t think you’d find out so fast.” Yao Jue gave a bitter smile. “So be it. I killed him. Sentence me to death.”

But Ji Chenjiao asked, “Who was your accomplice?”

Yao Jue froze. His expression suddenly turned unnatural. “What accomplice?”

“We found another set of footprints at the scene. There were two killers.”

“No! It was only me!”

Ji Chenjiao said nothing, but the silence made Yao Jue uneasy. He added hurriedly, “Maybe someone else walked by? That place isn’t restricted—anyone could’ve been there.”

Ji Chenjiao: “You saw those footprints yourself?”

Yao Jue paused for a few seconds. “…Yes. I saw them.”

“Did you really dare to make a move on Kang Wanbin in a place like that?”

“Huh?”

“Someone went there, which means it’s not that secluded. Weren’t you afraid that someone might suddenly show up while you were committing the crime?”

Yao Jue instantly sat up straight, panic flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t find a better place. I killed him. I was the only one.”

After that, Yao Jue refused to say anything more.

Ji Chenjiao told the team to let him rest, and also made sure the others took turns resting. By now, dawn was breaking. The suspect had confessed, but the case only seemed to have become murkier.

Yao Jue was clearly covering for someone.

The moment Ji Chenjiao saw the two overlapping sets of footprints, he had thought something was odd. Unless the path was too narrow to walk side by side, footprints like that shouldn’t appear.

Yao Jue claimed he’d killed Kang Wanbin alone, but considering their sizes, Yao Jue was no match for Kang Wanbin. Even if he’d ambushed and knocked him out, Kang Wanbin would still have had a chance to fight back.

Besides, Yao Jue’s motive appeared sound on the surface, but if you thought about it carefully, it was full of contradictions. He said he no longer cared about his reputation—but for someone who didn’t care, his life right now was actually going pretty well. Why would he suddenly lose his mind and seek revenge by killing Kang Wanbin?

Also, he knew that this party was the perfect chance to expose Kang Wanbin. Why not choose that? Why kill him instead? Why did Kang Wanbin even trust him enough to meet?

If every person might act on impulse for their own reasons, the physical evidence made this case even less simple.

Yao Jue had chopped off Kang Wanbin’s right hand by the lake; there was blood in the dirt—but none on Yao Jue’s shoes. He must have planned to discard the shoes in advance and brought spares. But then why not get rid of his clothes as well?

Could he be sure no blood had gotten on his clothes?

But in fact—there was no blood on either his clothes or his shoes.

This directly contradicted Yao Jue’s statement. Most likely, he hadn’t been the one to chop off Kang Wanbin’s hand. Perhaps he and another person had overpowered Kang Wanbin together—or maybe he hadn’t lifted a finger at all, only kept watch. And now, for some unknown reason, he insisted he was the sole culprit and denied anyone else was present.

So who was this other person?

The weepy assistant? Unlikely. The quiet stylist? The stylist had only started working for Yao Jue last year—nothing but a normal work relationship.

The detectives were all exhausted after a sleepless night. As dawn broke, another batch of guests who had no opportunity or motive to commit the crime were allowed to leave Fengyi Villa. Yao Jue was also going to be taken to headquarters for further questioning.

The morning breeze was cool. Ling Lie, who’d slept soundly in the temporary rest room set up for the Major Crimes Unit, stretched and yawned till his eyes watered.

Not far away, at the parking lot, cars were ferrying people down the mountain. About a dozen others were waiting for a ride. Ling Lie was staring when Ji Chenjiao’s voice came from behind him: “You’ll take this car back.”

Ling Lie replied, “Sure, sure, I’m going.”

Ji Chenjiao had things to handle and didn’t waste words. Ling Lie grinned lazily like a well-fed cat. “So you’ve caught the killer?”

“Police business. Civilians shouldn’t pry.”

“Tch, so snippy again.” Ling Lie stretched comfortably, smiling. “But why did the killer throw the victim’s hand into the pile of crayfish shells, and insist on drowning him in the crayfish pond?”

Ji Chenjiao turned around. These two ritualistic acts could contain an important clue.

Ling Lie mused, “Actually, drowning him in the crayfish pond was enough. Chopping the hand and tossing it into the shells was extra—maybe the killer was afraid you’d miss the connection between crayfish and the victim, so they gave you a hint.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “So what’s the connection between the victim and crayfish?”

Ling Lie shrugged. “Maybe even the victim didn’t realize it. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have gone so carelessly to that pond.”

Ji Chenjiao fell into thought. “The victim must have done something involving crayfish long ago—something so minor he forgot, but which the killer saw as an unforgivable grudge…”

The car was about to leave. Ling Lie patted Ji Chenjiao on the shoulder. “Good luck solving the case, Captain. I’m off.”

Ling Lie was the last to board. There was one empty seat left. The man beside it sat near the aisle. As Ling Lie moved to enter, he said, “Excuse me…”

The man raised his head—and Ling Lie froze.

The driver yelled for him to sit down as the bus was about to depart. The man moved his long legs aside, and Ling Lie slid into his seat.

He didn’t know this man—but something about his face seemed strangely familiar.

Was it the eyes? They were a rare shade of gray, like shadows cast by clouds over fresh snow.

As the bus drove down the mountain, Ling Lie watched the reflection in the window. Before long, the man turned too, looking at the glass.

“Hello, I’m Bai Lingxue. I run a science channel online.”

Though his eyes were unusual, Bai Lingxue’s features were otherwise East Asian. His smile was neither overly warm nor condescending—just calm and gentle.

Ling Lie met his gaze for a while, then leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. Bai Lingxue didn’t force conversation and turned to the small TV hanging above.

The bus was noisy—many people chatting about the recent murder. Ling Lie rested his eyes while listening.

“I heard Yao Jue did it. The police took him and his assistant. So scary—I even talked to him yesterday!”

“Who’d have thought? He seemed so meek, but he killed someone?”

“Even a cornered dog bites. Guess Kang Wanbin pushed him too far. Honestly, half the people here probably wanted Kang Wanbin dead. Funny that the weakest guy snapped first, tsk tsk.”

“Eh, not our business. I’ve got videos to edit when I get home. You guys?”

“Same—this is gold material…”

Ling Lie usually liked eavesdropping on such talk—but now he kept drifting off. The man beside him made no sound, seemed to be asleep, but had such a strong presence that Ling Lie couldn’t ignore him.

Since leaving the Special Operations Unit, this was the first time Ling Lie had wanted to dig into someone’s background.

When they got off the bus, everyone scattered. Ling Lie was the last down, watching Bai Lingxue cross the street and hail a cab.

Only after the taxi disappeared from sight did Ling Lie leave, stopping at a roadside stall selling sweet soups. No one bought these in the morning; the owner’s congee was still warm. Ling Lie ordered a bowl of sweet congee, stirred it while pulling up his contacts.

His thumb hovered over “Captain” for a moment—then slid to “Shen Xun.”

Back when he was in Special Ops, Xiao Yu’an had been his captain. But that guy was long gone, chasing love instead of duty. After Xiao Yu’an left last year, Shen Xun took over.

Shen Xun once said Ling Lie was like a leopard—untamable. They were strictly business: orders given, orders carried out, no personal ties.

Yet now he wanted to ask an old teammate to check someone out—and Shen Xun was the only one he could call.

The congee was ready. Ling Lie finished it in a few bites, looked at his phone again—and didn’t want to make the call.

Just a moment of curiosity over a stranger. Probably nothing. If Bai Lingxue was suspicious, Ji Chenjiao wouldn’t have let him go so easily.

That thought made Ling Lie pause.

Did he actually… trust Ji Chenjiao?

He quickly shook his head. Trust had nothing to do with it. His most trusted captain left the unit for love—trust meant nothing but trouble. People shouldn’t build such illusions. If you wanted a bond, it should be like hunting.

Treat someone as prey. Hunt them as long as they interested you. Lose interest—and walk away.

That was one of life’s rare pleasures.

The moment Ling Lie first saw Ji Chenjiao, he’d known: this was an interesting prey. Every time he teased him, Ji Chenjiao stayed cold and proud—but the subtle shifts in his eyes, the faint movements of his lips and brows—made it easy to read the little snake’s moods.

For him, this was simply an amusing game. Meanwhile, the little snake was still basking in the smug satisfaction of having been flattered.

Ling Lie gave up on the idea of asking his old colleagues to help him investigate and was just about to pay and leave when his phone suddenly rang. The caller ID showed the very number he had hesitated over for so long without dialing.

“Good morning, Captain Shen.” Probably because he had just been thinking about teasing Ji Chenjiao, Ling Lie was in quite a good mood.

A steady male voice replied, “So you do remember to greet me. Seems like today is perfect for us to talk business.”

“Don’t spoil my good mood. You even dragged Xiao Yu’an out as an excuse. Didn’t he tell you I don’t intend to go back?”

Shen Xun was silent for a moment. “Captain Xiao contacted you?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Just as Ling Lie was about to hang up, Shen Xun said, “I’m not calling to persuade you to come back today.”

“Then what is this about?”

“There was a case in Xiarong City. The victim was Kang Wanbin, the boss of Wanbin Laihe. If you’re interested, keep an eye on it for me.”

Ling Lie raised an eyebrow. “What a coincidence?”

“Hmm?”

“I delivered food to that place just yesterday,” Ling Lie said, tasting the intrigue in the air, and chuckled. “But isn’t this case nothing special? Why would the Special Operations Unit bother with it? Captain Shen, are you trying to recruit me again in a roundabout way?”

Shen Xun sighed. “Captain Xiao said you can stay out as long as you want; it hasn’t even been a year yet. No need to be in such a hurry. Kang Wanbin’s case might not be that simple.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Since the beginning of the year, there have been several murders of entrepreneurs across the country. In some cases, local police have identified suspects, and they’ve even confessed—but the details remain suspicious, like they’re scapegoats. In other cases, police haven’t even figured out the motive yet.”

Ling Lie said, “So you suspect Kang Wanbin’s case is connected to those unresolved ones?”

“Hard to say.” Shen Xun’s tone was relaxed. “But you’re in Xiarong City anyway, and you seem to have a good relationship with the captain of the major crimes unit. If you’re interested, keep an eye out and pass me some intel.”

“Tsk. Not even paying me for this.” Though he said that, Ling Lie was indeed a little interested in this case. He asked, “You’re not connecting these cases just because they were all entrepreneurs, right?”

Shen Xun said, “They were all entrepreneurs with skeletons in their closets.”

“Which entrepreneur doesn’t have skeletons? Saints can’t survive in business.”

“Significant moral failings,” Shen Xun added. “This isn’t a formal assignment, and I’m not sending anyone to Xiarong City yet. If no suspect turns up in Kang Wanbin’s case, we’ll take it over for joint investigation later. The key is, if a suspect does appear, pay attention to whether there are any questions left unanswered.”

Ling Lie was silent for a moment. “Fine.”

He and Shen Xun weren’t like him and Xiao Yu’an—apart from work, they rarely chatted about anything else. Once this was said, neither felt like wasting more words. Ling Lie suddenly thought of a procedural problem and said, “I’m just a civilian now—I’m not qualified to inquire about the case. What if Xiarong City police don’t give me access?”

Shen Xun replied, “You’ve been in and out of the city bureau so often—don’t you think their Criminal Investigation Division Captain Xie Qing knows? Relax. And if that doesn’t work—you’re still the roommate of the major crimes unit captain, aren’t you?”

Ling Lie: “…” Is this really how one’s roommate status should be used?

The personnel involved gradually left Fengyi Villa, but because there were still so many doubts, the major crimes unit and the local precinct didn’t stop working. Both sides gathered for a meeting to share their findings.

The Nancheng precinct was mainly responsible for investigating Kang Wanbin and Wanbin Laihe’s network of connections. Chen Jing brought up document after document on the screen.

“Kang Wanbin’s hometown is Tongqie County. Before the crackdown on organized crime, the Kang family was a major force there. Back then, his father Kang Junlin, his elder brother Kang Wanhai, plus a bunch of distant relatives and sons-in-law, ran martial arts schools there, but in reality, they were raising a gang of thugs.

“Kang Wanbin was the youngest of the family, physically average, and seemingly uninvolved in the Kang family’s dirty dealings. He even studied abroad. When he returned to China, the government was cracking down hard on people like Kang Junlin. Kang Wanbin earned merit by informing on them. The entire Kang family lost power over a decade ago, but Kang Wanbin invested in legitimate businesses. At first, he did industry and trade, and in recent years, he shifted to the internet and gaming industries and did very well.”

“He was most criticized for three things. First, ‘betraying his family for justice.’ His father and brother are still in prison, but many of the people who once worked with the Kang family are now out and living poorly. They resent him and have motives for revenge. However, I haven’t found evidence that any of them entered Fengyi Villa. If they wanted to strike, Fengyi Villa seems like an unlikely place.”

“Second, his private life. Kang Wanbin married at twenty-six—the daughter of a real estate tycoon. The marriage was seen as a business alliance. They had no children and divorced after four years, going their separate ways. After that, freed from family ties, Kang Wanbin completely let himself go—constantly changing lovers, abusing both men and women. Some approached him for money, but others, like Yao Jue, were forced.”

“Third, his ruthless business tactics. Wanbin Laihe was originally two small game studios. Kang Wanbin lured and bought them with false promises, destroyed their creative cores, copied content massively, and forced the original founders out. Now Wanbin Laihe is thriving, but all built with money. One of the original founders, He Lin, committed suicide three years ago because she couldn’t bear seeing her life’s work ruined.”

On the screen appeared a bright, capable young woman with short hair, smiling brilliantly—a photo that had long since turned black and white.

“In short, Kang Wanbin made many enemies. There are at least twenty people with motives to kill him.” Chen Jing looked at Ji Chenjiao. “Captain Ji, if Yao Jue isn’t the only killer, we can investigate further along these three lines.”

The major crimes unit had meanwhile focused on suspicious people at the scene. Aside from Yao Jue, who had confessed, more than ten others had behaved strangely or were closely connected to Kang Wanbin and Wanbin Laihe.

Especially his business partner Luo Wanwan, who vanished after Kang Wanbin’s death, with her phone switched off. Police have not yet determined her whereabouts.

She was last seen around 11 p.m. on June 5th in the banquet hall, as confirmed by surveillance. But where she went after that remains unknown.

Footprints by the fish-breeding lake appeared to be male in size, but they were badly disturbed and could have been left by a woman wearing men’s shoes to mislead investigators. Her disappearance at that odd timing made her especially suspicious. It’s possible she was the mysterious third person who vanished.

Additionally, new fresh footprints were found by Xi Wan outside Kang Wanbin’s bedroom window on the second floor. Someone had been there before or after the crime but seemed to have left without doing anything inside.

But the prints couldn’t identify who, since the person had been wearing slippers provided by the villa, the same as everyone else.

Kang Wanbin’s communication records revealed nothing suspicious. No messages or notes were found in his room or clothes. He wasn’t in the habit of going out late at night—so why had he gone out alone at 3 a.m.? Was Yao Jue’s threat really enough to make him comply?