After Ji Chenjiao finished showering, Ling Lie was sitting on the carpet playing the Switch. He even waved him over, inviting him to play together. Ji Chenjiao did walk over—but only to snatch Ling Lie’s controller away.

One was standing, the other sitting cross-legged on the floor—of course Ji Chenjiao had the advantage in position. When Ling Lie tried to stand up, Ji Chenjiao poked him lightly on the forehead, making him lose balance and fall back down. Ji Chenjiao took the chance to slip around to the other side, quickly cleared a level, saved the game, turned off the console, and shut off the TV—all in one go.

Ling Lie was completely stunned.

Ji Chenjiao said, “Go to bed early. Tomorrow’s mission will be tough.”

Ling Lie replied, “Like I care how tough your mission is. I’m just a useless suspect.”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t argue. He simply stated his plan: “The investigation at the Nancheng Branch looks thorough—they’ve looked into a lot of possible grudges involving the Kang family. The only thing they overlooked is Kang Wanbin’s role in all of this. Tomorrow I’m going to visit the prison and talk to Kang Wanbin’s father, brothers, and uncles. If time allows, I’ll also stop by Tongqie County.”

Tongqie County—the old stronghold of the Kang family.

Ling Lie’s hand inched toward the controller. “Go on, go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back!”

Ji Chenjiao shot him a glare. “You’re coming with me.”

“Huh?”

“Since you’ve gone through the procedures with the municipal bureau, don’t slack off now.”

Ling Lie groaned miserably. “Didn’t you already check out Tongqie County?”

“Wrong angle,” Ji Chenjiao said. “Back then we were stuck in a fixed mindset—we thought Kang Wanbin’s crimes only started after the Kang family was imprisoned. We assumed he didn’t take part in the family’s dirty business while they were still in Tongqie County, and that he wasn’t even in the country when the Kang family was at its peak. But he grew up in that Kang family swamp—he might have been tainted from the very start.”

Ling Lie yawned and rubbed his eyes. “That’s the price of relying on others, yeah, yeah, got it.”

Ji Chenjiao looked at his pitiful expression and felt speechless, but also a little amused.

Some office lights at the municipal bureau would stay on all night—those belonged to the on-duty detectives and SWAT team. Nearby, the family housing block gradually went dark, merging into the city’s nighttime silence.

But the Yuyong Yongge Hotel in Nancheng District remained brightly lit like a crystal towering in the darkness.

A man said, “Mr. Bai, Luo Wanwan is confirmed dead.”

“As expected, a useless piece of trash.” Bai Lingxue turned from the window. “Did you erase all traces of contact?”

“Rest assured, Mr. Bai.” The speaker was codenamed “Nasheng.” His features were sharper than an average East Asian’s, his skin pale, gray eyes reflecting a hint of seductive menace under the room’s warm orange light. “Luo Wanwan wasn’t one of us. Even her target, Kang Wanbin, was just a worthless pawn. Giving her that mission was only meant as an experiment.”

Bai Lingxue nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing. Don’t let scum like them affect the plan again.”

Nasheng asked, “Mr. Bai, what would you like me to do next?”

“Go back and keep an eye on ‘The Evil Queen.’ Satisfy her as much as possible. Report to me immediately if she makes any move.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nasheng was about to leave when Bai Lingxue added, “How is Wei Liang these days?”

Nasheng froze, not immediately recalling who that was. After two seconds, he said, “You mean the one Brother Yu insisted on saving years ago, even willing to serve time himself…?”

Bai Lingxue didn’t answer, toying with a lighter.

Nasheng quickly said, “He’s been out of prison for a while, living with his mother’s family, running a hotpot restaurant. Should I confirm this?”

“Do it. Get all the details. And then…” Bai Lingxue smiled coldly. “Find an opportunity to kill him.”

“Yes, sir!”

After Nasheng left, Bai Lingxue sat on the sofa for a while before opening the door. He took the empty elevator down dozens of floors—as if descending into a luxurious hell.

A black sedan wove through the glittering city lights, heading for a villa district on the outskirts called Yuyong Tange.

Just from the name, it was clear the developer was the same as Yuyong Yongge Hotel—the powerful Yu Corporation.

Late at night, the villa owners were almost all asleep. Bai Lingxue arrived at one particular villa, and the elevator descended again, though not as far as the hotel’s.

When the doors opened, a dimly lit room appeared, its warmth soft and inviting.

A man lay unconscious on the bed inside.

Bai Lingxue gazed at him for a long time, then spoke softly: “Your beloved student is still looking for you. I don’t want to hurt him… just like I never wanted to hurt you back then. If only you had cooperated a little…”

After a pause, Bai Lingxue added, “But I might break my promise. You know, the prey I’ve been after is now with him. Blame fate for that. Don’t you think so, Captain Ning?”

The next morning, Ji Chenjiao awoke to the sound of cheerful waist drums, full of irritation, and nearly flung the troublesome Ling Lie off the bed.

Ling Lie righteously scolded him, “Who was it that said you had to get up early to investigate today? I’m your human alarm clock—you should thank me! And you want to throw me? Wow, what kind of cop are you? I’ll file a complaint!”

Ji Chenjiao was going crazy. Sure, the sun rose early in June—but it was only six o’clock!

“You’ll complain about me? The neighbors should complain about you for disturbing the peace!”

“That’s why I closed the windows and your bedroom door! I made sure only you’d hear it. Hee hee!”

Ji Chenjiao grabbed a ribbon and smacked it onto Ling Lie’s head.

With such commotion, going back to sleep was impossible. Both moved quickly and were in the car by 6:30.

And Ji Chenjiao realized something unsettling—Ling Lie had made ham sandwiches, neatly packed in a bamboo basket. The more he looked, the more it felt wrong—were they going on a picnic?

Before driving, Ji Chenjiao took a bite—annoyed—but to his surprise, the sandwich was delicious.

Because he held himself to high standards, he sometimes made his own whole-wheat beef or chicken breast sandwiches—not particularly tasty, but edible. Now with this comparison—his own food felt like cattle feed.

He glanced sideways at Ling Lie, who was also munching on a sandwich. “Hmm?”

“Nothing.” Ji Chenjiao turned back to the road—but in his mind, two voices clashed endlessly.

—Ling Lie is so annoying!

—But Ling Lie cooks really well!

—Ling Lie is so annoying!

—But Ling Lie can help you solve cases!

—Ling Lie is so annoying!

—But Ling Lie is good-looking!

“Tsk!” Ji Chenjiao shook off these chaotic thoughts. What’s the use of being good-looking? Am I that shallow?

The prison was located in a county, far from the main city of Xiarong. Thanks to Ling Lie’s morning racket, they left early enough to avoid traffic—but even so, it was past 10 a.m. when they arrived.

Ling Lie contentedly rubbed his stomach. “Burp—”

Ji Chenjiao stared at him—the damn guy really did think this was a picnic. The bamboo basket was already empty!

During the past anti-crime campaign, dozens from the Kang family and their affiliated gang were sentenced. Three received the death penalty—Kang Wanbin’s two elder brothers and his second uncle. His father, Kang Junlin, got life imprisonment due to lesser crimes, serving time here with other heavy offenders. The lightly sentenced were sent to other prisons, and some were already released—Chen Jing had checked on them.

When the guards heard that Ji Chenjiao came because of the infamous Fengyi Villa case, they immediately called Kang Junlin and others.

Since the district branch had already questioned him, Kang Junlin knew his most successful son was dead. Back during the anti-crime campaign, Kang Wanbin had even helped the authorities, essentially betraying his family—at the time, Kang Junlin hated him to the bone and often threatened to kill him. But perhaps years of reform changed him—or maybe blood really was thicker than water—his eyes reddened as he sighed, “I failed to raise him properly. Whatever I did, they all learned from me.”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t come with a clear goal today—he simply wanted to hear what Kang Wanbin’s elders had to say about what kind of person he had been as a child and young man.

“He was young, not like his brothers and sisters who loved to fight. He’d lock himself in his room, reading useless books. He was short, bullied by the older ones—thrown to the ground and kicked around. I never interfered. That was our family’s way—wolfish, survival of the fittest. If you couldn’t fight back, you were trash, unfit to inherit the business.”

“But in the end, he proved he wasn’t trash at all. He was smarter than all of us. He never showed his hatred, but he remembered every bit of what his brothers and sisters did—and paid it back double, to all of us.”

Kang Junlin gave a dry laugh. “Growing up in a family like ours… how could he turn out normal? I killed, tortured people—he saw it all and learned cruelty from the start.”

Kang Junlin knew his son’s true nature well—but because the Kang family empire grew so fast, he hadn’t spent much time with Kang Wanbin. He couldn’t describe exactly what his son had done.

Ji Chenjiao also spoke to some of Kang Wanbin’s elder brothers and uncles. One was only two years older than Kang Wanbin—and was one of the few who’d “played” with him. But even he admitted he only did so because he himself was often bullied by the older siblings—and needed someone even weaker to feel superior.

“Kang Wanbin was actually just like me. The stronger ones bullied me, and I ordered around the weakest—Kang Wanbin. He was the most miserable in our family, but in the whole Tongqie County, he could totally throw his Kang family name around and do as he pleased.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Have you ever seen him bully others?”

“Of course. More than once. Tongqie County sits beside the Tongqie River, so there’s plenty of river seafood. Most of the aquatic products in your main city area come from us. There are several seafood markets in the county, all controlled by our family. He liked going there to mess with the fish and shrimp vendors. But not many people know about this, because he was discreet, and people feared him—they didn’t dare speak out.”

This was a clue that hadn’t appeared before, and in Ji Chenjiao’s understanding, Tongqie County wasn’t exactly famous for its river seafood. But then he thought—since the aquatic products business belonged to the Kang family, their downfall must have affected the industry. After the Kang family was taken down, the people of Tongqie, long suffering under their oppression, probably no longer wanted anything to do with that business. The county’s best-known products now were sauces and pickled vegetables.

Aquatic products… crayfish… the clues finally seemed to connect.

Kang Wanbin hadn’t emerged unstained from the murky Kang family—he had done evil in Tongqie County too!

After leaving the prison, Ji Chenjiao had Ling Lie drive straight to Tongqie County while he browsed online reactions to the Kang Wanbin case on his tablet.

As the case fermented, public attention shifted from the crayfish party, the Wanbin Laihe game, influencers, and hosts to the capital that Kang Wanbin represented. Social media had already started digging into Kang Wanbin’s rise—some praised him for not following the Kang family’s corrupt ways, while others cursed him for betraying even his own parents, calling him an ungrateful white-eyed wolf by nature.

Among all the voices, Ji Chenjiao noticed a familiar name—Jaco. In his latest video, Jaco was already in Tongqie County, interviewing people who had paid protection fees to the Kang family or had been forced or voluntarily worked for them. But from the responses, it seemed that while they had plenty to say about the Kang family, their understanding of Kang Wanbin was as superficial as everyone else’s—youngest child of the Kang family, studied abroad, sent his own family to prison, and now a rich businessman.

At the end of the video, Jaco had solemnly stated that while he hadn’t found concrete evidence yet, he had a gut feeling that Kang Wanbin had secrets in this small town too.

“Because one’s hometown is the deepest imprint on a person, and bloodline is a shackle that cannot be escaped!”

Ji Chenjiao put down the tablet and looked at the straight highway ahead, Jaco’s words echoing in his ears. Maybe because he had just discussed bloodlines with Ling Lie yesterday—words like blood, prayer, curse—kept circling in his mind.

The teachers and caregivers at Lily Fragrance had thought he was one of the rare good-tempered children—many of the kids there, abandoned by their families, had personality flaws of one kind or another: always grabbing others’ things, or too timid and bullied all the time.

But he had never bullied the weak, nor had he been self-abasing; sometimes he even protected the weak.

Yet he knew very well that dark desires would often well up inside him—even as a child, he had been able to restrain these urges.

He didn’t know who his biological parents were—maybe his adoptive parents’ upbringing shaped him into who he was today. He had never cared about who gave birth to him, or why they abandoned him. Now DNA testing was advanced enough, but he’d never wanted to look for them. First, because his adoptive parents might get hurt; second, because he felt indifferent toward blood ties.

But at this moment, he found himself wanting to know what kind of people his birth parents were—whether the dark thoughts that had surfaced in him as a child were inherited through blood.

If so, then as Ling Lie summed up—it was a curse.

Ling Lie drove much like Shen Qi—fast and wild. But while Ji Chenjiao wouldn’t let Shen Qi drive like this, sitting in the passenger seat beside Ling Lie, lost in thought, he didn’t bother to remind him. By the time he noticed Ling Lie was speeding, they were already nearing Tongqie County.

After exiting the highway, Ling Lie slowed down. It was already past 4 PM, almost evening.

Back in the day, because of the Kang family, Tongqie County was seen by the people of Xiayong City’s counties and villages as a den of tigers and dragons—go in with flesh, come out with just bones. Even now, many still had a bad impression of Tongqie County. Ji Chenjiao knew the economy here was struggling—the most vibrant people were either imprisoned because of the Kang family or had fled far away to escape their oppression.

“Captain Ji, I’m hungry. I want to eat,” Ling Lie stopped the car and earnestly translated the grumbling of his stomach for Ji Chenjiao.

They had been running around all day; the morning’s sandwich was long gone. Ji Chenjiao was planning to find a place to fill their stomachs anyway.

Tongqie County was small and poor. Even in broad daylight, the county center was nearly deserted, the shops along the street mostly shuttered with no business to do.

Ling Lie circled a few streets, then suddenly said, “What are those people watching?”

Ji Chenjiao looked over too. A crowd had gathered—seemed like a vegetable market.

“Shall we take a look?”

“Let’s go.”

Ling Lie parked by the roadside and jumped out fast—Ji Chenjiao still locked the car. He was about to tell Ling Lie not to rush when he saw that, at the center of the crowd, stood Jaco.

Ji Chenjiao’s gaze darkened slightly as he walked over.

Jaco and his team were doing a livestream. Ji Chenjiao opened the app as he walked.

“After three days of exploring, Jaco finally figured Tongqie County out! Look, this is just a small vegetable market now—sun’s about to set, not much left to sell. Jaco was here this morning too—lots of people, good business, but he didn’t want filming to disturb their lives, so he waited till now…”

“But compared to before, even the morning crowd has thinned. Jaco asked the farmers—they said this used to be Tongqie County’s largest seafood wholesale market. The river fish you used to eat as a kid probably came from here!”

“Crayfish? Yes, someone mentioned crayfish. Jaco checked—Tongqie County used to farm and sell crayfish, loaches, and eels. But the Kang family monopolized this business for years. After they went down, the seafood industry collapsed too.”

As Ji Chenjiao squeezed into the crowd, he heard Ling Lie shout loudly, “So Kang Wanbin’s death at the crayfish party is actually related to the crayfish industry in his hometown?!”

Many people were interacting with Jaco. Just as he was about to respond, he suddenly locked eyes with Ling Lie. His expression froze for a moment. Ling Lie waved, “Hey there!”

Jaco smiled and smoothly continued talking about crayfish, but soon he spotted Ji Chenjiao. This time his reaction was more natural. “Ah! Guess who I ran into? Sorry, can’t turn the camera—but Jaco just ran into city police detectives. They must be investigating Kang Wanbin too! Looks like Jaco was a step ahead, huh?”

The camera never turned toward Ji Chenjiao and Ling Lie, but the crowd glanced at them. Ling Lie greeted everyone with such enthusiasm his hand nearly left an afterimage. Ji Chenjiao dragged him away and sat him down at a braised chicken rice place. Ling Lie kept glancing toward the excitement while Ji Chenjiao watched Jaco’s channel.

The comments flew fast—everyone guessing wildly. The keyword that kept popping up: crayfish. People had discussed crayfish before, but only about how rich Kang Wanbin was and how luxury crayfish parties meant real freedom. Now the focus had shifted—his death might actually be tied to crayfish and Tongqie County’s once-thriving crayfish business.

The livestream ended. Ji Chenjiao looked toward Jaco again. Ling Lie suddenly said, “That little Jaco—smarter than you?”

Ji Chenjiao: “Hm?”

“He’s not a cop, has fewer clues than us—so how come he seems to know everything?” Ling Lie poked at his braised chicken. “Why’d he think of crayfish before we did?”