The suspect had likely studied Pan You’s videos—an important lead. However, while streamers must register with real names, viewers don’t. With over a hundred thousand views, identifying the suspect from viewer data was unrealistic. And if the suspect had any counter-surveillance awareness, they could easily use an IP-masking tool—something that required no real skill, just a bit of money.

Ji Chenjiao followed He Feng into the team leader’s office. Due to the widespread public attention on the case, He Feng was visibly distressed. He’d even forgotten to turn on the office water dispenser and could only offer Ji Chenjiao a cup of cold water, somewhat embarrassed.

The Major Crimes Unit often collaborated with Beicheng Police Station, and Ji Chenjiao was well-acquainted with He Feng. The older man had a solid investigative style, though slightly lacking in creative thinking.

“What’s the problem, Brother He?” Ji Chenjiao asked.

He Feng sighed. “When we took this case over from the local precinct, we didn’t think it would be hard to solve. I had my team start with the parents’ social circle and found a few people who had grudges against them.”

As He Feng spoke, Ji Chenjiao browsed the investigation files.

Zhou Lin and Fu Jiajia were a young couple from the countryside. They had suffered more hardships than most their age, dropping out of high school and coming to Xiarong City to work, taking jobs in factories and on construction sites. When a toy car company urgently needed salespeople, they volunteered for a transfer off the production line and began their careers in sales.

Now they had switched industries again—selling maternal and baby products and women’s goods.

Colleagues, supervisors, and clients all described them as frugal, hardworking, and simple people. They were the kind who took on all the unpleasant tasks that city workers avoided.

This, in turn, made some people dislike them, calling them “hick farmers” and “workaholics” behind their backs. The couple knew this but didn’t care. With two sons to raise, they were willing to bear the burden.

The police investigated every co-worker who had a conflict with the couple. Though many admitted they disliked Zhou and Fu, none confessed to kidnapping Zhou Zongyi, and all had solid alibis.

As for neighbors, the Zhou family lived in a building with eight units per floor, divided into two sides by an elevator. In modern society, most neighbors barely interact, exchanging only nods in the elevator. But after the Zhou couple brought the grandmother from the countryside to help care for the kids, they got closer to the three families on the same side. These three also had children, and two had elderly members. Every time the grandmother returned from a trip to the countryside, she brought back chickens, ducks, and fresh produce to share, fostering warm neighborhood relations.

Zhou and Fu’s social circle was small and simple, and no one came to mind as a likely enemy. The police had found no obvious grudges or disputes so far.

“We even went to their hometown and found nothing. They really are just an ordinary family,” He Feng said. “The kid’s disappearance clearly wasn’t for ransom—otherwise the kidnapper would’ve contacted them by now. Zhou Zongyi had fought with quite a few kids, and I even looked into his little social circle—just childish fights. Unlikely any adult would get involved.”

Ji Chenjiao looked up. “It’s not impossible.”

He Feng said, “That’s because you Major Crimes guys deal with too many antisocial types.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded. “Fair point.”

Cases assigned to the Major Crimes Unit usually involved something odd, eerie, or cruel. In comparison, even homicide cases handled by local stations tended to be crimes of passion or negligence. Ji Chenjiao had dealt with enough deranged suspects to know that even the smallest slight could trigger them.

Take this disappearance, for example. Would a normal adult kidnap a child over a playground scuffle? No. But the suspects Ji Chenjiao dealt with might.

“To be thorough, we also investigated the parents of those kids Zhou Zongyi fought with. Every single one had an airtight alibi. Their phone records, everything—totally normal,” He Feng said, pressing both hands on the table. “I’ve run out of leads. And here’s another weird part—whoever took the kid hasn’t made any demands or even left a message. Even if it was revenge, you’d expect some kind of statement.”

Ji Chenjiao tapped the side of his glass thoughtfully. That was indeed suspicious.

He Feng asked, “Brother  .nJi, you don’t think this case is actually connected to that suspect you’ve got?”

Ji Chenjiao chuckled. “Old He, you getting your clues from gossip forums now?”

“Ugh,” He Feng rubbed his face in frustration. “I’ve hit a wall. Sometimes you really do have to look to the masses for leads. But seriously—what’s the deal with that Ling Lie guy and his supposed hatred for kids?”

Ji Chenjiao thought: Maybe it’s some kind of alpha-kid rivalry? Ling Lie, who insisted on eating McDonald’s every few days, was practically a kid himself.

But he didn’t say that aloud. “Alright, I’ll go ask Ling Lie again. If we find anything, I’ll contact you right away.”

Ling Lie had been brought to the Major Crimes Unit on the afternoon of April 6th. The 48-hour detention window had long passed, but he refused to leave, insisting they needed to clear his name. He now hung around daily for the free food and to check up on the investigation.

Clutching Ji Chenjiao’s phone, Ling Lie skimmed the online accusations against him and said breezily, “This poor guy Ling is doomed. The internet won’t rest until I’m sentenced to death.”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

Ling Lie sighed dramatically and dabbed at the corner of his eye.

Ji Chenjiao said, “Ling Lie.”

Ling Lie perked up. “Yes, here.”

Ji Chenjiao almost laughed in frustration. “Explain the chicken wings and why you didn’t play with Zhou Zongyi.”

“Those wings were bought with my own hard-earned money. Why should I give them to some random kid?” Ling Lie replied, full of indignation. “You saw me in that girl’s outfit banging a drum, right? Hours of work for just fifty yuan. Would you have shared?”

Before Ji Chenjiao could respond, Ling Lie added, “Oh, and you stole one of my wings.”

Ji Chenjiao’s temple twitched. “That was the one I paid for.”

“Fine, next question,” Ling Lie said, utterly unfazed. “Zhou Zongyi didn’t play by the rules, so I didn’t enjoy playing with him. Doesn’t mean I hated him.”

Ji Chenjiao snorted. “You guys had rules?”

“Of course. Don’t underestimate the children of our nation.” Ling Lie mimed holding a gun, one hand shaped like a pistol, the other steadying it underneath. “Bang—”

Ji Chenjiao’s gaze suddenly darkened. Ling Lie’s gesture was precise—like he’d actually held a gun before.

“Our rule was, if you got caught, the other kid got to ‘bang’ you. But Zhou Zongyi never played fair. I’d catch him, and he’d try to ‘bang’ me instead. Lame. I stopped playing with him.”

Ji Chenjiao hadn’t come empty-handed this time—he shared some of the investigation’s progress and asked, “Technically, you were like a part-time teacher to Zhou Zongyi. The precinct should’ve looked into you too, but since you were already in my custody, you slipped through the cracks. Do you have any theories? Did you notice anyone suspicious around him?”

Ling Lie was silent for a while. Then he said, “Captain Ji, answer me something first.”

“Go ahead.”

“The precinct checked everyone with grudges or financial conflicts with Zhou Zongyi’s parents, right? And ruled them all out?”

“Yes.”

“The neighbors were ruled out as suspects too?”

“Mm.”

Ling Lie leaned forward. “Which neighbors, exactly?”

Ji Chenjiao: “Hm?”

Ling Lie: “You just said the sub-bureau talked to the neighbors the Zhou family knew. These people weren’t suspects and couldn’t identify any suspects either. But what about the ones the Zhou family didn’t know?”

The sub-bureau had done a sweep of the entire apartment complex, but of course focused on the neighbors the Zhou family was familiar with. Ji Chenjiao said, “Sounds like you’ve got a lead.”

Ling Lie smiled. “Zhou Zongyi liked sports. Whenever they had basketball dribbling contests, he always came in first. A lot of little boys looked up to him and learned from him.”

Ji Chenjiao had seen that in the sub-bureau’s report—Zhou Zongyi was a real “slam dunk king” among his peers.

“One time, I overheard a bunch of kids chatting. One of them asked Zhou Zongyi why he was so good at dribbling. Let me explain: they’re too young to play full games, so they mostly just compete by seeing who can dribble the most, shoot the best—there’s almost no real offense or defense.” Ling Lie stood up and mimed dribbling. “Guess what Zhou Zongyi said?”

Ji Chenjiao: “More practice?”

“Exactly. He practiced even after school.”

That didn’t seem unusual. Ji Chenjiao frowned slightly as he watched Ling Lie.

Ling Lie continued, “Every day after school, it was always his grandma who came to pick him up. A wrinkled old lady—very friendly, loved to chat with everyone. She said her son and daughter-in-law were too busy with work and didn’t get home until late, so she had to rush back to make dinner for the two grandkids.”

Ji Chenjiao picked up on it. “The only person watching the kids was an elderly woman, and once she got home, she was busy cooking and doing chores—she didn’t have time to accompany the child to play outside.”

Ling Lie: “Exactly. It’s possible she was just negligent and let a six-year-old go out and play alone. But what if she didn’t? Where was Zhou Zongyi practicing his dribbling?”

Ji Chenjiao: “The people living directly below were being driven crazy!”

“People on the same floor wouldn’t mind—might even think the Zhou family was generous and warm—but the folks downstairs could’ve hated them for ages.” Ling Lie sat back down. “But this is just a guess.”

Ji Chenjiao immediately contacted He Feng. After hanging up, he remembered seeing a human-interest piece while reading Li Aijie’s reports. He pulled it up and read it carefully, finding that the negative comments far outweighed the positive ones.

Li Aijie had interviewed a few families who liked to leave their doors open and let the neighborhood kids play together in the hallway after finishing homework—playing games, dancing, like the old days. Her original intention was probably to capitalize on the current wave of nostalgia. But it backfired. The article triggered a strong backlash, with many commenters complaining about noisy upstairs neighbors.

Dribbling makes a rhythmic, repetitive sound. If Zhou Zongyi really practiced at home every day, someone sensitive to noise living below could’ve been driven mad.

The sub-bureau reopened the investigation based on this lead. Zhou Lin and Fu Jiajia had no idea their son was dribbling at home. By the time they got back from work, both kids were usually already asleep.

Zhou Lin’s elderly mother tearfully admitted she didn’t have time to take her grandson downstairs to play. At first, he dribbled inside the home. Someone from downstairs came up once to complain, so she told him to go play in the elevator hallway instead.

But when the detectives questioned the people living directly downstairs, they said they had never heard any dribbling noises and certainly never went upstairs to complain.

It wasn’t until both sides were brought face-to-face that the truth came out—the previous downstairs residents had moved away due to work. The current tenants had only moved in three months ago. Zhou Zongyi had been playing in the hallway since last year.

Fu Jiajia couldn’t understand. “There’s no way the downstairs neighbors would hurt Zongyi over this. We don’t even play at home anymore. It’s a hallway—who can even hear anything there?”

The forensic technician said, “The sound of dribbling doesn’t necessarily travel straight down to the hallway. Building acoustics can cause it to bounce or shift. For example, you might think it’s your upstairs neighbor doing renovations, but really, it could be your upstairs neighbor’s neighbor—or even someone two floors up.”

And right next door to the apartment below the Zhous lived a single mother whose child was about to take the high school entrance exam.