Until Shen Kuo left the police station, he couldn’t stop thanking Meng Jin, almost as if he was worried Meng Jin wouldn’t keep his promise—almost to the point of kneeling.
Shen Kuo called two of his roommates and arranged to meet at a coffee shop, mentioning only that they had something to discuss, carefully avoiding the word “police.”
Meng Jin knew he couldn’t use the police car for this, so he decided to use his own vehicle—a regular domestic brand car.
Shen Kuo stood still, showing no intention of getting in, and pointed at a nearby Audi. “Can we take this one instead?”
It took Meng Jin a moment to understand the implication. He realized that Shen Kuo, dressed in branded clothes from head to toe, was snubbing the domestic car, deeming it beneath his designer-clad stature.
Only then did Meng Jin notice that Shen Kuo was decked out in designer gear, even sporting the latest model smartphone. It seemed he hadn’t refrained from milking Liu Tianshi for money.
Begrudgingly using a domestic car seemed petty to Meng Jin, who couldn’t grasp when such a gap had formed between him and the younger generation.
The Audi belonged to Zhao Yunzhi. Meng Jin reached for his phone to find it missing and remembered that it was still with Zhao Yunzhi.
Just as he was about to retrieve it, Zhao Yunzhi approached with a bright smile, “Team Meng, you should commend me. I’ve managed to deal with your classmate.”
“What have you managed exactly?”
Realizing Shen Kuo was still nearby, Meng Jin waved Zhao Yunzhi off, asking him to wait until after they’d dropped off Shen Kuo at the café.
Eager to boast, Zhao Yunzhi held off until they reached the coffee shop where Shen Kuo’s roommates hadn’t yet arrived. After ordering coffee for Shen Kuo, he and Meng Jin returned to the car.
“Team Meng, Andy agreed to give us the blood samples.”
It took Meng Jin a second to recall who Andy was—Andy was Long De. Surprised, he asked, “How did that happen?”
He checked his WeChat and saw a record of a video call that lasted several minutes.
“You talked to him? How did he agree?”
Zhao Yunzhi was animated, “I just mentioned it and he agreed immediately. He’s not as cold and ruthless as you described. He even said he’d send the samples today; they should arrive in a week or ten days at most.”
“That’s impossible. Did you agree to any conditions for him? I was his classmate for three years—we may not have been close friends, but we were acquaintances. You don’t even know him. Why would he agree to help you?” Meng Jin looked into Zhao Yunzhi’s eyes, trying to spot any signs of deceit—eyes often betray liars.
Zhao Yunzhi seemed genuinely disappointed that Meng Jin doubted him instead of being happy, “Your classmate is actually a nice guy. You’ve demonized him. He even added me on WeChat, saying I could reach out directly to him.”
Meng Jin was baffled. Was this the same Long De he knew? The cold, ruthless, stubborn Long De?
He didn’t want to dwell too much on Long De. Failing to understand, he finally compromised, perhaps conceding that he might have indeed demonized Long De over the years or that Long De might have changed.
After Shen Kuo’s roommates arrived and were surprised to learn that police wanted to talk to them, not seeming to feign their reaction, Meng Jin and Zhao Yunzhi interviewed them separately. Their accounts were consistent, confirming Shen Kuo’s alibi.
If Liu Tianshi was indeed in the contact list (TXL), then the situation might be simple—he and Lin Kun could have been lovers or romantic partners, and for some reason, Liu Tianshi might have killed Lin Kun.
Twenty years later, the second killer might have murdered Liu Tianshi to avenge Lin Kun.
That would be a straightforward relationship dynamic.
But the case seemed more complex.
Lin Kun was killed in 2000. By then, Liu Tianshi was already married to Jennie Yang. Could they have been lovers? If so, did Jennie notice?
“Have we traced the last person to call Liu Tianshi?” Meng Jin asked.
This lead was being followed by other officers. Zhao Yunzhi contacted one, but the results were puzzling.
The number that called Liu Tianshi belonged to Cao Cao Express’s customer service, 96888. A callback connected to an automated service, which stated, “You haven’t received any packages in the last two days, cannot connect to the courier.”
Liu Tianshi’s phone, taken by the second killer, gave the same response when dialed back.
The customer service could connect to a courier only if it hadn’t been more than two days.
Officers went to Cao Cao Express for more digging. In the two areas where Liu Tianshi had connections—Meilada Town, where he lived with Jennie, and Chaoye Hideaway, where Li Zizi lived—the area managers reported no deliveries to Liu Tianshi on the day he was killed.
Couriers responsible for both areas denied calling Liu Tianshi. However, investigation showed the call to Liu Tianshi was made from a courier’s phone at Chaoye Hideaway.
This meant someone used the courier’s phone to call Liu Tianshi, likely the second killer or an accomplice.
The list of people who could access the courier’s phone was limited, and the call was made at 10:09 PM, making it seemingly straightforward to pinpoint the caller.
The courier said he had returned to the company at 9:00 PM and left his phone in the warehouse, only realizing it was missing when he got home. Too tired to return, he planned to retrieve it the next day, trusting the surveillance in the warehouse to deter thieves.
Surveillance showed the warehouse lights going off at 9:30 PM, the phone screen lighting up at 9:40 PM, someone entering the warehouse, picking up the phone, and leaving with it. The high shelves in the warehouse blocked a clear view of the person.
The courier found his phone in the warehouse the next day, unaware it had been used until the police informed him.
The poor lighting and low resolution of the surveillance footage made it impossible to identify the person. The video was handed to the technical department to enhance the resolution and possibly find clues.
Still, they had to wait.
At least they now knew the call to Liu Tianshi was made by a Cao Cao Express employee, who must be implicated, otherwise there was no need to use another’s phone.
Zhao Yunzhi arranged a meeting with Jennie Yang, confirming the time and place.
Jennie seemed unwell, coughing weakly, but was cooperative and promptly arranged the meeting.
The meeting was at a sanatorium owned by Fang Zheng Group. As they approached, Secretary Huang welcomed them at the entrance, her face always adorned with a gentle and elegant smile, just like Jennie’s.
Zhao Yunzhi rolled down the window to greet her.
Secretary Huang greeted Zhao Yunzhi and didn’t ignore Meng Jin, then asked if they minded having the car parked far in the garage, considering their special status and the possibility of sensitive documents in the car.
Zhao Yunzhi thought to himself that it was his private car, typically not used for transporting work documents. Seeing Meng Jin show no particular concern, Zhao Yunzhi cheerfully agreed.
They got out of the car, and a uniformed driver greeted them and took the car keys from Zhao Yunzhi.
A nearby convertible ferry car approached and stopped precisely in front of them, with Secretary Huang inviting them aboard.
After navigating several winding paths, they reached the deepest part of the sanatorium. The deeper they went, the more serene and picturesque the surroundings became, finally stopping in front of a small house with white walls and a blue roof, reminiscent of Greek architecture.
Entering the reception room, Jennie Yang rose to greet them, still elegantly smiling though visibly more tired than their first meeting.
Jennie inquired about any progress in the investigation.
Meng Jin explained there were new developments and some details he needed to clarify with her.
“Liu Tianshi’s sexual orientation…” Meng Jin struggled to find the right word, opting for a different approach, “I mean, was he accepting of male partners?”
Jennie’s demeanor remained unchanged, “Why would you ask that? What have you found? Or has someone spoken to you?”
Meng Jin smiled, “We investigate every detail. You just need to tell us what you know.”
“Did Li Zizi tell you?”
Meng Jin was surprised by Jennie’s acuity and nodded after a moment’s hesitation.
After a pause, Jennie nodded, “Yes. That was his private matter, Captain Meng, I hope you can keep it confidential. Not for me, but for Tianshi. He struggled hard to keep this secret, and he would have wanted to take it to his grave. If it gets out, he won’t rest in peace.”
“So, you mean Liu Tianshi never had a male partner?”
“Yes. Despite his nature, he loathed himself, restrained, and suppressed it. He was in pain,” Jennie’s face showed a slight frown, seemingly empathizing with Liu Tianshi’s suffering.
If Liu Tianshi had never had a male partner for all these years, why suddenly reach out to Shen Kuo?
This secret might only be known to Jennie, Li Zizi, and Shen Kuo, hence Jennie’s immediate guess about Li Zizi leaking the secret.
“Li Zizi mentioned that Liu Tianshi was with a classmate of hers, a boy. Did you know about this?”
“Since he’s been with Li Zizi, we haven’t been in touch often, I’m not aware of his affairs.”
“Why do you think your husband suddenly changed? You mentioned earlier he loathed himself and always restrained his nature.”
Jennie looked out the window, her eyelashes quivering, “Our son’s death hit him hard. I don’t know what he thought, but I believe our son’s passing changed him psychologically, or rather, it was a drastic change.”
She mentioned her son’s death twice, sparking Meng Jin’s curiosity, “How did your son die?”
Jennie’s eyebrows raised, her eyes shining, “He died in a car crash due to speeding off a cliff. Half a year ago, haven’t you heard?”
Should I have heard of it? Meng Jin wondered.
Zhao Yunzhi quickly explained, “Team Meng was hospitalized for a severe injury for half a year. He’s unaware of many cases.”
Cases? Meng Jin was puzzled. Was Jennie’s son involved in a criminal case?
