As Meng Jin and Zhao Yunzhi drove toward Fangzheng Group, Meng Jin noticed through the rearview mirror that they were being followed.
A Wuling Hongguang, small and nimble, was weaving through traffic, trailing their police car at a distance of thirty to fifty meters. Whenever the distance exceeded fifty meters, it would speed up and even cross lanes to catch up. Had it behaved normally, Meng Jin wouldn’t have easily noticed this tail.
Meng Jin pulled a small binocular from the glove compartment and aimed it at the rearview mirror. The image was blurry, but he could still make out the driver—it was his blind date, Tang Xiaoguo.
What is she up to? Meng Jin wasn’t vain enough to think that Tang Xiaoguo had fallen for him at first sight. The only possible reason must be that she was digging for information. She really was a dedicated journalist.
“So, what kind of relative is Tang Xiaoguo to you? Cousin or classmate?” Meng Jin asked.
The question came out of nowhere, and Zhao, who was driving, was caught off guard. He answered without much thought, “She’s my cousin.”
Zhao was confused as to why Meng Jin suddenly asked about his cousin. Could it be that his boss was interested in her?
While Zhao was contemplating whether to play matchmaker, Meng Jin, reading his mind, said coldly, “Don’t get the wrong idea. Your cousin seems to be following us. Either you lose her, or you talk her out of it. Whoever causes trouble takes responsibility for fixing it.”
Zhao glanced in the rearview mirror and grimaced apologetically at Meng Jin. He quickly dialed Tang Xiaoguo’s number.
“Sis, are you following us?… Don’t follow, the victim’s information is confidential… No, I’m not telling you anything… Please, I’m begging you. You’re making things difficult for me… If you keep this up, I’ll tell Grandma! I’ll treat you to dinner later, okay?”
Despite Zhao’s pleading, it didn’t seem to be working.
Meng Jin extended his hand, gesturing for the phone. Zhao, still puzzled, handed it over.
In a stern tone, Meng Jin said, “Hello, I’m Meng Jin, Zhao Yunzhi’s captain. If you continue to follow us, I guarantee Zhao will lose his job because of you. If you don’t care, feel free to keep following.”
He hung up decisively, not giving her a chance to respond.
Zhao stood there dumbfounded, frozen as if his pressure points had been hit. He only snapped back to reality when Meng Jin placed the phone back into his outstretched hand.
Quick, ruthless, and precise.
The Wuling Hongguang veered off onto a side road and disappeared from view.
Zhao finally reacted, asking, “Captain, how did you know my cousin’s name is Tang Xiaoguo?”
“…You told me,” Meng Jin replied calmly, completely unfazed.
“Did I really?” Zhao asked, still unsure.
“You did,” Meng Jin affirmed with conviction.
When they arrived at Fangzheng Group, the sight of police uniforms made the receptionist act swiftly, immediately calling the chairman’s wife. Meng Jin and Zhao were personally escorted by the receptionist through a private corridor reportedly used only by the chairman and his wife, up to the top floor of the building.
They were led into a reception room, where a graceful woman greeted them. Initially, they thought she was Liu Tianshi’s wife, but she introduced herself as Secretary Yang.
Yang Jennie, Liu Tianshi’s wife, was also one of the board members at Fangzheng Group. There were rumors that Jennie Yang was the true power behind the company.
Liu Tianshi had been dead for three days, and no one had reported it. The company was still running smoothly. Not only did Liu seem to have no real authority, but it was as if his presence barely mattered.
The relationship between Liu and Jennie was also clearly strained. Her husband had been murdered three days ago, and she hadn’t even noticed. It was bizarre.
“Apologies, Chairwoman Yang is currently in an important meeting. If you have any matters, you can relay them to me, and I’ll pass them along,” Secretary Yang said with a professional smile. Her smile seemed meticulously practiced, always maintaining the same perfect curve.
Zhao was about to speak when Meng Jin stepped on his foot and sternly said, “This concerns a criminal investigation and cannot be disclosed. Please ask Mrs. Yang to come out immediately, or we’ll have no choice but to request her cooperation at the police station.”
His serious tone left no room for doubt.
The secretary quickly realized the gravity of the situation. Her professional smile stiffened as she rushed off to fetch Jennie Yang from the meeting.
As soon as the secretary left, Zhao whispered, “Captain, why did you stop me from speaking? Her husband’s been dead for three days, and she’s still holding meetings? What kind of wife is that?”
Zhao’s indignation was the result of youth and inexperience. Meng Jin figured Zhao must have grown up in a loving family, where couples cared for each other and stayed close, which he believed was normal.
But in reality, distant and calculating relationships were more common than one might think. Some couples were colder to each other than strangers, and cases of spouses killing each other were far from rare.
Meng Jin didn’t feel the need to lecture him. Once Zhao had worked in the detective unit for a few more years, he would learn from the various cases.
“Do you know who killed Wu Dalang?” Meng Jin asked.
“Pan Jinlian, of course.”
“Now do you get it?”
Zhao suddenly understood. “I get it. You’re suggesting that Jennie Yang is a suspect, and her cool demeanor is just an act.”
“We’ll know soon enough. Watch her reactions carefully.”
Just as he finished speaking, the door opened, and a middle-aged woman dressed in a red business suit walked in. Her high heels clicked confidently on the floor, her head held high, and her sharp eyes exuded an imposing aura. The secretary followed behind her, looking more like a servant.
Jennie Yang motioned for the secretary to stay back. After she closed the door, the secretary left.
“Officers, I’m Jennie Yang. What brings you here?” she asked, completely composed, as if she were greeting business partners rather than police officers.
Meng Jin flashed his badge and got straight to the point, “Do you know that your husband is in trouble?”
A hint of surprise flickered in Jennie’s eyes. “Trouble?”
Zhao watched closely for her reaction. Aside from surprise, there was no trace of concern.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Meng Jin asked.
“I can’t remember. There’s too much going on with the company, and I don’t have the mental capacity to remember such trivial matters. Apologies.” Her face remained expressionless, and there was even a touch of impatience in her tone.
Meng Jin waited for her to ask what had happened to Liu Tianshi, but instead, she stared at him, waiting for his response.
When Meng Jin didn’t speak, Jennie finally asked, “What happened to him?”
“He’s dead.”
Jennie paused for a few seconds, her expression becoming grave, with perhaps a hint of tension.
Zhao observed her reaction carefully. It seemed normal, yet something about it felt off.
“How did he die? When?” Jennie asked calmly. In just a few seconds, she seemed to have accepted her husband’s death, as if she had long expected something to happen to him.
“He was murdered. His body was found in Jiangnan Park, across from Jiangnan Oasis Community. The forensic team estimates he’s been dead for about three days,” Meng Jin said.
Jennie showed little reaction, as if she were hearing a boring report from a subordinate. After a while, she finally asked, “Do you need me to identify the body?”
“Yes.”
Meng Jin had encountered many grieving family members over the years. Some wept, some screamed, some fainted in disbelief, and some even seemed happy. But Jennie’s cold, almost emotionless response was something he had never seen before.
When Jennie saw that they weren’t immediately leaving, she invited them to sit, taking a seat opposite them. She sat with perfect posture—her back straight, legs crossed to the side, the epitome of elegance and poise.
“Officers, if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I’ll answer everything to the best of my ability,” she said humbly, her polite tone in stark contrast to the commanding presence she exuded earlier.
Meng Jin had encountered a few so-called “upper-class” people in his line of work, and all of them had a certain air of arrogance. Even when they were being polite, their demeanor and actions betrayed their innate sense of superiority.
He asked bluntly, “Pardon my intrusion, but how was your relationship with your husband?”
“As you can see, my husband was killed three days ago, and I, his wife, didn’t even know. You could say our relationship was just a formality. If it weren’t for Fangzheng Group, we probably would’ve divorced by now.” Jennie expertly made three cups of instant coffee, personally handing them to Meng Jin and Zhao. Despite being the chairwoman of a billion-dollar company, she showed no airs of superiority.
“Did Liu Tianshi not live with you? Where did he stay?”
“He was probably living with his mistress. As for which property they were in, I’m not sure. You can contact his mistress for that.”
Just as Meng Jin was about to ask who this mistress was, Jennie went to the door and called the secretary back in, instructing her to give the officers the mistress’s name and contact information.
After the secretary provided the name and phone number, she left.
Meng Jin appreciated suspects like Jennie, who offered valuable information without much prompting. It saved time and effort.
She seemed indifferent to the existence of the mistress, though this might have been a deliberate smokescreen. Affairs were a common motive for murder.
“Forgive my boldness, but is your estrangement from your husband because of the mistress?” Meng Jin asked carefully, choosing his words.
Jennie sipped her coffee, pondering her response. “You could say that.”
“What do you mean by that? Excuse me, but it seems like you don’t care much about your husband having a mistress.”
“You could say that.”
“If you don’t care, then the reason for your estranged relationship wasn’t because of the mistress, was it?”
Jennie put down her coffee cup and answered, “My husband wanted to have another child. But I’m older now and can no longer bear children, so he found a younger woman to have a child for him. That girl, to him, is nothing more than a tool for reproduction. Besides, I couldn’t stop him even if I tried. What can I do other than not care?” She smiled bitterly, the corners of her lips curling upward slightly.
Zhao thought to himself, “The world of the rich is truly different. Jennie Yang is really tolerant of her husband’s mistress.”
Just then, Meng Jin’s phone rang—it was Dr. Jin, the forensic pathologist.
“Sorry, I need to take this call,” Meng Jin said, excusing himself to the corner of the room.
Dr. Jin rarely called unless there was an important discovery.
“Captain Meng, there’s a drop of blood behind the victim’s ear. It likely belongs to the killer,” Dr. Jin said.
