Midway through, Long De received a call and walked out of view to the other side of the room to answer it, speaking fluent, standard English, as if it were his native language.
Meng Jin couldn’t understand a single word and thought to himself, “Turns out his English is also at triple speed. If we want him to slow down, we might have to make him learn a whole new language. German? Arabic? Those are said to be the hardest. Let’s see if he can still talk that fast.”
He admitted he was both envious and jealous. These are the most normal human emotions, and as long as they’re kept within a reasonable range, they won’t cause any disasters.
While Long De was away, Meng Jin took the opportunity to carefully examine the room on the screen. It was typical American-style decor, just like in the TV shows—an oversized wooden desk, a chair, and behind it, a bookshelf filled with what looked like certificates or awards. The text was too small to read, even when he moved closer to the screen. Even then, he couldn’t make it out.
“Did you fall asleep?”
Long De’s voice suddenly boomed in his ear.
Startled, Meng Jin quickly sat upright.
Earlier, when he leaned in toward the screen, all Long De could see was the top of his head, so he mistakenly thought Meng Jin had dozed off.
Meng Jin played along and mumbled, “Uh-huh.”
There was no way he could sleep—he’d probably have trouble sleeping tonight too.
They discussed a few more details, including the method of wrapping with plastic wrap. The technique used by Killer One was very clean and efficient, as if he had professional training. It seemed likely that Killer One and Killer Two had worked in the same place at some point.
By the time the video call ended, two hours had passed. Meng Jin still felt dazed, like he was in a dream. It wasn’t until Zhao Yunzhi knocked on the door and entered that he truly realized he was not dreaming.
Meng Jin relayed the key points of his conversation with Long De to Zhao Yunzhi, instructing him to organize the information and inform the case team members.
Zhao Yunzhi had become highly interested in Long De. The information Long De provided was like a timely rain, opening up several new leads in the case.
“Is your old classmate a cop too? American police, right? Is it just like in the TV shows, where they carry guns everywhere and can shoot as soon as someone resists?” Zhao Yunzhi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, clearly fascinated.
Meng Jin hadn’t yet figured out how Long De got involved with the case, and he hadn’t had the chance—or the nerve—to ask. But he couldn’t tell the truth; otherwise, chatterbox Zhao would ask more questions, like, “Aren’t you two classmates? Don’t you usually stay in touch?” He wouldn’t know how to explain.
“Does this have anything to do with you? Instead of worrying about other people, how about you think about our next move?” Meng Jin snapped.
Zhao Yunzhi gave an awkward smile. “Boss Meng, I’ve already thought about it. We can investigate from two angles. First, we need to look into Lin Kun. Killer Two is definitely connected to Lin Kun. Not just possibly—definitely. Killer Two must know Lin Kun. Second, we should figure out what connection Lin Kun had with Liu Tianshi. The fact that Killer Two mimicked the Lin Kun case means Liu Tianshi must have some link to it. Who knows? Maybe Liu Tianshi is Killer One. Oh, right, wasn’t there a drop of blood on Lin Kun’s body? Was it from a man or a woman?”
“It was from a woman,” Meng Jin replied. “The killer was likely a woman. Or, it’s possible that Liu Tianshi was the killer, and the woman was an accomplice.”
“The blood on Liu Tianshi’s body was from a man. Killer Two is most likely a man.”
Why would Killer Two mimic Killer One’s method? Was it simple revenge, or was he trying to send a message? And to whom? It could only be to Killer One or the accomplice, meaning that, after more than twenty years, Killer One or the accomplice is still alive.
That woman from Lin Kun’s case is key.
Just then, Dr. Jin called. She had found traces of cotton swabs in the blood, which meant that Killer Two had applied the blood on purpose, or perhaps dipped a cotton swab in blood and placed it behind the victim’s ear, letting it drip.
The killer had gone to such lengths to imitate the Lin Kun case that even the placement of the blood drop had to be exact.
At 5 p.m., for Meng Jin, the idea of “getting off work” barely existed. As long as there was work to do, he’d forget to go home.
Though Zhao Yunzhi had only been here for a few months, he always left right on time unless there was an emergency. But today, in an unusual turn, he lingered until everyone else had left before walking into Meng Jin’s office.
“Boss Meng, my cousin said she wants to invite you to dinner and apologize. Do you think you could give her a chance?”
“No need,” Meng Jin rejected flatly.
“My cousin is pretty generous when treating guests, and you can pick the place. You don’t have to feel bad about it. It was her fault, after all. You deserve a meal on her dime.” Zhao Yunzhi’s hair was neatly combed, and he had already changed into his casual clothes. Trendy, fashionable, dressed like a fashion model. Anyone who didn’t know him would never guess he was a criminal investigator.
“I’m not going. And you’re not going either.”
Zhao Yunzhi’s smile froze on his face. “I was planning to eat more for your sake, to help vent your anger.”
“Your cousin is too cunning. This could be a trap, a ploy to fish for information,” Meng Jin scoffed. “You think you’re going to get something out of it, but actually, you’re the one being taken advantage of.”
Since Zhao wasn’t that close with Meng Jin yet, he didn’t dare push back too hard. He sulked and left.
Shortly after, Meng Jin could hear Zhao on the phone, probably reporting to his cousin.
Meng Jin stared at Long De’s WeChat, debating whether to tell him about the cotton swab traces found in the blood behind Liu Tianshi’s ear.
Long De’s WeChat username was in English—Andy.
He had been using this name since high school. Meng Jin remembered that during an English class, Long De had introduced himself in English. He chose the name Andy because he liked the movie The Shawshank Redemption, and the protagonist’s name was Andy. The name reminded him never to give up.
After ten years, had his former rival reached his ideal destination?
Meng Jin chuckled to himself, thinking that maybe Long De never saw him as a rival at all, given that Meng Jin had never once surpassed him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a call—it was Tang Xiaoguo.
His mind hadn’t fully returned to the present, so his first reaction was that Zhao’s cousin was calling to personally invite him after being rejected. His second thought dismissed that because Zhao’s cousin didn’t know his number.
It must be the matchmaker calling.
Sure enough, Tang Xiaoguo first apologized for missing their appointment that morning, then expressed that she still wanted to get to know him better. “How about we have dinner tonight?”
“No need, Miss Tang. We’re not suitable for each other. Let’s not stay in touch,” Meng Jin said in one breath, hanging up before she had a chance to respond.
He kept it short and to the point because he was worried she might recognize his voice. If she realized that her blind date was actually her cousin’s boss, things would get messy.
After setting down his phone, he looked up to see Zhao Yunzhi smiling brightly at him. “Boss Meng, my cousin said she’s going to a blind date now. I have no other plans, so I’ll stay and work overtime with you.”
No enthusiasm, no passion, and not a trace of sincerity.
“Alright then,” Meng Jin smiled. “Why don’t you gather and organize all the information on the Lin Kun case?”
Just as he finished speaking, Zhao’s phone beeped twice. He glanced down, frowned, then rolled his eyes and looked at Meng Jin. “Uh, sorry Boss Meng. My cousin says she’s canceled her blind date and wants me to represent you at dinner. She sincerely wants to apologize.”
Meng Jin shifted in his chair, leaning back with a cold expression. Zhao could sense the sudden change in the atmosphere and didn’t dare say anything more.
“Zhao Yunzhi, until this case is solved, you are not to see your cousin again. If there’s another leak in the investigation, can you handle the consequences?” Meng Jin’s tone was severe. “Don’t think that just because her last article helped us, you can relax. There are plenty of cases where leaks let criminals escape justice—you can go look it up.”
Normally, Meng Jin was serious but approachable. This time, though, the reprimand hit hard. As a newcomer, Zhao was shaken. He quietly returned to his desk and buried himself in work.
Meng Jin searched online for “viral American red maple tree” and found many related videos.
It started with two women in their fifties or sixties filming a video under a red maple tree, which unexpectedly went viral—not because of the tree but due to the women’s funny actions and expressions.
The video inspired countless imitations. At first, people just found any random tree, but soon the competition became intense. People started going out of their way to find red maple trees for their videos, even copying the exact movements and expressions.
Somewhere along the line, a video became the tipping point, and red maple trees inexplicably became a hit. Influencers began filming romantic and aesthetic videos with red maple trees as the backdrop, and even a magazine cover featuring a famous actress shot under a red maple tree boosted its popularity.
This was two years ago. While the red maple craze has since died down, the trees are still well-known, and tourists continue to seek them out.
Killer Two’s choice to bury the body under a red maple tree was deliberate. If he had known about the tree two years ago, why didn’t he act then? Or maybe, at that time, he had no motive to kill.
But if there was no motive two years ago, why mimic a murder from over twenty years ago? It didn’t make sense.
Meng Jin’s gaze landed on Long De’s WeChat profile picture—a cartoon of a boy with blonde hair and black eyes. Neither fully Western nor fully Asian. He imagined Long De with a head of golden hair, and it seemed like a visual disaster.
“Boss Meng, what are you smiling about? Did you make a new discovery?” Zhao Yunzhi, smiling with his round eyes, looked cheerfully at Meng Jin.
When did this kid come in? Meng Jin hadn’t even noticed, and he’d been smiling out loud?
“Do you need something?” Meng Jin changed the topic.
Zhao Yunzhi said, “I’ve pulled Liu Tianshi’s call records. The last call was from a courier—CaoCao Express. It was a virtual number. I contacted their customer service, and they gave me the area manager’s number so we can follow up.”
“Did Li Zizi say Liu Tianshi left to meet someone? Were there any suspicious calls in the records?”
“On the day of the murder, there were a dozen or so calls. I called them all, and they were either business partners or friends. They all said they hadn’t arranged to meet Liu Tianshi. Someone’s definitely lying.” Zhao Yunzhi sat on the sofa across from Meng Jin, opened a bottle of iced tea, and took a sip.
Meng Jin nodded. “It’s also possible they communicated through WeChat. Killer Two took Liu Tianshi’s phone—maybe he didn’t want us to know who Liu Tianshi was meeting.”
