Li’s mother, Xiang Qinling, Li Xiaoyi, and some relatives and friends were searching separately for the missing Li Zhongheng.

Li Xiaoyi’s voice sounded weary and dejected: “Weiyi, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Li Weiyi’s eyes reddened as she listened. Back when such a major incident happened in their family, her mother and sister wouldn’t let her share any of the burden no matter what.

Zhang Jingchan answered: “It’s break time. What’s the situation?”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Uncle Ding from the Criminal Investigation Unit has been leading people in the search. Mom and I are also searching—we’ll definitely find him… Dad is such an honest person, he doesn’t have any enemies. Maybe he had something urgent and forgot to tell us…” As Li Xiaoyi spoke, her own voice choked up.

Zhang Jingchan asked: “Where’s Zhong Yi?”

“He’s right beside me. He’s been helping these past few days. Do you want to talk to him?”

“No need. What about Zhou Zhihao?”

Li Xiaoyi was silent for a few seconds, her tone self-mocking: “Who knows? He came to make a scene a few times in the past few days. Now, probably afraid of trouble, he’s staying away. Let’s not talk about him.”

Li Weiyi on the side thought coldly that Zhou Zhihao probably had his own backyard on fire and couldn’t spare the attention. But with such a major incident happening to the Li family and him not even showing his face, it revealed his true character.

Zhang Jingchan asked about the police’s specific progress, which made Li Weiyi’s heart sink straight down. Ding Chenmo was very responsible and took this case seriously, leading his team to search every possible place and person, but came up empty-handed. No one knew why Li Zhongheng’s whereabouts that night were so strange—even Xiang Qinling was completely confused.

Li Weiyi had returned with single-minded determination to save her father, but only now did she feel lost and powerless. She sat there in a daze. Zhang Jingchan said: “This isn’t the Li Weiyi I know. What spare time do you have to feel sad? Pull yourself together.”

Those few words struck Li Weiyi like a blow, and she looked up at him in a daze. Zhang Jingchan rolled up the loose sleeves of his school uniform, revealing his wrists, gripping the steering wheel and sitting ramrod straight. Only those eyes of his remained as always—bright black, cold and clear, looking straight into people’s hearts.

Li Weiyi raised her hand to wipe away her tears, grabbed one of his arms, and said: “I understand. Take me to find him. Let’s go search along the route he took that night, okay? I keep feeling that Dad’s disappearance has some kind of connection to me. I must find that point where the butterfly’s wings flapped.”

The injured rabbit, with just one sentence from him, was provoked to flip over and jump up on the spot, even knowing to cling to him and not let go. Zhang Jingchan smiled very faintly and said: “Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

The two first went to the Li family’s store. The small shop was already closed. The neighbors, seeing Zhang Jingchan, were all concerned and gathered around talking all at once. Li Zhongheng had left at a time that wasn’t too late that day, and several shop owners had seen him, but no one had paid attention.

“When Dad… when Uncle Li left that day, did he seem any different from usual?” Li Weiyi asked. “Was he holding anything in his hands?”

“No, Old Li looked just like usual, even smiled and greeted me. He walked slowly and leisurely. He wasn’t holding anything, his hands were empty, right? Hey—young man, who are you? You’re really handsome. Are you a relative of the Li family?”

The two walked along the road back toward the Li home.

They soon arrived at a bustling small street with grain and oil stores, fruit shops, the vegetable market entrance, hardware stores, lottery stations, newsstands… everything one could need. At that time of day, some shops would have been closed while others hadn’t. The police had already asked around—no one had noticed Li Zhongheng that night.

Li Weiyi frowned: “When my dad left the shop, there was nothing unusual, which means he originally planned to go home. Walking down this road, only a few hundred meters from home, he suddenly turned toward the riverside. Something unexpected must have happened here.”

Zhang Jingchan said: “He didn’t bring his phone, so it could only be that he suddenly saw something, heard something, or ran into someone. There probably wasn’t a conflict or any major commotion, otherwise the nearby shop owners would have an impression.”

The two continued driving toward the riverside.

Around 8 PM that evening, quite a few people had been strolling along the riverside boulevard. But police surveillance showed that Li Zhongheng had been walking hurriedly the whole way, obviously with something weighing on his mind. Several surveillance cameras along the riverside boulevard all captured only him alone, with no companion.

Soon, the two arrived outside that wholesale merchant’s warehouse.

The wholesale merchant had also been questioned countless times by the police these past days. Seeing Zhang Jingchan, he was fairly mild-mannered: “Xiaoyi, that night I really didn’t see your dad. I didn’t have any reason to look for him either. At that time, you know, I do wholesale—I’d already closed up and gone home early. I really don’t know what he suddenly came here for.”

Li Weiyi believed his words. According to Ding Chenmo’s investigation, the wholesale merchant and Li Zhongheng had always settled accounts promptly with cash on delivery—no financial disputes. Moreover, they were both locals who knew each other well. Their relationship had always been good, with no conflicts.

But then, why had Li Zhongheng made a special trip to the riverside, walked past the wholesale merchant’s shop entrance, and then turned toward an unknown alley? Where exactly was he going?

Li Weiyi didn’t get in the car. She continued walking forward along the direction Li Zhongheng had left that night. Zhang Jingchan quietly accompanied her.

It was currently morning. The sunlight was warm and gentle. Many elderly people were playing with children. Along the street was a row of shops—there were roller skate rentals, cold drink vendors, convenience stores, bookstores, teahouses, lottery stations, restaurants, children’s playgrounds…

A vague thread surfaced in Li Weiyi’s mind. She walked closer to that row of storefronts, looking at them one by one.

Zhang Jingchan: “Remembered something?”

Li Weiyi hadn’t actually captured which shop it was yet. She turned her head, looked at him, and her brain reflexively conjured up “negative 10 billion,” then “soybean futures,” and then remembered what she had asked him yesterday: Why didn’t you let your dad buy lottery tickets?

Lottery tickets?

Lottery tickets!

She instinctively touched her pants pocket—empty. The slip of paper with the winning numbers from two months ago had long since gone missing. She looked at the lottery station not far away, thinking of another lottery station on the road from the shop back home. Her heart began to pound.

But… there were still many things that didn’t make sense.

“I’m not sure if my dad won the jackpot… I’ll go ask.” She murmured, running toward the lottery station, pulling up Li Zhongheng’s photo on her phone and handing it to the owner: “Uncle, have you seen this person? Did he come here the night before last, on the evening of the 8th, after 8 PM?”

The shop owner examined it for a moment and shook his head: “I don’t remember. Many people come here every day.”

“Then do you have surveillance cameras installed here?”

“No.”

Li Weiyi felt a wave of disappointment. Zhang Jingchan tugged at her wrist, indicating she should look up. It turned out the walls were plastered with winning numbers from various lottery draws and various periods, and another wall was covered with countless congratulatory notices.

Li Weiyi’s thoughts turned, and she asked: “Boss, have you recently had a Double Color Ball first prize winner here?”

As soon as she asked this, the owner’s expression became excited: “Yes! Of course! The April 8th drawing produced a 5 million yuan winner. I had the banner up for almost a month! Did you see it too? What a pity—there really is such a muddle-headed fool who never came for a whole month! A few days ago I even asked the provincial office, and they said no one had gone there to claim the prize either. The deadline passed on the 9th—most likely they never went to claim it. I’m too lazy to ask about it anymore.”