Two days had passed since the incident, but the crime scene was still saturated with the nauseating smell of blood — a stench that had only grown more putrid after fermenting for nearly forty hours.

The bloodstains on the floor had long since dried. The bodies had been removed, leaving only white chalk outlines in their shapes.

“Fan Mingming has already been taken to her grandmother’s house,” Shi Ting said, making a thorough inspection of Fan Mingming’s room. “She’ll come to the station to make her official statement tomorrow.”

“A young girl who witnessed a murder, left an orphan overnight. It’s truly heartbreaking.” Yan Qing had seen plenty of devastation like this, but she was not made of stone — no matter how accustomed she’d grown, she could never be entirely unmoved.

“By the way — you’ve only ever mentioned your Second Uncle and Second Aunt. What about your parents?” Shi Ting had found no information about her parents in her file, and was mildly curious.

Yan Qing’s expression stiffened briefly, but she recovered quickly, her manner becoming composed. “They passed away when I was very young.”

Shi Ting looked up sharply. Though Yan Qing’s expression was perfectly calm, he was perceptive enough to catch a complex ripple passing through her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Shi Ting said. “I brought up something painful.”

“It’s alright — it was a long time ago. I don’t really have any memories of them.” Yan Qing said. “When they passed, I was too young to understand. Second Uncle and Second Aunt took me in and told me that their home was my home now, and that I was their own daughter. For my sake, Second Uncle and Second Aunt chose not to have children of their own. They’ve always done everything within their power to give me the best life they could.”

“Deputy Director Yan and his wife are truly good people.”

Yan Qing smiled warmly. “Even though I call them Second Uncle and Second Aunt, in my heart, they’re my mother and father.”

Shi Ting said nothing, but a silent question mark formed in his mind. The fact that Yan Qing never spoke of her parents suggested there was more to the story.

He did not press further, but shifted the subject naturally. “What did you come to look for?”

“I suspect there was a third murder weapon at the scene.” Yan Qing said seriously. “The weapon used to inflict the postmortem wounds — based on my measurements — doesn’t match a pointed knife. The blade of a pointed knife tends to be relatively thin, while the postmortem wounds, although similarly one-edged blunt and one-edged sharp, have a noticeably wider blunt angle.”

“You think this weapon is still at the scene?”

“From my experience, this weapon resembles a Chinese cleaver. If it is a cleaver, the likelihood that the attacker used whatever was on hand is quite high. Why would someone bring both a pointed knife and a cleaver?”

“I’ll take a look with you.”

The two went downstairs to the kitchen. In contrast to the chaos outside, the kitchen was bright and spacious.

The Fan family’s kitchen was over thirty square meters — an open-plan, Western-style kitchen with a lavish interior.

Shi Ting opened one cabinet after another until he found four Chinese cleavers.

He laid them out in a row. “Can you determine which one it was?”

“I’ll need to take them back and run tests.” Yan Qing said. “Household cleavers are primarily used to cut meat and tend to retain residue from that use. But human blood and animal blood are different — a simple test back at the lab will tell us whether any of them carry traces of human blood.”

“Understood.” Shi Ting produced an evidence bag and helped Yan Qing bag each of the four cleavers.

“What about you — anything stand out?”

Shi Ting walked to the display cabinet in the living room and pointed to the second shelf, where a row of glass cups was arranged. “Notice anything missing here?”

“It looks like one cup is gone.”

“I noticed that the head of this household had severe obsessive-compulsive tendencies — every object is arranged with absolute precision, whether household items or books. The bottles in this cabinet are sorted not only by height but apparently by vintage as well. The spacing between these cups looks as if it were measured to the millimeter. Yet here, there’s a visible gap.”

“Perhaps the owner broke one and threw it away?”

Shi Ting shook his head. “If the owner broke it, he would have replaced it immediately. Even if he hadn’t had time to replace it, he would have redistributed the remaining cups to close the gap — not left this obvious empty space.”

“So you think one of the attackers took it? But why would they take just one cup?”

“They may have been thirsty and reached for a cup to get some water. After drinking, they took the cup with them to avoid leaving evidence.”

A light came into Yan Qing’s eyes. “A cup that size is not small — carrying it around would draw attention. So it’s quite possible the attacker disposed of it somewhere not long after leaving the scene. If we can find that cup, we might find fingerprints and DNA the attacker left behind.”

The two exchanged a glance, then headed downstairs together.

International Mansion’s property management was run by a listed company and its service was meticulous. When the property manager, Mr. Chen, saw them produce their credentials, he cooperated without hesitation. “All garbage in our compound is cleared daily. Once collected, it goes to the recycling station at the back.”

“And how often is the recycling station cleared out?”

“Every two days.” Mr. Chen flipped through a calendar on the desk. “Funnily enough — today is the day.”

The moment Yan Qing and Shi Ting heard this, they immediately asked the manager to lead the way and made for the recycling station without delay.

When they arrived, a garbage truck was already parked alongside the station, with workers on board preparing to load the refuse and take it away.

“Hold on!” Shi Ting called out urgently. “Could you delay the pickup by one day? We’re with the police.” He produced his credentials.

“I’ll need to check with my supervisor,” the worker said, pulling out his phone. After receiving confirmation from above, he informed Shi Ting that the collection could be pushed back to the following morning — but because they had to clear it before residents filed complaints, it absolutely had to be collected by morning. That left them half a day to search for evidence.

Shi Ting was about to call Old Fan when Old Fan’s call came through first.

After hanging up, Shi Ting said: “The person who called Fan Wenzhi that night has been located and is currently at the station. Old Fan wants me to come back.”

He told Yan Qing he would have people sent over to search through the garbage, with the goal of finding anything useful before sunrise.

The two rushed back to the station, and Shi Ting found a young woman waiting in the interview room.

She had stylish, long hair and was dressed head to toe in designer brands. She answered the officers’ questions with an air of casual indifference, clearly not taking the interview particularly seriously.

“I want a lawyer,” the woman suddenly burst out, visibly agitated. “What right do you have to interrogate me like this?”

“Miss Zhang Li, this isn’t an interrogation.” Shi Ting’s voice cut in at the right moment. “We simply ask for your cooperation. You were the last person to have contact with Fan Wenzhi.”

“Fan Wenzhi? I don’t know anyone by that name.” Zhang Li snorted.

“Miss Zhang, Fan Wenzhi’s last call record is yours. If you don’t know Fan Wenzhi, then your four-minute call at nearly two in the morning — was that a wrong number?” Shi Ting took a seat across from her. “If you continue to conceal information, we have grounds to suspect your involvement in Fan Wenzhi’s death.”

“Death?” Zhang Li was visibly stunned. “You’re saying that Old Fan — he’s… dead?”

Shi Ting said nothing, watching her steadily.

After a moment, Zhang Li reluctantly opened her mouth. “I was only his mistress. His death has nothing to do with me.”

Shi Ting signaled to the records officer beside him to begin taking notes.

“How long have you maintained this relationship?”

“About two years.”

“How did you meet?”

“I was once his student. At some point we both attended a conference in another city, and we had dinner together. After that, he started contacting me frequently and introducing me to well-connected people.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Insurance.”

The records officer typed steadily.

“He referred clients to buy my policies. I was grateful to him for it and often took him to dinner. One thing led to another, and we developed that kind of relationship.” Zhang Li exhaled slowly. “I knew he had a family, and I never intended to break up his marriage. Besides — I’m about to get married myself.”

“Where were you at approximately two o’clock in the morning on the second?”

“At my fiancé’s home.” Zhang Li said. “He can vouch for me.”

“What did you discuss during that call?”

“I had already told him I was getting married and wanted to end our arrangement. I wanted closure, but he refused.” Zhang Li gave a resigned, humorless smile. “He said I had used him and now that I’d gotten what I wanted, I was trying to walk away clean. He said ending things wasn’t out of the question — as long as I split half of what I’d earned over the past two years with him, he’d let me go. And he wouldn’t go to my boyfriend to expose me.”

“And you agreed?”

Zhang Li shook her head. “Whatever I earned over the past two years, I’ve already spent most of it. Where would I get the money to give him? And besides — he referred clients to me, yes, but I also spent two years sleeping with him. Surely that should count for something. I refused, and we got into an argument over the phone.”

“You weren’t worried his wife might hear?”

“He said his wife was in the shower and couldn’t hear.”

“Who ended the call?”

“I did,” Zhang Li said. “I got tired of arguing with him, so I hung up.”

“Just before you hung up — did you hear anything in the background?”

Zhang Li furrowed her brow and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”

“Think more carefully — for example, something like… a door.”

“A door…” Zhang Li, prompted by Shi Ting, seemed to recall something. “There might have been. At the time I thought it was his wife coming out of the shower, so I said a couple of hurried words and hung up.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing.” Zhang Li shook her head with certainty.

“Was his wife unaware of your relationship with him?”

Zhang Li let out a scornful laugh. “His wife was the real breadwinner — every yuan in that household came from her. Whatever title he held in name, he didn’t hold a candle to her in practice. He was actually a little afraid of her, which is why he made sure she never found out.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“A woman with her kind of strong personality — if she’d known about us, do you think she would have come after me without a moment’s hesitation?”