You Mingxu stood up straight and collected himself before knocking on the door with two solid “thuds.”

The sound of knife sharpening abruptly ceased. After a moment, footsteps approached.

The door opened a crack, and Fu Wenxiu peered out through the security chain, regarding them with cold eyes.

He was bald but tall, and at first glance, his athletic build was apparent. Although You Mingxu had already seen his photograph in the files, seeing him in person still made him tense up.

Fu Wenxiu had a striking appearance. Not handsome or ugly, but strange. His brow ridge was prominent, yet he had no eyebrows, just thin stubble where they should be. His nose was long and thin, but his lips were thick. Despite the cold late autumn night, he was shirtless at home, wearing only shorts. But what made people most uncomfortable was his demeanor. Even with two strangers at his door, Fu Wenxiu’s eyes were slightly narrowed, carrying an inexplicable smile that seemed both cold and mocking.

You Mingxu showed his police badge and explained why they were there.

Fu Wenxiu didn’t open the door, instead responding with exaggerated seriousness: “Police? What do the police want with me? Are you looking to buy fish? I’m afraid I don’t have any fish to sell right now. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, then come back tomorrow morning?”

Despite his odd manner of speaking, You Mingxu didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Just as he was about to speak, Yin Feng cut in: “We’re here to have a chat with you. Open the door—unless you don’t want to know what we need to discuss?”

Fu Wenxiu glanced at Yin Feng, snorted softly, and surprisingly removed the chain lock to open the door.

You Mingxu looked at Yin Feng as Fu Wenxiu turned and walked into the house. Yin Feng gave a slight smile and pointed to his head. You Mingxu immediately understood—he was suggesting Fu Wenxiu wasn’t quite right in the head? But how could he tell from such a brief encounter?

…Birds of a feather?

It was a sparse living room with just a table, a few stools, and a cabinet—nothing that would indicate whether the owner had OCD. Fu Wenxiu didn’t offer them tea, instead sitting down on a small stool on the floor and continuing to sharpen his knife.

You Mingxu looked him over again without interrupting and asked, “Do you live alone here?”

Fu Wenxiu suddenly raised his head, showing disgust, and lifted a finger to his lips with a “shush,” saying, “Don’t make noise, Xiaolong is sleeping.”

You Mingxu was taken aback.

According to Yin Feng’s information, Fu Wenxiu had divorced his wife five years ago, and his son Xiaolong had left Huaicheng with his ex-wife.

“Alright, alright,” Yin Feng said seriously in a lowered voice, “We’ll all be quiet. Let’s continue—you answer our questions, okay?”

Fu Wenxiu suddenly smiled, his eyes glinting, and continued sharpening his knife with a scraping sound.

You Mingxu: “Where were you last night?”

He answered: “Here?”

“Was anyone else here?”

Fu Wenxiu gave him a bland look: “Of course, with Xiaolong.”

“What were you doing?”

Fu Wenxiu straightened up, raising the extremely sharp fish-gutting knife, and muttered to himself: “Sharp enough now.”

…

“Do you have a car?”

Still staring at the knife, he answered: “Parked in the back.”

You Mingxu and Yin Feng, seeing he didn’t mind, walked through the house to the back. When they saw the old Golden Cup van parked crookedly under the big tree, You Mingxu’s eyes lit up.

The two returned inside and asked a few more questions. Fu Wenxiu answered intermittently—sometimes distracted, sometimes suddenly laughing, sometimes appearing not to hear at all as he focused on sharpening his knife.

Finally, You Mingxu took out the fingerprinting tools and gave Yin Feng a look. Yin Feng said, “Fu Wenxiu, hold out both hands and press down.”

Fu Wenxiu had worked up a sweat sharpening the knife and was breathing slightly heavily. He looked up at what You Mingxu was holding, suddenly gave a meaningful smile, and then stood up and raised both hands toward them, spreading his fingers.

You Mingxu and Yin Feng were simultaneously startled.

Fu Wenxiu’s fingers looked like they had been soaked in water for a long time, with white, rotting flesh at all ten fingertips.

He giggled “hehe” even more smugly.

You Mingxu remained unmoved, grabbed his hand, and pressed it onto the fingerprint card.

By the time they left Fu Wenxiu’s house, it was past midnight. The fourth person lived within a hundred meters.

This was a pork shop outside the market. The store door was tightly shut, dark, and lightless. A mixed stench of blood and meat lingered in the air.

“Let’s check the back,” You Mingxu said.

Unexpectedly, the backyard was quite large, about seventy or eighty square meters. Trees peeked over the yard, with several rooms. Light showed through the gap in the yard gate.

You Mingxu knocked.

After quite a while, they heard shuffling footsteps. A small, thin old man with graying hair stood behind the door, his deeply wrinkled face appearing wooden as he asked, “Who are you looking for?”

You Mingxu showed his credentials and explained their purpose—they were looking for his only son, Deng Yao.

The old man was silent for a moment, then said, “He’s already asleep… You can’t wake him up when he’s like this, please come back tomorrow.”

You Mingxu smiled slightly, subtly stepping forward to block the door, saying, “Uncle, there’s been a fugitive on the loose recently, we need to question every household—it’s a standard procedure and won’t take long. Please cooperate with us. If you don’t, we’ll have to ask your son to come to the police station to assist with the investigation, and that would be much more trouble, wouldn’t it?”

Yin Feng yawned and said, “Yes, uncle, we’ve already visited dozens of homes and we’re exhausted. The sooner we finish questioning, the sooner we can go home to sleep.”

You Mingxu’s lips curved slightly.

The old man said, “Then wait a moment, let me tell the missus.” He walked a few steps into the yard and called out loudly toward a lit room: “Fenghua, Fenghua… The police are here, say they’re looking for a fugitive and want to question Ah Yao. You rest well, I’ll come after they finish questioning.”

There was no response from inside the room.

The old man let them into the yard. You Mingxu quickly scanned the surroundings—it was dark, nothing unusual at first glance. The yard had that same bloody smell, with mottled stains of varying depths on the cement ground. Near the tree, there was a large space with some mud prints.

The old man led them into a side room, where they were hit by a stuffy, moldy smell and an indescribable body odor. You Mingxu glanced at Yin Feng, whose entire face was frozen in an adorably resigned expression.

She touched her nose as the old man walked to the bedside. On the old iron single bed lay a large man. The old man pushed him several times: “Ah Yao, Ah Yao! Get up! The police are here to ask about some fugitive! Cooperate well, then you can go back to sleep!”

The man grunted heavily like a bull a few times, rubbing his eyes as he got up. As he sat up, You Mingxu realized he was built like an iron tower, with dark skin and thick, solid muscles. His features were also coarse—thick short eyebrows, square face, thick lips, and unfocused eyes. He sat with his head down, avoiding eye contact with them.