The two of them had just stepped through the courtyard gate when Wen Yan came hurrying toward them with a maidservant.

“Dr. Chen just telephoned to say the test results are in. He asked us to come by the hospital when it’s convenient.”

Good news first thing in the morning — Yan Qing couldn’t help breaking into a happy smile. “Then A-Yan and I will go to the hospital.”

“All right, I’ll stop by the precinct.” Shi Ting called after them, “Be careful, you two.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll look after Qing-Qing.” Wen Yan gave Yan Qing a playful wink.

For their safety, Shi Ting had Jin Shan and one of the Wen household’s attendants accompany them.

When Yan Qing and Wen Yan arrived at the hospital, Dr. Chen was in the middle of speaking with a patient, who kept nodding along respectfully at everything he said.

Once the patient left, Dr. Chen stood up at once. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Wen Yan flushed slightly. “Not at all — your work comes first.”

Dr. Chen picked up a file. “The report is ready.”

Yan Qing took it quickly and offered a sincere word of thanks before opening it without delay.

As her eyes moved across the neat rows of figures and text, a faint smile crossed her face. Her hypothesis had been correct — Mo Xiangrong’s cause of death was indeed far from straightforward.

“Dr. Chen has done us an enormous favor. I honestly don’t know how to thank you.” Yan Qing glanced over at Wen Yan. “A-Yan, why don’t you stay and take Dr. Chen to lunch? Please thank him properly on my behalf.”

“Me?” Wen Yan blinked.

“Yes — I need to head back to the precinct. I’m sorry to trouble you.” Yan Qing smiled at her, then once more expressed her gratitude to Chen Jiaze. Chen Jiaze made no objection to this arrangement, bidding Yan Qing farewell with a calm, pleasant expression. Wen Yan, left behind, shifted awkwardly where she stood, unsure what to do with herself.

Chen Jiaze turned to her with a smile. “It’s still a while before lunch. Miss Wen, would you like to lend me a hand? I have a week’s worth of case files — could you help me organize them?”

Wen Yan was happy to, though she settled into her seat with some uncertainty. “This is my first time doing something like this. What if I muddle things up?”

Chen Jiaze was unconcerned. “It’s just sorting by category — there isn’t much room for serious error. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll correct it.”

Reassured, Wen Yan picked up the files with both hands and set to work with great care.

Chen Jiaze glanced at the girl across from him, brow furrowed in concentration, and smiled quietly to himself.

—

Back at the precinct, Li Haotian — who had now been in custody for two days — was still in reasonable spirits.

The staff there, out of deference to Commander Li, had treated him quite well. He had been given a private cell, a basin of water for washing, and a razor. Li Haotian was a heavy smoker, and the supervising officer often slipped him a cigarette.

When Li Haotian was first brought in, he had been confident that Li Yongqi would send someone to secure his release. No such person had come — but Shi Ting had.

Seeing Shi Ting, Li Haotian immediately leapt to his feet. “Director Shi, please, for my father’s sake, do something. I’ve been wrongly accused. I didn’t kill anyone. Why would I go and kill two people over a little money? It makes no sense.”

Shi Ting noted the softening in his attitude. Without Li Yongqi coming to his rescue, Li Haotian’s confidence had clearly deflated. There was nothing to be gained by making noise now — far better to look for another way out.

“When you found Mo Xiangrong’s body in the courtyard, he wasn’t wearing any clothes?”

“That’s right. He was lying there bare as the day he was born — not a stitch on him.”

Shi Ting had the clothing found in the cellar brought out. “Have a look. Is this what Mo Xiangrong was wearing when he met with you that evening?”

Li Haotian examined it carefully. He was not someone who paid attention to such details — in his world, only money and beautiful women warranted a second glance.

“I can’t remember. It might be, or might not.” Li Haotian scratched his head. “Hongyu would know. She attended to him that night — she’s bound to remember.”

Shi Ting had someone bring Hongyu in for questioning.

“Who else knew about your apartment in Catfish Lane?”

Li Haotian thought for a moment. “Quite a few people, actually — a few friends I drink with regularly, and the people at the Yanque House.”

Shi Ting took note of this, his expression thoughtful.

Before long, Hongyu was brought in. She examined the clothing and stated with complete certainty that this was exactly what Mo Xiangrong had been wearing when she saw him.

“He had a cloth sack with him as well — it reeked of liquor. Quite unpleasant.” Hongyu wrinkled her nose at the memory. “But given that he was pulling money out of it, I put up with it.”

She pointed to a blue-grey cloth sack among the garments. “That one.”

The blue-grey cloth sack had been found together with Mo Xiangrong’s clothing. Inside were some silver coins, a banknote — and a forged check bearing Li Haotian’s name. It was this forged check that had established Li Haotian’s supposed motive for murder.

When shown the check, Li Haotian said he had numerous personal seals and couldn’t tell whether the stamped impression was actually his.

Shi Ting had nothing to say to a man so careless with his own affairs.

After Hongyu was dismissed, Shi Ting gathered with Inspector Li and the others for an urgent meeting.

Because of Li Haotian’s sensitive connections, the precinct had been reluctant to press formal charges — and Shi Ting had yet to declare his position on the matter.

Shi Ting spoke. “Given Mo Xiangrong’s social standing, he would never have had any legitimate dealings with Li Haotian, nor would he have known that Li Haotian was fond of cigars. So between the two of them, there must have been an intermediary — the same unknown person who placed the anonymous call to Li Haotian that night. This intermediary had an intimate knowledge of both Mo Xiangrong’s and Li Haotian’s movements and habits. Their identity must be something that would allow them to appear in both men’s circles without attracting notice.”

“Li Haotian has said that Mo Xiangrong was the one who sought him out at the Yanque House — he has no idea who the intermediary was. And now that Mo Xiangrong is dead, finding this person becomes all the more difficult.” Someone in the room sounded less than hopeful.

Inspector Li said, “If this intermediary is someone they both know, it’s not hard to understand. Li Haotian is an oblivious sort — as long as the person disguised their voice, he’d never recognize them.”

Shi Ting looked at the heap of evidence on the table, tapping a finger slowly against the surface. “This person had intimate knowledge of Li Haotian’s movements. If we start by investigating the people in Li Haotian’s circle, we’re not without leads. Li Haotian is partial to cigars, and Mo Xiangrong stole some. Quite a coincidence — or is it?”

He paused, then frowned and reached into the evidence bag to pull out Mo Xiangrong’s clothing and the blue-grey sack. “Is this everything that was found at the scene?”

“Yes,” one of the inspectors replied. “According to everyone who saw Mo Xiangrong that day, he was carrying only the blue-grey cloth sack and nothing else. The sack contained money and a pen. The fingerprints on the pen were compared against records and confirmed to belong to Mo Xiangrong himself.”

“Something’s missing.” The line between Shi Ting’s brows deepened.

“Director Shi, what’s missing?” Inspector Li asked curiously.

—

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*Wishing all my dear readers a happy Youth Day on May 4th — may you love learning, love hard work, and be positive, spirited young people! The author calculates that at this point in life, she can only look forward to the Double Ninth Festival!*

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