Fan Dongping’s mother appeared to be in her mid-forties, dressed and groomed in an unremarkable way. Under Zheng Yun’s questioning, her responses were evasive and her gaze restless.

Zheng Yun flipped through the documents in his hand and said in a firm tone, “Your name is Zhang Hua. You are forty-one years old. You have a son and a daughter. Your husband left for work in the Dongshan Province area ten years ago and has not been heard from since. You are idle and lazy, with no steady income. Your children have had to depend on the charity of neighbors to survive. Eventually, people saw through your character and stopped helping — and when you had nowhere else to turn, you set your sights on your daughter, Fan Dongping.”

Zhang Hua immediately protested. “That’s nonsense. I never did any such thing.”

“These are testimonies from several of your neighbors. Would you like to confront them in person?”

That single question deflated Zhang Hua completely. She wrung the hem of her jacket with both hands, and after a long silence, finally spoke in a small voice. “I’ll admit I had the idea of having Ping Ping sleep with a wealthy man. But I had no choice — her brother still needs to be fed, and I can’t work. Was I supposed to let the three of us starve to death? But Officer, even if I had that idea, it never came to anything. The man told me my daughter not only refused to sleep with him — she beat him and ran away. He even came after me for compensation.”

“Can you remember who this man was?”

“Of course I remember — it was Boss Yan from the tailor shop.”

The Military Police Bureau immediately summoned this Boss Yan. He confirmed that nothing had occurred between him and Fan Dongping — his wife had suddenly come home in the middle of it, Fan Dongping heard the noise, bit him, and fled immediately.

According to Zhang Hua, Fan Dongping had fiercely resisted her suggestion. Every subsequent attempt Zhang Hua made to arrange a similar arrangement had been met with stubborn refusal, and Fan Dongping had even threatened to kill herself. Zhang Hua had been frightened enough by that to stop pushing.

Shi Ting reviewed the statements, his expression grave. “Neither Zhang Hua nor Boss Yan appears to be lying. Fan Dongping likely did not engage in that sort of transaction.”

“But according to Yan Qing’s autopsy report, Fan Dongping had been with someone, which contradicts their accounts.” Zheng Yun looked puzzled. “Could there be another man hiding in the shadows?”

“Whether it’s Leng Yu or Fan Dongping — we’re still missing the thread that ties them together. And I believe the key thread is most likely a man.” Shi Ting set the documents on the table and rubbed his temples. “There’s another problem. The toxicology results are in — neither victim had any trace of drugs or toxic substances in their systems. In other words, both women were in a state of complete mental clarity when they swallowed the cotton and the thumbtacks — and died willingly at the killer’s hands.”

Zheng Yun felt a chill run through him. “No resistance? Perhaps the killer was armed — held them at gunpoint during the act.”

“That possibility can’t be ruled out.” Shi Ting said. “Keep investigating Leng Yu and Fan Dongping’s personal connections. Most importantly, we need to find Leng Yu’s family.”

“It’s strange — Leng Yu has been missing for days, and not a single person has come to the school looking for her. Could she be an orphan?”

An orphan?

Something clicked for Shi Ting like a sudden shaft of light. A flash of excitement crossed his striking face. “Zheng Yun — take a team and investigate the orphanages in Shun Cheng immediately. We may well find a lead on this Leng Yu.”

That afternoon, Zheng Yun returned with good news. He had found Leng Yu’s records at one of Shun Cheng’s orphanages.

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