Mu Dai was becoming a bit impatient, but she was more convinced that something was wrong with Luo Ren: with half the street’s eyes focused on him, how could he remain so calm and single-mindedly select strawberries?

She looked back at Cao Yanhua, who was gesturing excitedly like an enthusiastic monkey, indicating: It’s him! It’s him! Definitely him!

Not satisfied with observing from afar, he abandoned a table full of dishes and strolled over with great interest.

Luo Ren paid and walked out carrying bags full of fruit. One side of the alley was a dead end, so he could only go the other way, which meant passing by Mu Dai.

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

Luo Ren, who had been looking straight ahead, finally stopped. He looked around in confusion first, noticing the neon sign of the Third People’s Hospital flashing overhead in the distance.

Finally, he noticed Mu Dai and asked her in bewilderment: “Are you calling me?”

Mu Dai stood up, staring directly at him, and without wasting words, went straight to the point: “Why are you following me?”

Luo Ren acted as if he’d heard the funniest joke in the world: “Me?”

He shook his head with a bitter smile, looking at the people around and then at Mu Dai, gesturing toward the hospital sign, seemingly very helpless: “Miss, my friend is hospitalized. I came to visit him without preparing anything, so I came to buy fruit. Perhaps unfortunately, we happened to take the same path…”

Among the onlookers, everyone except the fat man Cao Yanhua showed sympathetic and understanding expressions.

This world easily forgives good-looking people, and even more easily forgives handsome men who are humble and polite.

Mu Dai keenly felt the not-so-friendly gazes around her.

Luo Ren smiled apologetically at Mu Dai and brushed past her. As Mu Dai hesitated whether to confront him again, he came back.

First, he spoke to the fruit stand owner: “Excuse me, can I borrow a paper and a pen?”

He returned to Mu Dai, putting the fruit by his feet, writing something on the paper while bowing his head: “However, Miss, if you wanted an opportunity to meet me, my name is Luo Ren, and you can call me at this number anytime…”

Before he could finish, Mu Dai bumped him hard, making him stumble. Luo Ren rubbed his painfully bumped shoulder, watching her retreating figure, with a trace of a cunning smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

In the alley, Mu Dai walked quickly with a gloomy face. Cao Yanhua had to jog to keep up, panting and lamenting breathlessly.

“Sister, oh sister, it was him, I swear on my professional career…”

“Sister, you’re still too naive. Have you ever been in love? That guy was doing it on purpose. Let me tell you, I saw it. If you act wild, he’ll pretend to be a gentleman; once you act proper, he becomes a scoundrel. He’s targeting your shyness to make you back off…”

Mu Dai suddenly stopped. Cao Yanhua couldn’t check his momentum and rushed several steps forward before returning.

Mu Dai looked at him for a while, then suddenly smiled brightly.

What did this mean? Cao Yanhua was wary. Getting excited now? Don’t smile at me, smile at him.

“Many eyes and ears?”

Cao Yanhua finally realized she was referring to the three qualities he had boasted about earlier.

“Absolutely,” Cao Yanhua spoke eloquently. “Sister, let me tell you, throughout history, domestically and internationally, why do those who shadow and follow people repeatedly fail?”

“Why?”

“Because they detach from the masses. One person desperately following another, following through one street and then an alley, the one being followed isn’t a pig—they’ll discover it sooner or later. But we’re different.”

He spread his hands, immensely proud: “In the Jiefangbei area, our colleagues work 24-hour shifts. We also have WeChat groups. In other words, once I send out information, how many people will continuously watch him? Men, women, young, old, various occupations, various disguises, inevitably making him deeply mired in the vast ocean of the people’s struggle…”

“Then help me keep an eye on him.”

Cao Yanhua fell silent. After a while, he suddenly realized he was getting a raw deal: “Why should I?”

His tone was so intense that the first word came out too forcefully, and his spittle, if not spraying Mu Dai’s face entirely, at least partially landed.

Mu Dai instinctively closed her eyes when sprayed, then slowly opened them again.

Cao Yanhua felt a bit guilty.

Mu Dai took out a tissue, slowly wiped her shoulder, and smiled while gritting her teeth: “Aren’t we friends? When you visit Yunnan later, I’ll host you. Besides, don’t consider it helping me, just think of it as… team building.”

Cao Yanhua hesitated for a moment.

“Sister, it’s like this. I know you have some skills. Show me another impressive move so I can gauge. People make friends for usefulness—wealthy ones, powerful ones, skilled ones—I want to stick to all of them. Don’t blame me for being opportunistic in friendship. Everyone wants this, everyone wants to lean against a big tree…”

Before he finished, from the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed the space beside him was empty. Then he heard two soft sounds. When he looked up again, he felt steam rising from the top of his head, the words stuck in his throat.

My goodness!

On one side of the narrow alley was the back of a low building, and on the other side was the back of a taller building. Mu Dai was on the wall of the taller building, about four or five meters high, her hands gripping the edge of an air conditioner bracket on the exterior. Her body was inverted, head down and feet up, her eyes shining intimidatingly.

This was called “gecko walking the wall,” also known as “immortal hanging picture,” reportedly originating from Shaolin, but later popularized by outlaws, requiring long-term practice. The mnemonic verse says, “when mastered, one becomes light as an ant,” which must refer to people like Mu Dai, who truly resembled a gecko, suddenly darting up there.

It took Cao Yanhua a while to recover. He spoke excitedly, his voice trembling: “We’re friends now, Sister Mu Dai. I’ll find you at the villa as soon as I have news.”

Early the next morning, a server knocked to replace towels and also brought a file folder with two lines written in black marker.

The first line was: Ms. Huo Zihong.

The second line was: If there are any questions, call extension 108.

Though it was for Hong Yi, as her full representative, she should be able to look at it, right?

Mu Dai opened the folder to check. Wan Fenghuo and his team were truly efficient. Although they might not always be able to find the most secretive information, once they had a breakthrough, they didn’t miss any supplementary reference information.

Inside was detailed information about Liu Shuhai, confirming that Cen Chunjiao wasn’t lying. The autopsy indeed showed normal death from illness, and his left foot had indeed been chopped off, but the chop wound wasn’t related to the cause of death.

Additionally, the autopsy revealed more: in the middle of Liu Shuhai’s back, there was missing skin, specifically, a piece measuring 23.5cm long and 5cm wide had been removed.

What the hell was this? Mu Dai measured the length and thought it resembled a wide ruler or an elongated bookmark.

The report mentioned that these edges were very neat, certainly not randomly gouged out. Even if done deliberately, it required delicate skill. Moreover, it was only discovered during the autopsy when the clothes were removed. The wound was fresh, probably made not long after the foot was chopped off.

It was strange indeed. From when Cen Chunjiao rushed out to when she called the doorman, it was at most a bit over a minute. Chopping off the left foot was already inconceivable—who could have precisely measured and skinned him?

The folder included a brief biography of Liu Shuhai: born in 1972, a native of Changsha, who operated an auto repair shop. Neighbors and customers described him as honest and straightforward, never seen raising his voice at anyone, living an ordinary life day after day. The only major setback in his life was in 2007 when he took his family to see the grottoes in Datong, Shanxi. The tour bus broke through a guardrail and fell into a river. There were no major casualties, but Liu Shuhai was the last to be rescued, remaining unconscious in the hospital for 48 hours before waking up.

In 2008, he left home, saying he was looking for business opportunities elsewhere, and rarely contacted his family afterward. In 2010, he died of illness in a small hotel at Jinan West Suburbs Bus Station.

Another important point: family members recalled that Liu Shuhai had never been to Luoma Lake.

Cen Chunjiao was going to be furious.

Turning to the next document, Mu Dai suddenly froze.

It read: Additionally, no progress on the Zhang Guanghua project. Last reportedly seen at Taiyuan Bus Station.

The whole file was about Liu Shuhai, so why did Zhang Guanghua suddenly appear?

Mu Dai suspected Wan Fenghuo had made a mistake and casually dialed extension 108. On the other end, when Wan Fenghuo heard it was her, he let out a long sigh of relief: “I thought it was Cen Chunjiao again. She just yelled at me for half the day, saying these criminals have secretive whereabouts, and even if they went to Luoma Lake, they might not have told their families. I repeatedly assured her that payment wouldn’t be delayed, and she finally relented.”

Mu Dai waved the documents in her hand as if he could see: “Your internal processes are quite careless. Zhang Guanghua’s information has reached me—your confidentiality is terrible.”

Wan Fenghuo was puzzled: “Zhang Guanghua?”

A second later, he realized: “Oh, that matters. Didn’t your Hong Yi tell you? She was also inquiring about that.”

Now it was Mu Dai’s turn to be stunned: Also inquired by Hong Yi? How many people was she investigating?

Wan Fenghuo patiently explained: “Your Hong Yi has two cases with me, one is Luoma Lake, and one is Zhang Guanghua. Since you came on her behalf, I had people organize the latest information. Although there’s no progress on the Zhang Guanghua project, I mentioned it anyway.”

After hanging up, Mu Dai casually looked through Zhang Guanghua’s information. He was a native of Luoma Lake, living in the same building as the victim Li Yaqing’s family, and worked as a government employee. The file included a black and white photo—thick eyebrows, big eyes, handsome and righteous, very much like a movie star of that era.

Why was Hong Yi inquiring about such a handsome man? Mu Dai’s gossip instincts were aroused, but when she turned to the end and saw “married at the time, with a three-year-old son,” she immediately lost interest.

Just as she stuffed all the documents back into the folder, the phone rang again. The front desk informed her that a guest was looking for her.

Cao Yanhua stood in the villa lobby with his head drooping. Even before Mu Dai approached, she knew things hadn’t gone well.

As soon as she reached him, Cao Yanhua sighed heavily, probably too embarrassed to speak, deliberately using body language for Mu Dai to “understand.”

Mu Dai hit where it hurt: “Didn’t you say he would be deeply mired in the vast ocean of the people’s struggle?”

Cao Yanhua lamented: “Sister, it’s not our fault. Everything was fine initially, but then he suddenly drove out in a car. Do you know what kind of car? How could we keep up? We don’t have the capability for vehicular operations. If we could all drive cars, who would still be in this line of work? Besides…”

He mumbled, “When that car speeds up, even taking three taxis wouldn’t keep up. Oh, old master…”

Suddenly, he smiled brightly in greeting. Mu Dai turned to look and saw that Wan Fenghuo had come out.

Wan Fenghuo glared: “What are you doing here?”

Cao Yanhua quickly explained: “Old master, don’t misunderstand. I wouldn’t pick the pockets of your clients.”

Then, pointing at Mu Dai, “Good friend, we’re good friends.”

Good friends? Wan Fenghuo was dubious and was about to ask more when he saw the service staff who had gone to deliver something return. He quickly asked: “Delivered?”

“Delivered.”

“Did you take photos? Let me see.”

Mu Dai was curious: “Why do you need to take photos for a delivery?”

Wan Fenghuo took the phone from the server to look at the photos: “It’s just that Ma Tuwen doesn’t stay here, so the documents needed to be delivered. We had to ensure they were handed to him personally, so I asked the server to take photos. Wow, his place is quite messy…”

Mu Dai leaned in to look. In the photo, Ma Tuwen was holding the file folder, smiling broadly for the camera, as if receiving an award.

Just as Wan Fenghuo was about to return the phone, Mu Dai took it first: “Let me see.”

She zoomed in on the photo.

Young girls have such unpredictable thoughts, Wan Fenghuo thought as he glanced at her sideways: Is this Ma Tuwen so handsome that she needs to zoom in to look?

Mu Dai remained silent.

At Ma Tuwen’s home, it was indeed quite messy, with beer cans rolling around and a woman’s spaghetti strap draped over the sofa.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that on the cluttered table in front of him were several bags of fruit. Although the pixel resolution wasn’t high, she could roughly recognize them.

There were apples, bananas, and… strawberries.