After walking the dog and taking a shower, Lu Shichen was about to start his work for the day when he received a message—
"Handsome, are you still planning to rent the house? Someone wants to come see it this afternoon. If you want to rent it, I won't let them come over."
It was from the landlord of the apartment he had viewed a few days ago.
Because a murder had occurred in Building 3—although the crime scene wasn't inside this building—some superstitious tenants were already planning to move.
However…
Lu Shichen stood on the living room balcony looking out. Recently, because of noise from upstairs, he had actually looked at apartments in other residential buildings.
His sleep quality was poor; even a little noise could disturb his sleep. But after viewing several apartments, he hadn't found a new place he liked.
The apartments in this complex were all sold fully furnished with similar layouts and decoration, but only Building 3 had the best view. Standing on the balcony, one could see far into the distance.
Lu Shichen stood on the balcony, feeling the breeze, watching the traffic light in front of the city bureau turn from red to green as a police car drove out. He returned to his room and replied to the message on his phone: "Not renting it. You can rent it to someone else."
*
Meng Zhao stared at the line of writing on the flyleaf. ZT… should be a person's name, right?
The handwriting on the flyleaf was darker and messier than the other pages. If his judgment was correct, this line was written later than the other diary entries, perhaps after Zhou Yan moved back to the old house for university?
Meng Zhao continued flipping. Zhou Yan's diary entries were very brief—
"So annoyed, don't want to be friends with them anymore, but I'm afraid I'll be the next one isolated."
"I wish I could transfer schools."
"Passed by ZT and wanted to say sorry, but Tiger called me from ahead. He probably noticed, right? No wonder they didn't want to talk to me this afternoon. Forget it, I don't want to talk to them either."
"During the exam, ZT didn't have a 2B pencil, and no one would lend him one. Although Tiger warned me with his eyes again, I still lent him one. Really awkward. But next week might be tough again."
This seemed to be… a middle school bullying incident? Meng Zhao guessed Zhou Yan's role was like he said on the flyleaf—a bystander—but he seemed to have a good relationship with the ringleader "Tiger."
In the following pages, Zhou Yan stopped recording specific dates. His diary was full of emotional expressions:
"Scared, what should I do…"
"Shouldn't be related to me, right? I didn't do anything wrong."
"Can't sleep again, how does the night come so fast."
"Please don't let me dream of you again, I beg you."
Meng Zhao quickly finished the diary and set it aside. He searched "Wenzhao High School bullying" on his computer but found no related news online.
He then took out Zhou Yan's phone and browsed the photo album. Most photos were group shots of Zhou Yan with friends, showing he had many friends of both genders. Occasionally, there were one or two photos with Zhao Yunhua.
From their poses and relaxed smiles, if Meng Zhao hadn't known their relationship beforehand, he would have thought they were mother and son. After all, most housekeepers wouldn't sit at the same table as their clients for meals.
Most photos were taken at the dining table. Meng Zhao imagined the scene: Zhao Yunhua had cooked a good meal, Zhou Yan happily sat at the table, took out his phone to photograph the dishes, then raised his phone and said, "Come on, Aunt Zhao, let's take a photo together!"
"I'm back," Cheng Yun walked into the office, fanning her face with her hand. "It's so hot today, Brother Zhao. I brought back photocopies of the records from the law firm."
"Put them down first, just in time," Meng Zhao gestured for her to come over. He wrote "Wenzhao High School" on a sticky note, tore it off, and handed it to Cheng Yun. "Call this high school, check which class Zhou Yan was in back then, and get the class list."
"Oh…" Cheng Yun took the note, surprised. "You're checking all the way back to high school?"
"Just a lead," Meng Zhao stood up from the computer. "I'm going upstairs to the forensic room. Bring me the list when you get it."
"Got it—" Cheng Yun stretched out the word.
Since no new bodies had been sent for autopsy, Li Jin was idly browsing shopping websites. Seeing Meng Zhao come in, she stood up. "Captain Meng, any progress on the case?"
"No major progress," Meng Zhao said, "I came to…"
"Let's confirm Zhou Yan's time of death—it was between 9 and 10 p.m. on the night of the incident, right?"
"Yes. Are you asking if we can narrow down the time further?" Li Jin flipped open the autopsy report. "Actually, it can be shortened by another eight minutes. I told you that before."
"Not about shortening it. I want to ask if it's possible that Zhou Yan was killed before 9 p.m.?"
"Impossible," Li Jin said briefly and with certainty.
"Senior, I'm not doubting your professional skills, but…" Meng Zhao furrowed his brows slightly. He recalled the time displayed in the upper left corner of the surveillance footage: Zhao Yunhua appeared at 8:54 p.m. on the footage, rummaging through a trash bin. Earlier, the surveillance closest to the crime scene showed Zhao Yunhua at 8:41 p.m. near Yuhu Bay.
"Pushing it back 20 minutes is absolutely impossible," Li Jin said. "I dissected the esophagus and judged the time of death based on the speed of food digestion. Zhou Yan's body hasn't been collected yet; the family said they'd pick it up in the afternoon. If you're not convinced, Meng, I can invite my master to come and examine it on the spot?"
Li Jin's master, Shi Qi, is a professor of forensic medicine at the Public Security University, already in his seventies. It seemed inappropriate to suddenly bring the elderly man here. Besides, Li Jin is Shi Qi's last disciple and holds a doctorate in forensic medicine. She ranked first in her professional courses every year during her studies, so it was unlikely she would make a mistake this time. Yet, given the current situation, Meng Zhao still found it hard to explain.
"Don't invite him for now. Tell the family not to collect the body just yet," Meng Zhao said. "I'll notify them later."
"Alright," Li Jin agreed promptly.
As they went downstairs, Meng Zhao reviewed the clues of the case. Judging by the blood dragged on the ground, the killer probably wasn't very strong;
From the ligature marks on the victim's neck downwards, the killer's height was likely below 1.73 meters;
From the surveillance footage, the day before the incident, Zhao Yunhua appeared in the Yuhu Bay community's cameras. It was said she rummaged through trash bins there daily for cardboard boxes. Although there was a reasonable explanation for why she appeared on the footage, this also gave her enough time to take Zhou Yan's package, which was placed in the water meter box by the courier;
Also, in Zhou Yan's diary, the initials "ZT" were recorded. The letter "Z" coincides with the first letter of "Zhao." Could this be a coincidence…
All these clues and his intuition forced him to focus his attention on Zhao Yunhua, but during the victim's time of death, Zhao Yunhua had a clear alibi…
This case was truly strange, Meng Zhao couldn't help but feel this way. First, there was that dog hair, then the freshly painted wall of Building 7, followed by the plagiarism incident, and now the school bullying recorded in Zhou Yan's diary from ten years ago… Too many interfering factors, all seemingly connected to the case, yet they couldn't be linked into a coherent line.
Meng Zhao entered the office, where Cheng Yun was still on the phone contacting school staff.
He walked over to the computer and opened the surveillance footage near Yuhu Bay. The night before the incident, Zhao Yunhua, as usual, carried a huge black garbage bag filled with cardboard boxes, cans, and bottles she had rummaged from trash bins. Perhaps the bag was heavy that day, so Zhao Yunhua had to carry it with both hands to prevent the bottom from tearing and dragging on the ground.
Zhao Yunhua was obviously not very strong, which made Meng Zhao doubt whether she could have strangled Zhou Yan. However, Zhou Yan had been drinking that night, and if he was in a dizzy, unsteady drunken state, the outcome was uncertain…
"Brother Zhao, the school says they need proof before they'll give out the class list," Cheng Yun hung up the phone and told Meng Zhao, "I'll go handle it."
"I'll go," Meng Zhao stood up and grabbed his car keys. "You have other things to do."
"What things?" Cheng Yun walked over.
"You check the Wen Zhao High School forum records, focusing on any discussions about school bullying during Zhou Yan's high school years. The keywords might be subtle, so look carefully."
"Forum records from ten years ago…" Cheng Yun muttered.
"Contact me as soon as you find anything," Meng Zhao said as he headed out, dialing Zhou Qiyang on the phone.
As soon as Zhou Qiyang answered, he said, "Brother Zhao, are you coming to help us with the investigation?"
"Let them investigate first," Meng Zhao said, walking toward his car. "Check where Zhao Yunhua is now, but be careful not to alert her."
"Huh? Could it be her?" Zhou Qiyang recalled Zhao Yunhua in the footage and shared the same doubt as Meng Zhao. "A middle-aged woman in her forties or fifties strangling a 28-year-old young man…"
"Don't forget Zhou Yan was drunk that night," another colleague chimed in.
"Slightly drunk, not completely wasted."
Hearing the two argue on the other end, Meng Zhao hung up, got into his car, and drove out of the city bureau.
Wen Zhao High School was nearly twenty kilometers from Huai'an District. Although the roads weren't congested, it still took Meng Zhao over half an hour to arrive.
Since Cheng Yun had already explained the purpose over the phone, the school staff only needed to see his police ID before they found the class roster from that year and handed it to Meng Zhao.
Meng Zhao took it and skimmed through the list from top to bottom, then pointed at the characters "Zhao Tong" and asked, "Do you have this student's records?"
The woman in charge of external reception was in her early forties. She leaned over to look at the list, then glanced up at Meng Zhao. That glance alone revealed a hint of wariness in her eyes.
"Once they enter university, their files are transferred out," she said. "We don't have the files here."
"What if they didn't get into university?" Meng Zhao asked.
"If they didn't, they're on their own," she replied dismissively, seemingly eager to get rid of him. She repeated, "We don't have the files here."
"Zhao Tong is already dead, right?" Meng Zhao looked her straight in the eyes and asked bluntly.
The woman seemed startled by his gaze but quickly looked away, her tone turning cold: "That case was years ago. Why are you suddenly looking into it now? The court already ruled it a suicide, unrelated to the school. Do you expect the school to take responsibility every time there's a suicide?"
No wonder she was evasive—it was fear of accountability. Meng Zhao sneered inwardly and calmly said, "Since you don't know, have Zhao Tong's homeroom teacher cooperate with the investigation."
Because of the school bullying incident years ago, Zhao Tong's homeroom teacher, Zhang Yue, had resigned ten years ago and was now running a small family business. Although reluctant, the school staff still called Zhang Yue and got his current address.
He was quite cooperative and said there was no need to trouble the police to come; he would go to the school himself.
The school arranged an empty office for Meng Zhao, then disappeared.
While waiting for Zhang Yue, Meng Zhao stood by the window and looked down at the students having gym class on the playground.
It seemed that the high school uniforms across Mingtan City were all this blue-and-white style. It had been twelve years since he graduated, but from afar, the uniform style hadn't changed much.
The boys on the playground were playing basketball. Meng Zhao clearly remembered playing basketball once in high school.
He remembered that day vividly because the day before, the second trial verdict came out for his uncle Meng Xiangyu's case, and the judge declared Meng Xiangyu innocent in court. After that day, Meng Zhao felt a huge burden lifted, felt light and free, and walking on the street, he felt like he could fly at any moment.
Coincidentally, there was gym class the next day. The PE teacher arranged for boys and girls to split into groups: boys played basketball, girls played games on the small playground. Since basketball didn't require many players, the teacher said boys could join the girls' group to play games.
The top students in Class One generally weren't interested in sports. Many boys, upon hearing about basketball, voluntarily joined the girls' group to play games, leaving only nine boys who were stuck because the numbers didn't match.
As the only underachiever in Class One, Meng Zhao never quite fit in. He didn't want to play basketball or games and was squatting by the playground enjoying this rare moment of relaxation, thinking about how to escape the PE teacher's watchful eyes to go somewhere else to cool off. Unexpectedly, those good students discussed among themselves and sent someone over to ask if he wanted to play basketball with them.
In a rare good mood, Meng Zhao got up and joined them. He couldn't recall the exact details of the game now, only remembering that the opponents were a bit weak, with only Lu Shichen as the main player.
Lu Shichen was dribbling and running over, about to jump and shoot. Meng Zhao jumped up to block him. At the same time, someone from the opposing team rushed over to block Meng Zhao, trying to stop him from knocking the ball away from Lu Shichen.
That person was too reckless when colliding. Meng Zhao was mid-jump, both feet off the ground. The collision was strong, knocking Meng Zhao back two steps. Losing his balance, he fell and sat on the ground.
Actually, this incident had nothing to do with Lu Shichen.
After all, neither the person who hit nor the one who committed the foul was him, but Meng Zhao remembered that it was actually Lu Shichen who reached out his hand. Lu Shichen opened his palm toward him, eyes lowered as he looked at him, with an air of superiority. Although this attitude made Meng Zhao reluctant to grasp the hand in front of him, because Lu Shichen's father, Lu Chengze, had just defended Meng Xiangyu, Meng Zhao, following the principle of "the other party is the son of a benefactor and cannot be treated too coldly," still took that hand and used Lu Shichen's strength to stand up. "Do you want to go to the infirmary?" Meng Zhao recalled Lu Shichen asking at the time. He withdrew his hand: "No need." Looking back now, because he had been a detached presence in the class throughout the three years of high school, there were very few classmates whose names he could still recall. When he thought back on his high school memories, Lu Shichen surprisingly occupied more than half of them. "Knock knock knock." The door was knocked. Meng Zhao snapped back to reality and turned to look. A middle-aged man in his forties stood by the door: "Are you Officer Meng? Sorry for coming a bit late." — It was Zhang Yue, Zhao Tong's homeroom teacher back then.
