That fleeting piece of information was now recaptured in her mind as she tried to sort it out.
In reality, the police DNA database doesn’t randomly store information on ordinary citizens. Only a few types of samples are included—those with criminal records, those who have been arrested, individuals connected to other cases, and personnel like herself who joined the disciplinary forces and had samples kept on file as part of the medical examination requirements.
A few days ago, in order to delay the case closure, she had specifically asked Xu Le’er for help in extracting DNA from the old powder puff that Ah Min had used. That sample should have been entered into the system by now.
But in the earlier call, Xu Le’er had only mentioned the kinship match between her and Shen Zhicheng—not a word about the connection between Chi Ah Min and Zhang Huijing.
Now, she picked up the receiver again and dialed Tech.
Xu Le’er thought Li Heng was calling to discuss that bombshell news, but instead, the first words out of her mouth were strictly business—professional and composed.
Soon, Tech gave a clear response: the two DNA samples matched.
After hanging up, Li Heng steered the conversation away from her personal matters without missing a beat: “Xu Le’er logged into the DNA system and ran the comparison—Ah Min’s DNA did not automatically establish a twin relationship with Zhang Huijing.”
“Wait—what does that mean?”
“They look exactly alike, but their DNA isn’t linked—what kind of joke is that?”
“Don’t tell me she got plastic surgery…”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Everyone knows Chi Ah Min had a younger sister. Since when can plastic surgery change your household registration records?”
A heated debate immediately broke out across the workstations.
“The two DNA profiles are completely identical. Maybe…” Li Heng spoke again, “for the past six years, Ah Min has been living under Zhang Huijing’s identity.”
The officers froze, falling silent.
At first, the idea seemed absurd—but upon reflection, it made sense in every way. It wasn’t that the logic was hard to grasp; rather, the revelation had hit them so suddenly that no one could quite process it.
Why had Ah Min vanished without a trace? Why did Zhang Huijing and Liang Wei appear to have no connection on the surface, yet always seem to have some vague link?
Perhaps the answer was simple—the Zhang Huijing at that company in Cheung Sha Wan was, in fact, the Chi Ah Min from six years ago.
“So that means Liang Wei never changed his heart after all? And the two sisters weren’t giving anything up for each other…”
“So Ah Min never really disappeared—she just cut off all ties to her past.”
“Her father was gone. The friendships she had with the other nightclub girls weren’t deep. Her only friend, Cai Meiqi, had parted ways with her on bad terms the last time they met, and had long since moved on with her own life. The identity of Chi Ah Min wasn’t exactly respectable—by comparison, Zhang Huijing’s life was much more stable.”
“So the Zhang Huijing we’ve been seeing—has always been Chi Ah Min… Chi Ah Min was a nightclub dancer, while Zhang Huijing seemed like a little white rabbit—there’s no way we could have connected the two.”
Fang Zhishan’s head was spinning. She looked at the telecom records and said: “Back in that alley in Cheung Sha Wan, Madam said that Zhang Huijing—or rather, Chi Ah Min—was on the phone with her mother. But during that time period, she didn’t dial or receive any calls. What was she trying to achieve?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Lin Jiacong said. “Chi Ah Min had no idea where Zhang Fengying was, so she lied about her mother being abroad—otherwise, how could she keep up the act in front of us?”
“In fact, back then, Zhang Fengying had taken Zhang Huijing away and had never contacted Ah Min.”
“In order to convince us that she was Zhang Huijing, Ah Min put on that whole performance. She made it sound like her mother doted on her—but it was all fake.”
“Then…” Fang Zhishan was dumbfounded for a moment, then looked up. “If what you’re saying is true—that Ah Min has been here all along—then where is the real Zhang Huijing?”
After all, their identity cards couldn’t be faked, and the memories of the old neighbors and the landlord couldn’t be fabricated either.
“But how could she have taken over Zhang Huijing’s identity? Just by luck?”
“Would Zhang Huijing have agreed to that? Lend her identity to her sister?”
“She interacts with so many people every day—wouldn’t it be easy for her to slip up?”
Fang Zhishan couldn’t make sense of it no matter how she tried, looking utterly deflated.
She looked up in frustration: “This piece just doesn’t fit. My brain can’t keep up anymore.”
“You’re not the only one.” Old You let out a “tsk.” “How is this case getting more and more complicated? It’s a mess—I’m confused too.”
“We’re still missing something,” Li Heng said quietly.
Solving a case was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Many pieces might seem related, but in reality, they didn’t belong to the same picture. What the police had to do was weed out the distractions, integrate the valid information, and assemble the complete image.
And now, even after confirming that Ah Min was Zhang Huijing, the puzzle still wasn’t perfectly fitted together.
That final piece—the police had yet to find it.
…
That afternoon, Li Heng stood in front of the whiteboard in the meeting room, searching alone for that last “puzzle piece.”
She paused for a moment, then placed a question mark next to Zhang Huijing’s name.
“Madam.” Old You appeared at the doorway—no one knew when. “It’s getting late. Time to eat.”
“I’m not hungry yet.” Li Heng moved the photo of the deceased, Zhang Pingxuan, to the space between Ah Min and Liang Wei on the whiteboard.
Liang Wei’s statement claimed that he had rescued Zhang Pingxuan from a group of triad punks in Tsim Sha Tsui, and the two became friends. But Liang Wei himself looked rather frail and bookish—how could he have fought off a gang of thugs to save someone?
Before long, Lin Jiacong also pushed the door open: “Madam, you’re not going to eat? I heard the canteen has new dishes today—if we go too late, they’ll be gone.”
“It’s already pretty late,” Gao Zijie said. “I heard the fried chicken wings are probably sold out by now…”
“Wait a moment,” Li Heng said. “You two go ahead and eat.”
Then Fang Zhishan poked her head in: “Madam, should I bring you a sandwich?”
Li Heng looked up and realized—Team A members had been coming in one after another to urge her to eat.
No one said it outright, and no one knew how to say something heartfelt—they just showed their care in this straightforward, unspoken way.
Everyone could tell that ever since she’d come out of Sir Pan’s office, something had been off with her.
“Gotta eat to keep your strength up for work.”
By the time she finally put down the marker and stepped out of the meeting room, everyone scattered like rabbits.
“Wonder if there’s any roast pork rice left…”
“I want instant noodle with egg and spam!”
“You dummy—you eat that every day. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
Their footsteps were quick, their figures disappearing at the end of the corridor.
Everyone was easygoing and had been keeping pace with Madam on the investigation. But clearly, no one wanted to have lunch with her.
It was well past the lunch rush, and the station canteen was nearly empty.
Li Heng casually ordered a simple set meal and found a seat in the corner.
The officers from Team A had all been working straight through and barely had time to grab a drink—now they were wolfing down their food. Laughter occasionally drifted over from their table.
This was, after all, personal time. And the moment she had a break, the thoughts she’d been suppressing came flooding back.
She and Shen Zhicheng had first met because of this case. The rich playboy who drove his convertible sports car through the streets with such swagger—the moment he appeared, he’d thrown his weight around, and the Chief Superintendent had personally told her to take him along on the investigation.
In their brief interactions afterward, he’d only reinforced that first impression—lazy, willful, troublesome—every cliché of the rich young heir embodied in him.
Could someone like that really be her family?
As far back as she could remember, she’d been in the orphanage. No keepsakes, not a single clue.
The director and the social workers never said much. The fact that the child had been abandoned was already set in stone—there was no point in giving the orphans false hope. She only knew that as a young child, she’d been badly injured and had a deep scar on her back.
She’d never cared about it. When a roommate at the police academy dormitory saw it, she casually said it was from her days as a triad girl. The other person seemed half-convinced, but since they weren’t close, they didn’t press further.
Li Heng had always believed that the past didn’t matter, that her origins were irrelevant. But now, cold, hard data told her that she and Shen Zhicheng were blood-related family.
Emotionally, there was a lot to process—but she didn’t dwell on it. Rationally, she could be certain: DNA identification didn’t make mistakes.
Li Heng took a sip of soup, trying to digest this fact.
Just then, a few complaints came from nearby.
“What kind of coffee is this? No aroma at all?”
“Auntie, has this coffee bean been sitting too long? It tastes like plain water.”
The canteen auntie poked her head out from the kitchen: “This is instant coffee, not freshly ground.”
“Instant coffee? How is this drinkable?!”
Li Heng instinctively looked up.
That picky tone—her first thought was that rich young master.
“Instant’s already good enough!” The auntie waved her hand. “Buying coffee beans and a coffee machine—you think that’s free?”
After getting a clear look at the figure, Li Heng paused slightly.
She’d mistaken him for someone else. Shen Zhicheng had long since left.
She suddenly remembered that day at the airport, after taking Cai Meiqi’s statement, when she’d gotten back into his car.
Shen Zhicheng had said, in a very low voice, that twins really do have a connection.
So was she the older sister, or…
Li Heng put down her soup and pondered the question with great seriousness.
She was going to be the older sister—she absolutely refused to be that person’s younger sister.
…
After lunch, Li Heng returned to her office and reopened Zhang Huijing’s file.
She’d read it so many times that her thoughts had become fragmented.
All along, the Chi Ah Min the police knew was the one seen through others’ eyes.
To her nightclub sisters, she was fiery and beautiful, never letting the customers get the better of her, carrying a subtle pride beneath it all. To Maggie Cai Meiqi, she was pitifully foolish—even with a chance to leave that life behind, she couldn’t bear to let go of the poor student who was her life raft.
But what was she really like?
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