Compared to Wong San Man, who killed with his own hands and found a scapegoat, and Ng Mei Yan, who identified Yeung Ching Sing as the one holding the murder weapon — Yiu Chun Fai’s crime seemed lighter. Based on his testimony alone, Yeung Ching Sing would have only been charged with robbery or theft at most — not a heavy sentence.
“But since he took that dirty money — there was no escape.”
“He insisted that my father’s hands were covered in blood. A teacher — how could he twist the truth like that?”
“Back then, for the sake of his own children’s future, he took the hush money from Wong San Man without a conscience. And having tasted the power of money to make problems disappear — he knew how important it was — so he switched careers and became a tutor.”
She’d also used the fake press credential from Horizon Evening Post when approaching Yiu Chun Fai.
Yiu Chun Fai was a famous tutoring king — he was used to media interviews over the years. Yeung Mong Suet had scouted the area days in advance, lingering near his route home to put him at ease.
“He said he was busy — the interview could only be arranged in the morning. At his building, or at a café near his tutoring center.” Yeung Mong Suet’s expression was cold. “I said I’d rather do the interview at his home — quieter and more convenient for him. He agreed without hesitation.”
“That day, I wore a pair of tall boots and brought disposable shoe covers. I told him the boots were laced up and hard to take off — so I’d just wear the shoe covers to keep things clean.”
“Yiu Chun Fai wasn’t exactly easy to get along with. His place was spotless — he frowned when I refused to change shoes. But in the end, he didn’t say anything.”
As a child, Yeung Mong Suet loved to stay by her father’s side and watch him make ding-ding candy.
The freshly formed slabs were large, hard, and heavy — they had to be broken with a large iron chisel. Only when he took them out to sell did he switch to a smaller tool.
That day, Yeung Mong Suet carried a canvas bag — with an iron chisel hidden inside.
She’d estimated Yiu Chun Fai’s height and build — he would be harder to handle than Ng Mei Yan. She didn’t need to hear any more of those same hollow apologies — she didn’t even reveal her identity. The moment he turned around, she raised the chisel and brought it down hard on the back of his head.
The sharp tip struck down — once, twice, three times…
Yeung Mong Suet didn’t even remember how many times she’d swung — only that blood sprayed everywhere, covering her cheeks and clothes.
She confessed to it all.
She didn’t regret it — she only felt she’d come too late, letting him live comfortably all those years.
Yiu Chun Fai died — just when he’d saved more and more money, eagerly looking forward to reuniting with his sons abroad in a few years, living out his retirement.
As he lay on the floor, covered in blood, unable to struggle anymore, he stared at the expressionless young woman before him — not understanding what he’d done wrong.
Yeung Mong Suet slowly removed his clothes and dressed him in a large red trench coat she’d prepared in advance.
“Yiu Chun Fai was a respected teacher — dignified his whole life. Everyone believed whatever he said,” Yeung Mong Suet said coldly. “And my father — he never had an education — he was just a street vendor — so of course he must have been a thief, a robber, a killer.”
“Since Yiu Chun Fai used his dignity to harm others — I’d destroy that dignity. A naked tutoring king under a red trench coat — humiliating enough? I wanted him to be hounded by rumors even in death — to have his reputation ruined.”
After killing Yiu Chun Fai and cleaning up her traces, Yeung Mong Suet pushed the vanity mirror over — letting it fall on top of the body.
Then she changed into fresh clothes, turned, and left — avoiding the elevator, taking the fire stairs.
“What about Ku Cheung Fung?” Li Heng asked. “Why didn’t you go after him?”
“That street charlatan?” Yeung Mong Suet sneered, her eyes full of contempt. “For someone like him — with no family, no ties — a quick death would have been too easy. I wanted him to rise from poverty to glory — and then come crashing down at his most arrogant moment. Let him spend the rest of his life in prison, regretting everything he’d done.”
Back then, Ku Cheung Fung had sat at his Temple Street stall in sunglasses, playing the part of a transcendent master.
Now, she watched the high-and-mighty Ku Cheung Fung being arrested on camera in humiliating disgrace — his face drained of color — and felt nothing but satisfaction.
“My mother was a capable woman — but she came from poverty and had little schooling. When she was desperate and couldn’t find any way to save my father, she scraped together whatever money she could — the last of their savings — and went to Ku Cheung Fung in despair, hoping for a way to change their fate. But that fraud said a bloody calamity was destined for our family — either on her or on me.”
“And my mother believed his lies. If something happened to me too — she couldn’t have borne it.”
“So that night, she slipped out — and never came back.”
At that, Yeung Mong Suet fell silent for a long time. She lowered her gaze — tears glistening in her eyes.
Fang Zhishan handed her a tissue.
“He deserves to die too. The best plan I could think of was to wait until he was released from prison — on the day he thought he’d gotten a new life — and then stab him to death. But I didn’t have the chance to wait that long.”
Yeung Mong Suet fell silent.
Then, after a moment, as if remembering something, she gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.
“Oh, and one more thing. That day, Nannán told me she wanted to draw a picture to help Madam sister solve the case,” Yeung Mong Suet said, bringing the conversation back to the child. “I was the one who helped her call the police station — because I was afraid she might say something she shouldn’t, so I stayed by her side the whole time. I really didn’t expect her to have such a good memory. I usually kept my handbag in the storage locker — she might have only seen it once or twice — I never thought she’d remember it.”
Yeung Mong Suet knew that Ku Cheung Fung was a complete scoundrel — stupid, greedy, full of holes. With just a little prodding, he’d become the police’s prime suspect. But her goal was never to let him take the fall while she walked away clean.
If it were just about killing to vent her anger, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to plan everything. What she wanted was to reopen the case from ten years ago — to make sure everyone knew the truth.
“More than once, I thought the final point of this revenge should be Nannán. Even this morning, I was still considering it.”
After two brutal murders, the death of a young girl would have ignited an explosion of public outrage and media frenzy.
But in the end — she stopped.
Ten years ago, she had been an innocent child.
And today, Nannán knew nothing — she was equally innocent.
With that, Yeung Mong Suet had confessed to all her crimes.
“I’ve told you everything,” she said, looking up at Li Heng, still concerned with the same question. “Can my father’s case really be reopened?”
“We will formally charge you with multiple counts of murder,” Li Heng said slowly. “At the same time, Sha Tin police will immediately initiate the process to reopen the old case.”
Hearing this, Yeung Mong Suet nodded slightly: “I hope the police really do it — and don’t just close it hastily like they did back then.”
Beside her, Fang Zhishan gripped her pen tightly, looking at the woman before her. Finally, she couldn’t help but ask softly: “Was it worth it?”
She was so young — highly educated, heir to her adoptive father’s vast fortune — her life should have been bright with promise.
Even if she was determined to overturn the case, she could have gone through proper legal channels and cleared her father’s name honorably.
But she refused.
She wanted to make Ng Mei Yan and Yiu Chun Fai pay with their lives — to meet evil with evil.
“Was it really worth it?” Fang Zhishan repeated softly.
“Everyone has different thoughts — different ways of living,” Yeung Mong Suet said after a long pause. “For me — it was worth it.”
“My only regret is that Wong San Man didn’t die by my hand.” She looked up. “He was the source of all this evil — I should have finished him myself.”
Her tone was resolute — as if she had questioned herself countless times in the middle of the night, over and over again.
Was it worth it?
Her answer had never wavered.
…
The case was finally fully closed. The entire team let out a long, collective sigh of relief.
Chief Inspector Pan Liqin beamed — a smile too bright to put into words.
It was strange — wearing the same suit, the same hairstyle, the same polished shoes — that morning he’d looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now, he was brimming with energy and confidence. You could send him straight to record Police Report without even needing a stylist.
As Sir Pan put it — that’s the power of a happy occasion.
Cheers erupted from Team A — so loud that Team B next door slammed their office door in frustration.
But even with the door shut, the raucous noise from Team A seeped through, making the others green with envy.
“Speaking of which — what should we have for afternoon tea? We need to celebrate properly!”
“I heard the foie gras and truffle rolls at the Peninsula are pretty good.”
“The bird’s nest soup was so nourishing last time — how about longan and snow fungus stew this time? My mom said yesterday my eyes are looking dark — need something beautifying to replenish!”
Their voices carried, brash and unapologetic.
Li Heng watched the scene, a hint of a smile coloring her eyes.
Shen Zhicheng was laughing too — until her gaze landed squarely on his face.
“My treat?”
Li Heng seized the moment: “Thank you, young master.”
“I told you — stop calling me that!”
“Don’t fight me on this,” Pan Liqin waved, laughing. “This one’s on me.”
“Come on — if Sir Pan’s treating, afternoon tea is way too stingy!”
“Then it’s a celebration banquet, not afternoon tea. Sir Pan’s treat — of course we’re eating well!”
“I want that place — Auntie’s Hotpot — how about that?”
“Idiot — are you crazy? What’s so great about Auntie’s Hotpot?”
“Don’t all chime in — Sir Pan has his own plans,” Old You said with mock seriousness. “He’ll definitely call a seafood restaurant — abalone, shark fin, fish maw, the works…”
Pan Liqin was always generous. Whatever the subordinates shouted, he agreed to, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
Laughter rang out again.
Li Heng stood up and said: “Put afternoon tea on hold for now. This afternoon, everyone will—”
The smiles on everyone’s faces instantly froze. A sense of dread crept in as they held their breath, waiting for the rest.
Were they going to have to rush out reports and hold a debriefing meeting even after closing the case?
“This afternoon, everyone will—” Li Heng’s tone shifted, her lips pressing together slightly, “—go home and sleep.”
The office erupted in cheers.
Without another word, the officers grabbed their things and bolted out the door.
Pan Liqin reached out to stop them: “Hey! Hey! Stop right there — where are you all going—”
“Why not have Team B cover the shift?” Li Heng cut him off. “We’ve all been up all night — even iron men have their limits.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.
Inspector Li, who had led the team to crack a major case, had more than enough authority to make that call — it was only right.
Only the officers in Team B next door were seething with resentment.
“Sir Tse — why do they get to go home?”
“Team A gets to take time off while we have to cover for them — that’s not fair!”
“They get the credit, we get the blame — where’s the justice in that?”
“What can we do about it?” Sir Tse’s expression was sour. “You go crack a major case too — show them what you’ve got!”
…
Li Heng and Shen Zhicheng walked out of the station together.
Earlier, their minds had been completely consumed by the case — no room for any slack, nerves wound tight, even running on adrenaline.
Now that the case was solved and the final interrogation was over, exhaustion finally hit them all at once. The two siblings felt like they were about to fall apart.
As they walked home, Li Heng and Shen Zhicheng’s feet felt like they were treading on cotton or clouds — light and unsteady.
At least the station was only half a street away from their place. They wobbled and drifted their way back.
Taking the elevator to the top floor, they each fumbled with their keys, half-closing their eyes, too tired to even line up the key with the lock.
Shen Yong Xuan heard them and opened the door, arms crossed, leaning lazily against the frame.
One look at the two of them and she frowned: “Wow — what happened to you two?”
So this is why they call it beauty sleep.
Even young people couldn’t handle that kind of relentless pace — their faces were haggard.
“Aunt,” Shen Zhicheng called out.
He’d always struggled with insomnia — but right now his head was so foggy he was certain he’d fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Maybe he’d been too idle before — should have gotten a job sooner…
Shen Yong Xuan looked them over and said slowly:
“What kind of case required working through the night?”
Just then, Shen Zhicheng’s mobile phone rang.
He glanced at it — it was Grandfather. His brain wasn’t working fast enough to signal for silence.
Shen Yong Xuan raised an eyebrow: “Is there a press briefing? Don’t go looking like that — all rumpled.”
Shen Zhicheng covered the receiver, lowered his voice, and brushed it off: “Grandfather — no one’s here. You misheard.”
He dealt with Shen Chongnian in a few quick words and hung up.
Shen Yong Xuan answered her own question: “You should be wearing your uniform for a press conference.”
Shen Zhicheng remembered Li Heng once telling him he was loud.
But that must have been before she met their aunt.
He shot her a sympathetic look — then, while her brain was too fried to fight back, he slipped into his own place.
“Don’t anyone bother me,” Shen Zhicheng called out. “I’m sleeping till dawn.”
From dawn till dawn.
Click — Shen Zhicheng gently closed the door.
Li Heng also turned and went inside.
The faint scent of fragrance in the air had a calming effect, and the languid melody from the record player seemed to gently massage her frayed nerves.
Shen Yong Xuan moved lightly through the house. When she passed by Li Heng’s bedroom door again, she saw that she was already curled up under the covers.
For once, she didn’t disturb her — even softening the sound of her slippers on the floor.
Shen Yong Xuan walked from the living room to the guest room, then to the bathroom, following the lazy rhythm of the vinyl record, before stepping into Li Heng’s room.
Slap— She set it down with an elegant motion.
“So young, and already not knowing how to enjoy life.” Shen Yong Xuan turned to leave, saying casually: “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
Li Heng was already drifting off.
Half-asleep, she touched her suddenly cool cheeks.
Things really were getting better.
In her dream — she was wearing a face mask!
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