Hong Kong, 1995. The evening breeze carried the sweltering heat of midsummer.
At an electrical shop on the corner of Sham Shui Po, a television was broadcasting live news.
“This just in. At approximately 5 p.m. this afternoon, human skeletal remains were discovered inside a tenement building on Hart Street in Sham Shui Po. Preliminary investigations indicate that the remains were concealed beneath a stove, and the time of death is estimated to be around six to seven years ago. The exact cause of death is pending forensic examination. Due to the high turnover of residents in the building, police are appealing for anyone with information to come forward…”
Outside the yellowed police tape, uniformed officers stood guard.
Long-time residents of Sham Shui Po gathered in layers, packed tight, barely daring to breathe. When an urban legend about a body hidden under a stove became reality, those few words alone were enough to strike terror into anyone’s heart.
Li Heng had a toothpick dangling from her lips, holding a bowl of freshly made curry fish balls, watching the commotion from outside the cordon.
A housewife clutching a shopping bag hurried toward the staircase. “Make way, make way. Don’t block the path.”
Li Heng popped a fish ball into her mouth, her gaze landing on the woman’s plastic bag. “Auntie, fish with their bellies up get a discount, right? That save you twenty bucks?”
Auntie Wang paused mid-step and turned to look at her.
The young woman wore faded jeans, her hair casually tied back. She had a youthful, pretty face, yet spoke about market prices with surprising expertise.
Auntie Wang’s face broke into a smile. “Oh? You know about that too?”
Li Heng tilted her head smugly. “Of course. I even know which stall sells the tenderest choy sum.”
The housewife’s interest was instantly piqued. “East Lady at the market sells the best choy sum, but watch out—she’ll jack up the price if she doesn’t recognize you.”
“Thanks for the tip, Auntie. I just moved into the next building, don’t know a thing around here.” Li Heng looked properly taught, then cast a wary glance at the police tape. “I didn’t expect it to be so chaotic here, with all these officers doing checks!”
“Just say you don’t know anything.” Auntie Wang pursed her lips. “This place is a mixed bag. Cops show up all the time. I can’t be bothered with their nonsense.”
“Auntie, I can tell you’re sharp.” Li Heng’s eyes curved into a smile. “I heard someone say they dug up bones in the building. What can they possibly find after all this time? People have come and gone—no one even knows each other anymore.”
Auntie Wang glanced around, then lowered her voice. “That’s not necessarily true. As a matter of fact, I knew the young man who lived on the third floor.”
Li Heng gasped and covered her mouth. “You mean… the tenant who lived in that haunted flat?”
“Back then, a young man lived on the third floor. Wore glasses, looked gentle and refined, couldn’t have been over twenty—seemed like a student.” Auntie Wang switched to a whisper. “But then, he suddenly disappeared.”
“Vanished into thin air?”
“Exactly! After that, the place sat empty and was never rented out again.” Auntie Wang glanced down at the fish in her bag and turned to leave.
Li Heng’s eyes swept over the other bag in her hand and lit up. “Wing On Supermarket? Auntie, I have stamps—I can redeem a free Ultraman figure. You want it?”
“Wing On stamps? My brat’s been nagging me for some Ultraman thing every single day!” Auntie Wang’s face instantly brightened. “You’d really give them to me?”
Li Heng had already pulled a crumpled, dog-eared stamp sheet from her pocket. She cast a mysterious glance at the police tape. “The student disappeared. Didn’t his family come looking for him?”
“What family?” Auntie Wang cupped her hand over her mouth. “He did have a girlfriend—fairly pretty, actually—but she was nothing like him.”
Li Heng let out a soft “oh” and handed over the stamps, leaning in gossipily. “Why?”
“Heavy makeup, changed her hair color all the time, acted like she was above everyone, never bothered to greet anyone.” Auntie Wang took the stamps with satisfaction, examining them closely. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. If the cops catch wind of this and come asking me questions, I’ll be stuck giving a statement for half the day, and I haven’t even started dinner!”
Auntie Wang tucked away the stamps and began to leave—but just as her voice trailed off, a voice came from behind.
“Madam Li!”
Auntie Wang froze. She turned toward the direction of the voice, confused at first, until her gaze finally settled on Li Heng’s face.
A uniformed officer jogged over. “Madam, Forensic Officer Chen wants you to go up first.”
Li Heng slung her badge around her neck, glanced at the housewife, and said coolly to her subordinate: “Take her back for a statement.”
With that, she turned and walked toward Desheng Building.
Behind her, Auntie Wang’s face flushed and paled in turns. Her mouth opened and closed, unable to speak for a long moment.
“She… she’s…?”
“She’s our head—a Chief Inspector from the West Kowloon Regional Crime Unit,” the officer said.
Auntie Wang stared at Li Heng’s aloof retreating figure—
A world apart from the young woman who had just been batting her eyelashes and chatting about stamps moments ago.
“Such a young Chief Inspector?” She shoved the stamps deep into her pocket and muttered sourly, “She played me!”
…
At the entrance of the tenement building, Li Heng glanced into the guard room as she passed.
Old Wang, the watchman, had been right beside the firefighters and was the first to discover the bones. He had just finished giving his statement, his face still deathly pale. He stared blankly at the bustling crowd outside, completely oblivious to her passing.
Several people stood at the stairwell entrance.
It was clearly dinnertime, yet no household had any interest in cooking. They craned their necks, whispering among themselves.
Li Heng withdrew her gaze, ducked under the tape, and entered the scene, running into several team members conducting the preliminary investigation.
“Madam.”
Li Heng gave a slight nod and walked straight ahead without looking sideways.
The door to Unit 2 on the third floor stood wide open, a wave of musty smell wafting out.
The stove had been chiseled open, cement debris scattered across the floor.
“The tenant downstairs reported faulty wiring causing a fire. Firefighters entered through the third-floor balcony. After putting out the fire, they were inspecting the scene and noticed the cement on the stove had cracked. As luck would have it, their flashlight beam swept across and illuminated a hand bone.”
Li Heng took the gloves handed to her by the forensic assistant, pulled on a mask, and stepped inside.
The walls and floors of the old building were stained and yellowed with age. The skeletal remains had been dug out from the stove, still preserved in the position they had been crammed into—tightly curled up, likely impossible to fully reconstruct.
Dr. Chen from the forensic department was conducting the preliminary examination.
Li Heng pulled on her rubber gloves as she approached. “What do we have?”
“Based on the reassembled remains and the conditions at the scene, the deceased is an adult male, age between eighteen and twenty-three, approximately five foot eight in height.”
“Blunt force trauma caused a skull fracture—that much is clear.”
The eye sockets of the skeleton were hollow and empty.
Li Heng moved closer, using the ultraviolet light, as if trying to converse with the bones.
“Any personal effects that could identify him?” she studied.
“Fabric fibers are pending further testing.” The forensic assistant cleared away residual cement chunks.
“Tell Forensics to expedite the facial reconstruction.” After giving the order, Li Heng turned and asked, “Have we contacted the landlord?”
The place was covered in dust, yet it lacked nothing in terms of furnishings—except that it was clearly uninhabited for years.
“The landlord emigrated long ago. In the early years, he left the rental matters to his cousin, who stayed behind in Hong Kong. Later, the cousin also went abroad, and the unit was simply taken off the rental market. Recently, there was talk of demolition, and the owners’ committee managed to track down the landlord’s contact. We’ll definitely reach him—it just takes time.”
Several colleagues were busy as bees.
Some crouched on the floor taking photos, others bagging evidence left at the scene—everyone was stretched thin.
“Team B reassigned Ah Lik. They promised to send someone over to fill in—that was days ago. What happened?”
“Don’t listen to the higher-ups blowing hot air. Every unit is screaming for more manpower now. Who’s got time for us?”
“Short-staffed and still hounded for clearance rates. Even with seven hands and eight feet, we can’t keep up…”
A colleague crouched by the window taking photos looked up and complained: “A new recruit? Dream on!”
A few of them chuckled under their breath.
Li Heng paused slightly in her movements, momentarily dazed.
Dream on…
—
These past few days, Li Heng had been having the same fragmented dream repeatedly.
It was a bright place, resplendent and golden.
She seemed to be lying down, covered with a blanket that smelled of sunlight.
Above her, a glass globe made of colorful mosaic pieces slowly revolved, tinkling softly to the gentle melody of a music box.
The details of the dream were too vivid—yet ridiculously so. It felt like a home, warm and unattainably distant.
And she—she had been “born” in an orphanage, but didn’t grow up there. She had been rootless her entire life. “Home” carried less weight in her heart than a case did.
Li Heng refocused her attention on the cement fragments and leaned in slightly. “What’s this?”
A yellowed piece of paper was embedded in the cement.
Using tweezers, she carefully nudged the paper—but it was so brittle that the edges crumbled to dust at the slightest touch.
“Bag it together with the cement chunks,” Li Heng instructed her subordinate. “Have the tech unit slowly restore it. There’s writing on it.”
“Is that a string of numbers?” A colleague squinted, trying hard to make it out. “One, two, three… can’t see clearly after that… then four, five, six…”
The paper, like the body, had been buried in cement for over six years.
The handwriting had faded, almost blending into the yellowed paper. A few digits could still be guessed from their shapes, but the more complex characters were completely illegible.
“One, two, three…” Li Heng murmured to herself.
What did that mean?
Just then, footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
It was a tenant from the same floor, coming downstairs with her child.
The child’s voice was muffled: “Mommy, why are you covering my eyes?”
“Shh, don’t look over there,” the mother coaxed softly.
“It’s so stuffy like this!”
“How could it be? Mommy can play a game with you.”
A moment later, the child’s innocent voice echoed through the silent stairwell: “One, two, three, hurry and hide.”
“I doubt the tech unit can even—”
The words stopped abruptly—Li Heng had gestured for her subordinates to be quiet.
The child’s voice still lingered, drifting through the old stairwell, now near, now far, with echoes.
“Four, five, six, can’t be found.”
The officers were startled, their breath catching. They whipped their heads back to the note inside the evidence bag.
From downstairs came the final crisp line of the rhyme.
“Seven, eight, nine…” The child’s voice faded into the distance.
The room fell silent. A chill ran down everyone’s spine, hairs standing on end.
The illegible scrawls on the note in the evidence bag seemed to rearrange themselves before their eyes, becoming crystal clear.
“It’s a nursery rhyme.” Li Heng leaned into the now-empty stove cavity. “One, two, three, hurry and hide. Four, five, six, can’t be found.”
“Seven, eight, nine…” She turned back, fixing her gaze on the curled-up skeleton, and softly spoke the last words: “Caught you now.”
It was like a game.
The deceased, trapped within the cement.
An eternal game of hide-and-seek.
Now, he had been found.
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