Li Heng and Fang Zhishan rushed back to the station with Wen Zhibang’s statement and the class directory.
On the way, Li Heng asked: “What do you think?”
Fang Zhishan pressed her lips together and stayed silent.
Li Heng glanced at her.
The newcomer hesitated, then spoke softly: “The wealthy victim, the devoted student Liang Wei, and the nightclub girl Amin—the three of them… must have known each other. Otherwise, it’s too much of a coincidence.”
The conversation circled back to the victim.
Old You and Lin Jiacong were still following up on the victim’s information. No news yet—progress was slow.
“Could it be that the victim’s family never reported a missing person back then?” Fang Zhishan muttered. “Something’s definitely off.”
She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.
But Madam’s tone wasn’t harsh.
“Speak up next time.”
Fang Zhishan paused, then nodded firmly.
Li Heng had already turned back, one hand on the steering wheel, eyes on the road ahead.
They made it back to the station just in time for dinner. Fang Zhishan carried her tray and followed behind Li Heng, nervous as a middle school student.
Dr. Chen came over with his tray as well, and the conversation naturally drifted back to the skeletal remains.
“Even with the new equipment, the skull reconstruction will take at least three more days.” Dr. Chen teased, “Madam, you’ve got to let me eat.”
The three of them sat down.
“I mentioned this morning that the victim’s head circumference is smaller than that of a normal adult, and the skull is relatively blunt,” Dr. Chen said. “After a closer comparison, I found that the base of the skull is also flatter.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Abnormal bone and skull development.”
Li Heng’s chopsticks paused.
During her police academy training, she had taken basic forensic medicine courses. Abnormal skull development often came with other issues.
She asked: “Was the victim intellectually disabled?”
“Possibly mild intellectual delay.” Dr. Chen added cautiously, “Of course, we’ll wait for the full report to confirm.”
…
After dinner, Li Heng returned to the CID office and laid out Wen Zhibang’s statement alongside the farewell photo.
The police knew painfully little about Amin so far.
She had two faces—and even her name was a fake.
And now Dr. Chen had raised a new question: the victim might have had intellectual delays.
These threads should intersect somewhere.
“Madam, the neighborhood relationship check is done.” Lin Jiacong placed the documents on the desk. “Everything we could find is here. No new leads.”
It had been just over twenty-four hours since the skeletal remains were discovered. The Shen Group had handed over the property and tenant records from six years ago that afternoon—but going through official police channels would take at least three days.
The contact numbers for Liang Wei’s classmates were also being checked.
The officers of Team A had been working until now, yawns echoing one after another. When the boss finally let them go, they all bolted out of the station.
Li Heng left West Kowloon Regional Headquarters just past ten.
She still made a detour to Tsim Sha Tsui East.
When she first joined the force, her superior had taught her many things. She had repeatedly emphasized that investigations relied on evidence—a cop’s intuition couldn’t be used as courtroom testimony. Don’t let so-called sixth senses cloud your judgment and make you obsess over a single lead.
But Amin’s trail had gone cold here, and Li Heng couldn’t let it go.
Jinxiao Nightclub was still bustling, thick with the sticky haze of money and indulgence.
It wasn’t until eleven that she saw Vivi again.
Vivi slipped into the back room, grabbed a tissue to wipe her lipstick, and casually threw on a jacket.
“Madam, you again?”
Vivi had clearly been drinking. She sat down on the sofa, crossed her legs, and propped her head on one hand. Her crimson-painted nails rubbed her temples—her makeup already starting to smudge.
Li Heng brought up Amin’s “second face.”
Vivi, tipsy and loose-tongued, told a story about a lifebuoy.
She said Amin had been in the scene for so long—how could she really be that innocent? Maybe she just needed a lifebuoy, and once she got ashore, she’d toss it aside.
“Madam, what if Amin was playing innocent on the outside, trying to hook a rich husband?” Vivi pulled out her cigarette case, paused, then put it back.
An image of the victim flashed through Li Heng’s mind.
She thought for a moment: “Did Amin ever associate with someone like that?”
“Not that I know of. She had too much pride. Even if she did, she’d never let us find out.” Vivi said, “But her closest roommate back in the dorm days—that’s exactly what she did.”
“Closest roommate?” Li Heng looked at her. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“She got out a long time ago. You didn’t ask—who would’ve thought of it?” Vivi laughed. “Maggie was sharper than anyone. Went from the life to a rich wife, living in a little house in Ho Man Tin.”
“Amin learned a lot from her back then.”
…
Li Heng stepped out of Jinxiao Nightclub and walked to a nearby phone booth to call her subordinate.
Old You’s voice was muffled, with the sound of a TV show in the background. He had made a copy of the class directory before leaving work and was flipping through it while watching TV—saving time for the morning meeting.
“Old You, help me look someone up.”
After hanging up, she noticed that a new club had opened in the busiest part of Tsim Sha Tsui East, drawing curious glances from passersby. Some murmured that a master had been hired to calculate the most auspicious opening night. A row of luxury cars lined the entrance—their owners invited to add prestige. That was how the rich circles always supported each other.
As Li Heng walked past, she spotted that familiar sports car.
Shen Zhicheng was surrounded by a crowd, like the moon among stars. Someone handed him champagne, someone else pressed a business card into his hand, their faces full of eager smiles.
He still had that same careless, idle air about him—no different from before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Shen Zhicheng spotted the police chief who had hung up on him.
Remembering the unresolved grudge about that complaint, he pushed away the champagne glass and walked out.
Li Heng acted as if she didn’t know him, continuing forward without pause.
But after a few steps, she suddenly stopped.
“In your circle,” she walked back, “is there any family’s son—wealthy, but not quite right in the head?”
Shen Zhicheng stared at her for a few seconds.
“Are you insulting me in a roundabout way?”
“…Forget it.”
Li Heng couldn’t be bothered to explain. Just then, her pager buzzed. She looked around and decided to requisition the nearest phone.
“Lend me your phone.”
Shen Zhicheng casually handed over his mobile.
So this police chief really didn’t have a phone… wasn’t an inspector supposed to have a high salary?
The call connected, and Old You’s voice came through with the progress of his checks.
Of the nineteen classmates in the directory, only one had anything to offer.
“Six years ago, near the end of the night school term, a group of classmates had a dinner together.” Old You flipped through his notes. “She remembered that after Liang Wei ran into the girl Wen Zhibang mentioned, he kept drinking nonstop. She also mentioned that around that time, he already seemed to have a lot on his mind.”
“But she didn’t know why Liang Wei was troubled. The classmates weren’t close—at most they’d borrow each other’s notes. No real friendships.”
Old You continued: “Oh, and Wen Zhibang and Liang Wei had a tense relationship. Back then, a female classmate had a crush on Liang Wei, but Wen Zhibang was the one interested in her. It’s been six years—I heard that female classmate later became Wen Zhibang’s wife.”
Old You knew better than to assume—Wen Zhibang and Liang Wei had a history, and while it might not be related to the disappearance, procedure required it to be looked into.
Shen Zhicheng leaned against the wall nearby, listening.
The old stories dug up by the police investigation were more entertaining than any Cantonese soap opera.
“What about that Maggie?” Li Heng asked.
“Maggie—Cai Meiqi.” Old You had a wide network and had gotten the information in just a few minutes. “She’s a rich wife now, travels around the world all year round. Funny thing—two hours from now, she’s landing on a red-eye flight back home.”
“Confirmed?”
“I checked with an old contact who used to work at the airport police station.”
Old You paused for a moment, then spoke with a hint of resignation: “Do you need me to head over now?”
Li Heng checked the time.
Old You lived in Tseung Kwan O—by the time he got there at this hour, the flight would have already landed.
“No, just give me the flight number.”
A sigh of relief came from the other end.
Li Heng hung up and handed the mobile phone back to Shen Zhicheng, looking at his face.
The man was as alert as an owl.
“Free?” she asked.
Shen Zhicheng still remembered the old grudge and the new one. He refused to look her in the eye, and after a long pause, finally squeezed out two words: “Sort of.”
…
The sports car sped off toward Kai Tak Airport.
Li Heng hadn’t wanted to sit around waiting for reports and leads, so she’d taken a chance and gone to Tsim Sha Tsui East. Now a new lead had suddenly emerged. According to procedure, formal statements required a third party witness—an ordinary citizen would suffice.
Shen Zhicheng gazed out the window at the neon lights flashing past.
The idle rich kid was bored out of his mind. Now he’d found something even more exciting than street racing and bar hopping. For the first time—not just to appease his grandfather—he found that investigating a case was actually interesting.
No one spoke along the way. Occasionally, a streetlamp’s glow fell into the car, and Li Heng flipped through her case files.
Unable to make sense of it, she leaned against the window, the neon lights flickering like scattered stars, making her drowsy.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep.
The long ride continued, the roads gradually narrowing as they approached Kai Tak Airport. Shen Zhicheng slowed down and checked the time.
Li Heng sank into a dream.
She was back in that place again—resplendent and golden.
Just like before, she was lying down, covered with a soft blanket.
The glass globe spun overhead, the music box ticking and tinkling, clear and distant.
There was movement beside her—a soft murmuring sound. Was it a baby?
She tried to turn her head to look, but couldn’t move. Then, a warm, soft touch pressed against her—tiny hands and feet.
The crib was only meant for one person, yet she felt as though it had always been meant for two.
The dream became whole.
In the dream, Li Heng strained to turn her head, desperate to see who it was—
“Honk honk honk—”
The dream shattered. Li Heng jolted awake.
The warm touch of tiny hands and feet faded, leaving her in a daze—it had felt so real.
Li Heng shot a glare at Shen Zhicheng.
He was pressing the car horn, wearing an innocent look. “She’s out.”
…
Twenty minutes later, they sat down in the airport arrival hall.
Maggie had a suitcase at her feet. She had just landed not long ago, still jet-lagged, fatigue showing on her face.
After hearing the police’s purpose, she let out a cold laugh.
“Fishing for a rich husband? If Amin were that smart, she wouldn’t have wasted her time on that poor student back then.”
She paused, frowning as if remembering something. “Are you asking about Amin’s twin sister? The cripple?”
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