The dust of that recent upheaval finally settled, and it wasn't until late the following afternoon, just before closing time, that Director Jiang reappeared, summoning all of us back. The smoky residue of yesterday’s confrontation was gone from his face, but he was noticeably quieter, sitting there in silence, his gaze sweeping over each one of us in turn.

His steady stare made us all uneasy. I caught Gao Jianning’s eye and gave him a subtle nudge; with his unique standing, anything he said wouldn't draw too harsh a rebuke from Director Jiang.

Gao Jianning took the cue and stepped forward immediately. “Director Jiang, let the past be the past. We have so much bright future ahead of us.”

The moment I heard that, I knew it was bad—how could anyone speak to Director Jiang like that? It was practically a death wish.

Yet, Director Jiang seemed to have entirely forgotten the previous day’s events. His face darkened, and he snapped at Gao Jianning, “This doesn’t concern you. Get back to work.”

I quickly lowered my head. Though I had gathered my courage yesterday to defend him, my abilities proved lacking, and the defense failed. It was best to be discreet now.

Then, Director Jiang suddenly spoke: “Comrades.”

Hearing those three words, I knew we were in the clear. Those words signified that Director Jiang was now addressing the situation strictly from a professional standpoint, meaning his personal grievances with Fu Zhen had nothing to do with us anymore.

Director Jiang continued, “I sincerely apologize to everyone for yesterday’s incident. I hope you can all find it in your hearts to forgive me!”

We were all stunned, staring at him blankly. Was this truly Director Jiang?

Director Jiang cleared his throat twice. “What is this? Haven’t you ever seen me before?”

“Ah, Director Jiang, your magnanimity is truly admirable; I am deeply impressed. But there’s no need to apologize at all! You are our leader; whatever you ask us to do, we do, regardless of success or failure,” I chimed in, stepping closer.

“Indeed, you helped me yesterday. I remember,” Director Jiang glanced at me. Just as I felt a secret surge of satisfaction, he added, “But that is a personal debt, a favor I owe you, Jiang Haitao. We both made errors in our official duties.”

Hearing that, I thought, what kind of situation is this? Private matters are personal favors, but official duties resulted in mistakes. I can’t win either way! Then why did I have to open my mouth yesterday with such eager foolishness?

“Actually, yesterday I intended to invite the comrades from Team Four to research the case details together, but the outcome became what it was. I was too impulsive. Everyone must take me as a warning and avoid making the same mistake.”

In my view, Director Jiang wasn't entirely at fault yesterday. It was normal for him to ask Zhang Jiewei to gather Team Four for a meeting. Fu Zhen, on the other hand, was wrong to stir up trouble. But judging by Director Jiang's words now, it seemed he had received criticism from his superiors. It appeared Fu Zhen’s tongue was sharper than average, managing to twist right and wrong into knots. I needed to be far more cautious in the future and avoid crossing him.

Director Jiang had only come to address this matter. After speaking, he reverted to his usual manner, flinging the door open and leaving. I quickly hurried after him; I still had something to ask. His pace was quicker than most people’s. By the time I got out the door, he was nearly at the elevator. I called out, and he paused.

I rushed up to him. “Director Jiang, about that matter we discussed earlier, how many more days must I wait?”

He paused upon hearing that, then instantly remembered. “Wait another two days. The report has been filed. In about two days, that fellow should be mostly recovered and ready for questioning.”

“But let me warn you, this case has alarmed the higher-ups. You absolutely cannot afford any mistakes, or neither of us will escape unscathed.”

Director Jiang gestured upward with his finger. I knew he wasn't just pointing at the Bureau Chief, but at someone several levels higher. I quickly nodded. “Understood, understood. I still have that basic sense of organizational discipline.”

Among the three cases, mine remained the murder in the rental unit. Now that I had Jiang Bo’s statement, the next step was to verify every detail one by one. If any inconsistencies emerged, Jiang Bo’s suspicion would only grow stronger, and once a certain threshold was met, I could detain him.

Last night, I had planned to check out the night market stalls, but an emergency delayed me. Today, I absolutely had to go. It was still quite early, so I pulled out the recording of Jiang Bo from the rehab center and played it twice. After listening, I felt the kid either had everything pre-scripted, or he could be completely cleared. The results of my investigation would tell the tale.

Regarding his claim that he watched Xingguang Dadao on CCTV-3 that night, that has already been confirmed. The kid wasn't lying, because we pulled up the program video from that night’s broadcast online and heard the exact line he quoted. However, using television or movie plots to determine a lie is too cliché. There were five days between He Shuhua’s murder and Jiang Bo’s entry into rehab. In those five days, Jiang Bo could have easily found that night’s program video online and memorized a single detail. If he did that, it would imply he possessed extremely strong counter-surveillance capabilities.

Simultaneously, this reflects that investigation is something that must evolve with the times. Twenty years ago, without the internet, a criminal couldn't have done this. Now, they can. If investigators fail to grasp these new elements, they risk being deceived by criminals. From another angle, investigators must be craftier than the criminals. Of course, some traditional investigative methods will never become obsolete because they have nothing to do with technology.

After work, I grabbed a quick bite outside and then slowly drove towards Wanxiang Road. Dusk had fallen, coinciding with the peak traffic hours, so the roads were severely congested, and the sidewalks were crowded with people. Having finished their busy days, people were out shopping, relaxing, and enjoying themselves—a scene bursting with the vitality of everyday life.

I wasn't in a rush. Since the night market stalls usually operate until the early morning, I allowed my car to crawl forward with the traffic flow. After passing seven or eight sets of traffic lights, the road ahead began to clear up. I rolled down the window, letting the cool night breeze rush in, then lightly touched the accelerator, picking up speed. The dense shadows on both sides whizzed backward, and my mood eased slightly.

Arriving at Wanxiang Street, I parked the car and walked toward the rental building step by step. When I got there, the building stood there in silent solitude. Because of the murder that took place upstairs, many tenants had already moved out. Even the nearby buildings were affected; most people were gone, leaving only a few isolated lights. In the inky blackness of the night, these few windows glowing with white light seemed strangely unsettling.

I stood there, recalling the scene of finding the female corpse on the rooftop, and the hairs on my arms stood up. I hunched my neck, as if afraid something would bite me from behind. For some reason, my hand instinctively slipped into my pocket, pulling out a photograph—a picture of the rooftop victim when she was alive, which I carried for reference during interviews.

In the photograph, the deceased was young, beautiful, healthy, and full of life. Who would have imagined that in the blink of an eye, she would be murdered, her body chopped into more than a dozen pieces and hidden in white putty powder?

Perhaps due to returning to the location, the person in the photo seemed momentarily more vital, an inexplicable emotion flowing through her features. I stared intently, feeling a sudden chill. Then, the person in the photo suddenly raised her hand, her finger pointing directly at me.

I broke out in a cold sweat and quickly shoved the photo back into my pocket, looking around. I noticed that this area should have been quite lively; besides these connected buildings, the surrounding areas were still brightly lit.

I quickly left that spot and circled the vicinity, finding quite a number of night market stalls. Any street wide enough seemed to host a few stalls. It was going to be difficult to track down which stall He Shuhua had visited that fateful night among all of them.

Then I remembered: Jiang Bo had said He Shuhua went to buy him shredded pork noodles that evening. That narrowed the search radius a bit; He Shuhua certainly wouldn't have gone to a stall that didn't sell shredded pork noodles.

So, I stopped in front of one stall and asked the owner, “Do you have shredded pork noodles?”

The owner, a stout man, shook his head. “No, but I have rice vermicelli.”

“No vermicelli,” I replied, moving toward the next one.

I asked three stalls in a row, none of which sold shredded pork noodles. A tiny bit of excitement started to build in my heart. It looked like tonight I might actually find something.

Someone might ask why I was pleased after three consecutive stalls didn't sell shredded pork noodles. This is actually counter-intuitive: fewer places selling shredded pork noodles means they are easier to locate, and once found, it’s easier to determine which one the victim purchased from before she died. Since few people eat shredded pork noodles at night, not many stalls sell them. If someone did buy them, the vendor would likely have a clearer memory.

I approached another owner who had said they didn't sell shredded pork noodles. “Where sells shredded pork noodles?”

“Why the obsession with shredded pork noodles? Can’t you eat something else?” The owner genuinely thought I was a customer.

“I just really like shredded pork noodles. Just point me in a direction.”

“Over there,” the owner said, pointing his hand. “That place over there seems to have it.”

I looked and saw two night market stalls set up under the streetlamp. I quickly walked over and asked, “Do you have shredded pork noodles?”

“Yes, yes! How many bowls?” The owner was a woman, around thirty-seven or thirty-eight, but her skin was well-kept, though a bit oily.

I presented my identification. “I’m from the Municipal Public Security Bureau…”

Before I could finish, the woman shrieked, “What? Is running a stall illegal now? You don’t catch all those bad guys, you think you can eat me alive!”

I hadn't expected such a strong reaction. She must have had run-ins with the Urban Management Bureau or similar authorities before. I quickly said, “Sister, Sister, that’s not it at all. I just need to ask you a few things.”

“Noodles or not?” the owner suddenly interjected.

Seeing her demeanor, I realized if I didn't order, she wouldn't talk to me. And I was getting hungry anyway. “Alright, alright, one bowl, and put lots of chili oil in it.”

The proprietress immediately switched to a smiling expression while preparing the noodles. “You police officers really have it tough, being out investigating so late.”

I knew this type of woman was best placated, so I smiled. “We have no choice, Sister. Could you take a look at this photo and see if you recognize the woman?”

The proprietress glanced at it. “No impression. What happened to her? Is she missing? I heard a girl was killed up ahead. Is another one missing now? Ah, what a pity for the poor child. Her parents raised her for so long, and then she’s just gone without a trace. Ah!”

After she finished her lament, I prompted, “The noodles, please hurry. I need to continue searching after I eat.”

“Yes, yes, almost done! You really work hard, much better than those guys who just wander the streets all day. Our common folk really need people like you. This bowl of noodles is on me today, Officer!”

I was momentarily stunned. The proprietress laughed. “What, you think I can’t afford a bowl of noodles? Will one bowl bankrupt me?”

“No, no, thank you very much, Sister.”

This truly showed that genuine human kindness exists; the key is whether you encounter it.

In a short while, the shredded pork noodles were ready—a steaming hot bowl piled high with meat.

“Eat slowly, don’t rush. If you need more, I’ll make more,” the Sister’s words were very comforting.

Just then, four or five figures staggered into view. The Sister glanced from a distance and muttered under her breath, “It’s those annoying pests again. I’ll fight them today!”

I sensed trouble brewing and asked, “Sister, what’s going on?”

“Ah, it’s a bunch of thugs. They come out every night, demanding money from every vendor. If you refuse, they bring people to cause trouble. No one has done anything about it for so long. What kind of situation is this?”

I slapped the table. “This is outrageous! Sister, rest assured, with me here, let’s see if they dare make a move.”

“Oh dear, I forgot who you are, Brother. I thank you in advance. Next time you’re here, eat whatever you want, free of charge.”

“That won’t do. We have regulations.”

As we spoke, the thugs ambled over. One of them, with a tiger tattoo on his arm, demanded of the proprietress, “Have you decided about what we talked about yesterday?”

I sat there and said coldly, “I have decided.”

“Who are you?”

I pulled out my badge and tossed it onto the table. “See for yourself.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ saw that the situation wasn't right, but he couldn’t appear too timid in front of his cronies. He stepped forward and reached for the badge, but I caught his wrist in a swift grab, twisted, and pinned him down in front of the table with a small joint lock.

The others, seeing this, assumed I was hired muscle for the proprietress and immediately started shouting, “Which gang are you from? What’s your name?” Two of them looked eager to jump in and fight.

I barked suddenly, “You blind fools, do you need me to pull out my gun before you know who I am?”

The two men who were about to move instantly stopped and glanced at the badge on the table. They seemed startled, perhaps seeing the police insignia. One of them shouted, “He’s a cop! Run!”

In the blink of an eye, the group vanished, leaving only ‘Tiger Tattoo’ pinned under my control. Knowing I was a police officer, the guy dared not move, terrified I might shoot him over this petty matter.

Of course, I had no intention of shooting him over something this small; I was just scaring them off.

I glared at him with stern authority and commanded, “Remember this: if you cause any more of this rotten nonsense from now on, I will arrest you immediately. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, I won’t dare again,” this kid was just like Guangtou Qiang—pliable once caught.

“And relay this message to all your brothers. What kind of brotherhood is that? I think you should all disband sooner. You refuse to walk the right path and instead choose these crooked ways. Do you really think it’s easy to be a villain?”

After lecturing ‘Tiger Tattoo,’ I waved my hand. “Get lost now, don’t let me see you again.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ nodded and bowed repeatedly. “I’m leaving now.”

He had only taken two steps when I suddenly called out, “Come back.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ turned around fearfully, his face contorted in distress. “Big Brother, I was wrong, okay? Please don’t take me in.”

The proprietress interjected from the side, “If you knew this day would come, why bother in the first place? At such a good age, why not learn something instead of just freeloading? Do you think you’re doing right by your parents?”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ hastily agreed, “Yes, yes, I’ve wronged my parents. I deserve death, I will change, I absolutely must change!”

In fact, I hadn’t called him back to arrest him. It was because I remembered Jiang Bo saying he was somewhat famous in this area, known to most local thugs, and they even referred to He Shuhua as Sister-in-law.

“Stop faking it,” I said, reaching into my pocket for the photo.

This kid, ‘Tiger Tattoo,’ thought I was reaching for my gun. He promptly dropped to his knees and started kowtowing to me. “Boss, I truly know I was wrong! I’ll go back to school tomorrow and stop all this mess. Just let me go this once!”

Seeing his pathetic display, I felt both annoyed and amused. I pulled out the photo and placed it on the table. “I’ll let you off this once today. Come here, help me identify someone.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ profusely thanked me before stepping forward. The moment he saw the picture, the kid exclaimed, “Isn’t this Brother Jiang’s Sister-in-law? Oh, I know what happened to her a few days ago.”

It seemed Jiang Bo hadn't lied, at least not about this particular detail. I followed up, “Do you know which night market stall she usually patronized?”

“I know, I know.” This guy made a living collecting protection money, so he certainly knew every stall like the back of his hand.

A joy sparked in my heart—an unexpected windfall. “Take me there immediately.”

The proprietress said, “Brother, once you’re done, come back and sit for a while. Sister will cook you something nice.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ led me through several turns and stopped in front of a night market stall, pointing. “Sister-in-law often bought things right here.”

“Alright, you can go back now. Remember what I told you.”

“Yes, yes, I will certainly remember. I might forget what my parents told me, but I would never dare forget what you, Elder, told me.”

Watching ‘Tiger Tattoo’ bowing and scraping, I couldn't help but think of Guangtou Qiang again. It seemed he had found a successor. However, the public security in this area really needed reinforcement. I would have to write a report back to the bureau to increase night patrols here.

The owner of this night market stall was a young woman, looking only a few years older than me, perhaps similar in age to the victim, He Shuhua. That might be why she frequented this spot.

“Proprietress, do you know her?” I held up the photo.

“Who are you?”

“I’m from the Municipal Public Security Bureau.”

“Oh, please, sit down.” The proprietress quickly brought over a bowl of tea. “This is Shuhua. We were like sisters. I’m heartbroken knowing what happened to her. Officer, you must catch the murderer and avenge her!”

“We will do our utmost to solve the case, but we still need your support,” I replied.

“Tell me anything you need. As long as the murderer can be caught one day sooner, I will cooperate fully.”

“Last Wednesday night, did He Shuhua buy a bowl of shredded pork noodles from you?” Chapter Sixteen: Night Search for Traces

The dust of that recent upheaval finally settled, and it wasn't until late the following afternoon, just before closing time, that Director Jiang reappeared, summoning all of us back. The smoky residue of yesterday’s confrontation was gone from his face, but he was noticeably quieter, sitting there in silence, his gaze sweeping over each one of us in turn.

His steady stare made us all uneasy. I caught Gao Jianning’s eye and gave him a subtle nudge; with his unique standing, anything he said wouldn't draw too harsh a rebuke from Director Jiang.

Gao Jianning took the cue and stepped forward immediately. “Director Jiang, let the past be the past. We have so much bright future ahead of us.”

The moment I heard that, I knew it was bad—how could anyone speak to Director Jiang like that? It was practically a death wish.

Yet, Director Jiang seemed to have entirely forgotten the previous day’s events. His face darkened, and he snapped at Gao Jianning, “This doesn’t concern you. Get back to work.”

I quickly lowered my head. Though I had gathered my courage yesterday to defend him, my abilities proved lacking, and the defense failed. It was best to be discreet now.

Then, Director Jiang suddenly spoke: “Comrades.”

Hearing those three words, I knew we were in the clear. Those words signified that Director Jiang was now addressing the situation strictly from a professional standpoint, meaning his personal grievances with Fu Zhen had nothing to do with us anymore.

Director Jiang continued, “I sincerely apologize to everyone for yesterday’s incident. I hope you can all find it in your hearts to forgive me!”

We were all stunned, staring at him blankly. Was this truly Director Jiang?

Director Jiang cleared his throat twice. “What is this? Haven’t you ever seen me before?”

“Ah, Director Jiang, your magnanimity is truly admirable; I am deeply impressed. But there’s no need to apologize at all! You are our leader; whatever you ask us to do, we do, regardless of success or failure,” I chimed in, stepping closer.

“Indeed, you helped me yesterday. I remember,” Director Jiang glanced at me. Just as I felt a secret surge of satisfaction, he added, “But that is a personal debt, a favor I owe you, Jiang Haitao. We both made errors in our official duties.”

Hearing that, I thought, what kind of situation is this? Private matters are personal favors, but official duties resulted in mistakes. I can’t win either way! Then why did I have to open my mouth yesterday with such eager foolishness?

“Actually, yesterday I intended to invite the comrades from Team Four to research the case details together, but the outcome became what it was. I was too impulsive. Everyone must take me as a warning and avoid making the same mistake.”

In my estimation, Director Jiang wasn't entirely wrong yesterday; it was perfectly normal for him to call those four groups in for a meeting. It was Fu Zhen who overstepped when he escalated things, yet listening to Director Jiang now, it sounds like Fu Zhen actually received a reprimand from his superiors. It seems that Fu Zhen is exceptionally slick with his words, capable of twisting right and wrong, so I must tread carefully around him from now on, lest I cross his path.

Director Jiang’s visit was solely about this matter. After he finished speaking, he left as usual, slamming the door. I quickly chased after him; I still needed to ask him about something. His stride was quicker than most people’s; by the time I got out the door, he was almost at the elevator. I hurried and called out, and he stopped.

I ran up to him and asked, “Director Jiang, about that matter we discussed previously, how much longer must I wait?”

He paused upon hearing me, then remembered, replying, “Wait another two days. The report has already been submitted. I estimate that in two days, that fellow will have recovered enough, and we should be able to bring him in for questioning.”

“But let me warn you, this case has even alerted the higher-ups. Absolutely no mistakes can be made, or neither you nor I will escape unscathed.”

Director Jiang pointed upwards with his finger. I knew he wasn’t just referring to the Bureau Chief, but to someone several levels above, perhaps even higher. I quickly nodded: “Understood, understood. I still have that much sense of organizational discipline.”

Among the three cases, my main focus remains the homicide in the rental apartment. Now that I have Jiang Bo’s confession, the next step is to verify every detail. If I find any discrepancies, Jiang Bo’s suspicion increases, and once it reaches a certain threshold, I can detain him.

Last night, I had planned to investigate the night market stalls, but I was detained by other matters. Today, I absolutely have to go. It’s still quite early, so I took out the recording of Jiang Bo from the rehab center and played it twice more. After listening, I felt that either this kid had pre-planned everything, or he was completely cleared of suspicion. The results of my investigation will tell me which.

Regarding his claim that he watched Starlight Avenue on CCTV-3 that night, that has now been confirmed. The boy wasn't lying because we pulled up that night’s program video from the internet and heard the line he spoke. However, using TV or movie plots to determine if someone is lying is too cliché. There were five days between He Shuhua’s murder and Jiang Bo’s admittance to the rehab center. In those five days, Jiang Bo could easily have found that night’s program video online and memorized a small detail. If that’s the case, it means Jiang Bo possesses an extremely strong counter-surveillance capability.

This also indicates that investigation is something that must evolve with the times. Twenty years ago, without the internet, a criminal couldn't have done this, but now they can. If investigators fail to grasp these new methods, they risk being deceived by criminals. From another angle, investigators must be more cunning than the criminals. Of course, some traditional investigative methods will never become obsolete because they are unconnected to technology.

After work, I grabbed a quick bite outside and then slowly drove towards Wanxiang Road. It was dusk, the peak of rush hour, so the traffic was incredibly congested, and the sidewalks were packed with people coming and going. People were finished with their busy day and were starting to shop, socialize, and seek entertainment—a vibrant scene full of life.

I wasn't in a hurry, as the night market stalls usually don't get going until after midnight anyway. I proceeded slowly with the flow of traffic, passing seven or eight sets of traffic lights before the road ahead gradually began to clear. I rolled down my car window, letting the night breeze wash over me, then lightly tapped the accelerator, speeding up the car. The dense shadows on both sides flew backward rapidly, and my mood eased slightly.

Arriving at Wanxiang Street, I parked the car and walked toward the rental building step by step. When I got there, the building stood silently. Because of the homicide that occurred upstairs, many tenants had moved out. Even the surrounding blocks were affected; most people were gone, leaving only a few lonely lights. In the deep darkness of the night, these few windows glowing with white light seemed particularly eerie.

Standing there, remembering the scene of finding the female body on the rooftop, the hairs on my arms instantly stood up. I hunched my neck as if expecting something to bite me from behind. For some reason, my hand instinctively reached into my pocket, pulling out a photograph—a picture of the deceased woman when she was alive, which I carry for ease of inquiry.

In the photograph, the victim was young, beautiful, looked healthy, and full of vitality. But who would have thought that in the blink of an eye, she would be murdered and her body chopped into more than a dozen pieces and hidden in white putty?

Perhaps due to being back in that place, the person in the photo seemed to have gained a touch of life, a nameless emotion flowing through her features. I stared intently, feeling a chill. Suddenly, the person in the photo raised her hand, her fingers pointing straight at me.

I broke out in a cold sweat, quickly stuffing the photo back into my pocket, and looked around. I noticed that this area should have been quite bustling previously, as the neighboring buildings were brightly lit, unlike the few connected ones.

I quickly left that spot and circled the vicinity. I found quite a few night market stalls around. Anywhere the street widened slightly, there were bound to be several stalls. It looked like finding which stall He Shuhua visited that night would be genuinely difficult.

Then it struck me: Jiang Bo said He Shuhua went to buy him shredded pork noodles that night. This narrowed down the search radius considerably; He Shuhua certainly wouldn't go to a stall that didn't sell shredded pork noodles.

So, I approached one stall and asked the owner, “Do you have shredded pork noodles?”

The owner, a stout man, shook his head: “No, but I have rice noodles.”

“No rice noodles,” I said, and moved toward the next one.

I asked three consecutive stalls, and none sold shredded pork noodles. A small spark of joy began in my heart. It seemed tonight I might succeed.

Some might ask why I was happy that three stalls in a row didn't sell shredded pork noodles. This is counter-intuitive: fewer stalls selling shredded pork noodles means they are easier to locate, and once found, it’s easier to determine exactly which one the victim bought from. Because not many people eat shredded pork noodles at night, there aren’t many stalls selling them. If someone does come to buy, the seller is likely to have a more distinct memory.

I approached a vendor who had just said they didn't sell them and asked, “Where sells shredded pork noodles?”

“Why must you have shredded pork noodles? Can’t you eat something else?” The vendor actually treated me like a regular customer.

“I only like shredded pork noodles. Just point me to a place.”

“Over there,” the vendor said, pointing: “That one over there seems to have some.”

I looked and saw two night market stalls set up under the streetlights. I hurried over and asked, “Do you have shredded pork noodles?”

“Yes, yes, how many bowls?” The owner was a woman, looking about thirty-seven or thirty-eight, but her skin was well-maintained, just a bit oily.

I flashed my credentials: “I’m from the Municipal Public Security Bureau…”

Before I finished speaking, the woman shrieked: “What? Is it against the law for me to run a stall? You don’t catch all those bad guys, but you come after me! I bet you could just eat me up!”

I hadn't expected such a strong reaction. She must have had run-ins with the urban management or similar personnel before. I quickly said, “Sister, sister, that’s not it. I just need to ask you a few things.”

“Want noodles or not?” the owner suddenly asked.

Seeing the situation, I knew refusing meant she wouldn't talk to me. And I was a bit hungry anyway. So, I said, “Alright, alright, one bowl, with extra chili oil.”

The proprietress instantly changed her expression to a smile. While preparing the noodles, she said, “You officers really have it tough, investigating this late at night.”

I knew this type of woman was best placated, so I smiled: “Can’t be helped, Sister. Could you take a look at this woman in the photo and see if you recognize her?”

The proprietress glanced at it: “No impression. What happened to her? Did she go missing? I heard a girl was killed up ahead; has another one disappeared? Ah, what a pitiful child. Her parents raised her for so long, only for her to vanish without a sound!”

After she finished her monologue, I said, “The noodles, please hurry. I need to keep searching after I eat.”

“Oh, okay, okay, almost ready. You really do work hard, much better than those guys who just wander the streets all day. We ordinary folks need people like you! This bowl of noodles is on me, Big Sister!”

I was momentarily stunned. The proprietress laughed: “What, you think Big Sister can’t afford a bowl of noodles? Will it bankrupt me?”

“No, no, thank you very much, Sister.”

It truly is true that there is genuine kindness in the world, provided you happen to encounter it.

In a short while, the shredded pork noodles were ready—a large, steaming bowl covered with plenty of meat.

“Eat slowly, don’t rush. If it’s not enough, I’ll make you more,” the Sister’s words were very warm.

Just then, four or five figures shuffled into view. The Sister took a quick look and cursed under her breath: “It’s those annoying guys again. I’m going to fight them today!”

Hearing the tone shift, I asked, “Sister, what’s going on?”

“Oh, it’s a gang of hoodlums. They come out every night, shake people down for money, and if you don’t pay, they bring people over to cause trouble. Nobody has dealt with them for so long. What’s the meaning of this?”

I slammed the table: “They’ve really gotten out of hand! Don’t worry, Sister, since I’m here, let’s see if they dare to move.”

“Oh my, I forgot who you are, Brother. Sister thanks you in advance. Come by anytime, and you can eat for free.”

“That won’t do. We have rules to follow.”

As we were talking, the thugs sauntered up to our table. One of them, with a tiger tattooed on his arm, barked at the proprietress: “Have you decided about what we talked about yesterday?”

I sat there coldly and said, “I have decided.”

“Who are you?”

I took out my credentials and tossed them onto the table: “See for yourself.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ saw the situation was tense, but he couldn’t look too timid in front of his buddies. He stepped forward, reaching for the ID, but I caught his wrist in return, executed a small joint lock, and pinned him down in front of the table.

Seeing this, the others thought I was muscle hired by the proprietress and immediately started yelling: “Which racket are you from? What’s your name?” Two of them looked ready to fight.

I roared: “A few blind idiots! Do you need me to pull out my gun before you realize who I am?”

The two who were about to move immediately stopped and glanced at the ID on the table. Perhaps seeing the police badge, they jumped. One of them yelled: “He’s a cop! Run!”

In a flash, the group was gone, leaving only ‘Tiger Tattoo’ pinned by me. Knowing I was a cop, the guy didn't dare move, terrified I might shoot him over such a small matter.

Of course, I wouldn’t really shoot him over this; I was just trying to scare them.

I sternly warned him: “You remember this: if you cause any more of this nonsense from now on, I’ll throw you straight in jail. Hear me?”

“Yes, yes, I won’t dare again.” This kid was just like Bald Qiang—docile once caught.

“And tell your buddies the same thing. What kind of brotherhood is that? I think you should all break up. There are so many legitimate paths, but you insist on these crooked ways. Do you really think it’s easy to be a villain?”

After scolding ‘Tiger Tattoo,’ I waved my hand: “Get lost, don't let me see you again.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ bowed and scraped: “Leaving now.”

He had taken two steps when I suddenly called out: “Come back.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ turned around fearfully, his face full of misery: “Big Brother, I was wrong, okay? Just please don’t arrest me.”

The proprietress interjected: “If you knew this would happen, why did you start? At such a young age, not learning anything, just freeloading and drinking—are you honoring your parents?”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ quickly chimed in: “Yes, yes, I’ve failed my parents, I deserve to die, I will change, I must change!”

Actually, the reason I called him back wasn’t to arrest him, but because I remembered Jiang Bo saying he had some local notoriety, and most small-time hoodlums recognized him. They even referred to He Shuhua as his sister-in-law.

“Stop faking it,” I said, reaching into my pocket for the photo.

The kid thought I was reaching for a gun and immediately dropped to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly: “Boss, I really was wrong. I’ll go to school tomorrow, I won’t do this anymore, please just let me go this once!”

Seeing his pathetic state, I felt both annoyed and amused. I took out the photo and placed it on the table: “I’ll let you off this time. Come here, help me identify someone.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ offered profuse thanks before stepping forward. The moment he saw the picture, he immediately exclaimed, “Isn’t this Sister-in-law Jiang Bo? Oh, I know what happened to her a few days ago.”

It seemed Jiang Bo wasn't lying, at least not about this detail. I then asked, “Do you know which night market stalls she usually bought things from?”

“I know, I know.” This guy survived by collecting protection money, so he certainly knew every vendor like the back of his hand.

A surge of joy hit me; it was an unexpected windfall. I immediately commanded: “Take me there right now.”

The proprietress said, “Brother, come back after you’re done, Big Sister will make you something good.”

‘Tiger Tattoo’ led me through a few turns to a night market stall and pointed: “Sister-in-law often bought things right here.”

“Alright, you can go back now. Remember what I told you.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll certainly remember. I might forget what my parents said, but I’d never dare forget what you, an elder, told me.”

Watching ‘Tiger Tattoo’ bowing and scraping, I was reminded of Bald Qiang again; it seemed he had successors. However, the security here truly needed strengthening. I would have to write a report to the Bureau later to increase night patrols in this area.

The owner of this night market stall was a young woman, looking only a few years older than me, similar in age to the deceased He Shuhua, which might explain why she frequented this spot.

“Proprietress, do you recognize her?” I showed her the photo.

“And you are?”

“I’m from the Municipal Public Security Bureau.”

“Oh, please, have a seat.” The proprietress quickly brought over a bowl of tea before saying, “This is Shuhua. We were like sisters. I’m heartbroken knowing what happened to her. Officer, you must catch the killer and avenge her!”

“We will do our utmost to solve the case, but we still need your support.”

“Tell me anything you need. As long as the killer is caught one day sooner, I will cooperate fully.”

“Last Wednesday night, did He Shuhua buy a bowl of shredded pork noodles from you?”