Chapter 90: The Hidden Underground Chamber

At noon, Huang Xiaotao ordered lunch boxes for everyone. Wang Dali, who had been glued to the surveillance videos all morning, excitedly said, "Lunch is here!"

I shot him a glare. Didn't he have any sense of timing?

The lunch boxes contained curry pork cutlet rice and teriyaki chicken rice—very tasty. Each box cost over twenty yuan. I thought to myself, Huang Xiaotao really didn't mind spending money.

After we finished eating, the police officer sent to check the license plate returned. "We found it. The owner is an independent towel wholesaler."

The whole team's eyes lit up. After the case had been stuck in a deadlock, this new lead felt like a fresh spring pouring into a stagnant pond. Everyone was naturally thrilled.

When I heard which neighborhood the owner lived in, something clicked—it was the same community where Master Tang, the steamed bun vendor, lived!

Huang Xiaotao said, "Don't get too excited yet. The owner's just the registered car owner, not necessarily involved. Song Yang, let's go check things out."

Wang Dali eagerly chimed in, "Xiaotao sister, I want to come too."

"No need for three of us. You stay and keep watching the videos."

...

Wang Dali looked a bit reluctant but obeyed under Huang Xiaotao's firm command. Huang Xiaotao and I left the police station. She stretched her neck and said, "Staring at screens all morning, my neck is stiff. It's good to get some fresh air."

I smiled, "You sure know how to abuse your power."

"So what? At least I'm bringing you along. You should be grateful!" Huang Xiaotao winked.

We drove to the neighborhood and asked the property management for the owner's apartment. The owner was a middle-aged man. Huang Xiaotao asked if he had ever lent the car to anyone. He said never.

She then asked if he had been to a certain neighborhood late at night on a certain date. He also said no.

I observed him closely—he was telling the truth.

Huang Xiaotao frowned. "So did someone steal your car?"

The man replied, "No, it's always parked in the lot. What exactly are you investigating? I've got deliveries to make this afternoon!"

I asked, "What's your license plate number?"

He casually gave a number that didn't match ours. Turns out, he owned two cars. The old one, which was the one we tracked, had broken down and was left in the parking lot near the community. He hadn't cared about it for a long time.

Huang Xiaotao told him to take us to see it. We went to the parking lot, walked to the back, but found a different car parked there. He scratched his head, "Hey, where's my car?"

"Looks like it's been stolen," Huang Xiaotao sighed.

The man was surprisingly nonchalant. "No big deal. That car's been with me for twenty years—I was going to get rid of it anyway. This thief did me a favor. No need to report it, officer."

Huang Xiaotao glared at him. "Alright, you can go now."

After he left, Huang Xiaotao gave me a wry smile. "See? I knew it wouldn't be that easy."

"Why would the killer steal the car here?" I asked.

"Most likely Ma Jinhuo frequents this area and noticed the old car long ago. That van probably has no alarm system. Oh, and it's probably been to a repair shop. Maybe we should check that out?" Huang Xiaotao had an idea.

"Sounds good."

I agreed but my eyes drifted toward Master Tang's steamed bun shop, which was still closed.

Huang Xiaotao asked what I was thinking.

I said, "Why do I feel like everything that's happened so far somehow connects back to Master Tang, but the suspect Ma Jinhuo is like a ghost, always slipping through our fingers?"

"You said he didn't lie, so maybe you're reading him wrong?" Huang Xiaotao stopped walking.

"My eyes are like a high-precision lie detector—they catch microexpressions, subtle changes in facial pores and blood vessels when someone lies. But there's an exception—people with exceptional mental control can lie without emotional changes. I've heard special forces are trained to fool even polygraphs and truth serums." I explained.

"Master Tang's just a timid little guy, not some super spy," Huang Xiaotao scoffed.

"Honestly, I think so too..." I admitted.

Huang Xiaotao patted my shoulder. "Well, since we're here, let's see him again. No mercy this time. Ask more questions—maybe we missed something."

"Alright."

We knocked on Master Tang's door but no one answered. Huang Xiaotao called the nearby stakeout officers to check if he had left. They said he was home all along.

No matter how much we knocked, no answer. Huang Xiaotao handed me two hairpins. "Come on, Detective Song, time to show off your skills."

"Breaking and entering? Not sure if this is a good idea..." I hesitated.

"No worries, I've got your back!" Huang Xiaotao confidently patted her chest.

In ten seconds, I'd picked the lock. But the place was empty. Huang Xiaotao immediately called the stakeout team, scolding them for losing track of their target. If a grown man left the shop, two cops couldn't keep an eye on him?

"We're on it!" came the reply.

I spotted two men get out of a black car across the street and split up.

I paced around the shop, using my 'Eerie Vision' to examine everything carefully. Flour was scattered on the cutting board, along with a freshly kneaded dough ball and a bucket of mixed meat filling. The lights were all on.

Looks like Master Tang was preparing to steam buns. So where was he? The shop had no other exits—did he just vanish into thin air?

Huang Xiaotao said, "He's not here. No point waiting around. Let's go back."

"Wait!"

My gaze dropped to the floor beside the cutting board, where two straight marks ran across the scattered flour. Huang Xiaotao looked over, frowning, "What's that?"

I looked up and saw a large freezer nearby. It clicked: "Someone just dragged the freezer."

"Could there be a secret door underneath?" Huang Xiaotao said excitedly.

"Let's move it and see."

Together, we pushed the freezer aside. Underneath was a large iron door. We exchanged stunned looks. I pulled it open and found a stairway leading down. A cold, damp air rose from below.

"It's an air raid shelter," I said.

"Why would a steamed bun shop have an air raid shelter beneath it?" Huang Xiaotao asked in surprise.

I glanced around, noticing faded slogans on the mottled lime walls, probably from the 1970s. "This used to be a warehouse. Back when China and the Soviet Union broke off relations, and the Soviets threatened nuclear strikes, the government ordered 'digging deep holes and stockpiling grain.' Many cities built air raid shelters, many still remain today."

"So, do we go down?" Huang Xiaotao asked.

"Definitely."

I had a strong feeling something important was hidden down there.