Chapter 141: The Fourth Victim

My eyes landed on the business card. I turned to Huang Xiaotao and said, "You handle the overt side, I'll work in the shadows."

Then I called Lao Yao. Like me, he's now a consultant for the police department—his role is a tech advisor. He complained about always lugging equipment around, so he prefers to work from his dorm.

I gave him a rough rundown of the case. Lao Yao listened carefully, then asked casually, "How handsome is Dr. Cheng?"

I nearly spat out my drink, forgetting he had that kind of taste. I shot back, "Not as handsome as you!"

He chuckled for a good while before saying, "Song Song, your compliments just keep getting sweeter. You're making me blush. So, what do you need me to do?"

I read him the email address on the card and asked him to dig through the inbox. Hacking and account tracing was Lao Yao's specialty. He cut straight to the point: "What's the pay?"

I replied, "You're a police consultant now—what pay do you want?"

"You can't just hand me some lame ID and expect me to work for free. Last time, I nearly risked my life and didn't get a dime!" Lao Yao complained.

Although the Li Wenjia case had been solved, many officers sacrificed a lot, so there was no award ceremony, only a solemn memorial. Naturally, no bonus was given. I thought Lao Yao was just a money grubber—no cash, no work.

...

Huang Xiaotao snatched the phone and said, "Lao Yao, how's that French skincare oil I gave you last time?"

On the other end, Lao Yao gushed, "It's amazing! My skin got whiter and smoother. People keep turning their heads when I walk down the street. Sister Xiao Tao, send me more bottles!"

Xiaotao smiled and said, "That oil is limited edition—I could only get you one bottle. I'll get you a New Zealand hand cream next time. A customs friend confiscated it from smugglers. It's the real deal, worth 500 euros. How's that?"

Lao Yao immediately replied, "Great, great! Sister Xiao Tao, you're the best. Love you! Mwah!"

She handed the phone back to me, grinning proudly. "Asking for money while digging for info? That's how you handle a money-grubber!"

I admired her—her New Zealand hand cream was probably some cheap night market find. It was the perfect antidote to Lao Yao's greed. Xiaotao was definitely his nemesis.

She drove us back. On the way, Sun Bingxin got off to return to school, reminding us repeatedly not to forget to call her if the case progressed. Once she left, Xiaotao snorted and said to me, "You better watch your manners, punk!"

I said, "Don't get the wrong idea—I'm just friends with her."

"No, what I mean is she's the director's daughter. You can't let her get into any danger, or how do you explain it to Old Tiger Sun?"

I swore, "Just this one case. For the next one, I definitely won't involve her."

Xiaotao's face turned icy as she gripped the steering wheel. "Hmph. Just a few days not watching you and you've gone and found a childhood sweetheart. One day, I'm gonna buy you a dog leash and tie you up."

I said, "Damn, you're not serious? You're not into that S&M stuff, right?"

Wang Dali and I got back to school. The next day, Lao Yao sent some findings to my inbox. Seeing the lead was important, I forwarded it to Xiaotao. She replied on QQ, "Lao Yao's done well! Can he check the sender?"

The email was anonymous, apparently from a woman writing to Cheng Yahui. It said just a few words: she was pregnant and wanted Cheng to take responsibility.

This could be the motive for the murders. Cheng Yahui must've been terrified of scandal and killed every woman he slept with. If that's true, the guy is seriously deranged!

I asked Lao Yao if he could track the sender, but he said no. The account was newly created with fake info.

I relayed this to Xiaotao but got no reply—probably busy again. With some free time, I decided to play a round of League of Legends. Then Sun Bingxin messaged: "Brother Song Yang, your friend is so annoying! He's been pestering me since last night—I can't even study!"

No wonder Wang Dali hadn't gotten out of bed since last night, just staring at his phone and grinning like an idiot. I yelled, "Wang Dali, what are you doing?"

He popped his head out: "Just chatting with Sun Bingxin. I'm pretty sure she likes me!"

"Have some shame! She's complaining to me that you're bothering her, and she likes you!" I scolded.

"No way!"

Wang Dali hurriedly got out of bed. After seeing Bingxin's message to me, he sighed dramatically, "So I've been deluding myself this whole time!"

Curious, I asked what he'd been sending her, but he refused to show me his phone. I gave up and decided to ask Bingxin for the chat logs.

Wang Dali said, "Yangzi, you better help me out here. I'm actually helping you."

"How are you helping me?" I asked, confused.

He explained, "If you and Sun Bingxin get together, you know how ugly Sister Xiao Tao's face gets. As your bro, I have to sacrifice myself, win Bingxin's heart, and clear your name!"

I laughed, "You're such a good guy."

He replied, "Then tell me what Bingxin likes, her hobbies, birthday, anything."

I thought for a moment: "Nothing special. She likes listening to me tell stories about our ancestor Song Ci solving cases."

Wang Dali quickly said, "I gotta binge-watch 'Detective Di Renjie' then!" Soon his phone played the show's theme song. That kid really was dedicated.

I played some League with Lao Yao until night, ordered takeout, and enjoyed my idle senior year life.

The next morning, Huang Xiaotao called urgently: "Song Yang, get over here. Another victim has appeared!"

I perked up, shook Wang Dali awake, grabbed my gear, and we headed out.

Xiaotao always kept her word—she notified Sun Bingxin, too. We met her at the police station. She was carrying a small box.

"What's that?" I asked.

She smiled, "My secret weapon!"

It was morning rush hour. As we entered the station, Bingxin stuck close behind me, nervous about bumping into Old Tiger Sun. Wang Dali patted his own shoulder and said, "Bingxin, hide behind me. My shoulders are broader than Yangzi's!"

Bingxin pulled a funny face, "No way! Only Brother Song Yang can call me Bingxin!"

Wang Dali looked hurt.

At the morgue entrance, Huang Xiaotao waited for us and grinned: "So proactive! As soon as it's time for the autopsy, you're all here. If all college students were like you, our great nation's revival would be assured."

We entered the morgue. Just like the previous three cases, the victim was a young, beautiful woman—a bank clerk, 27 years old. She lay peacefully on the slab, wearing light makeup, as if asleep.

Preliminary analysis estimated her time of death as the night before last. She usually frequented nightclubs after work. The night before, she'd drunk too much at a bar and fallen asleep on the counter. When the bar closed at 2 a.m., the staff tried to wake her and accidentally pushed her over. She was already lifeless.