Chapter 168: The Plastic Surgery Clinic

We exchanged glances—clearly, I had asked the right question.

Wu Li frowned in confusion. "What does plastic surgery have to do with Xu Xiaohui's death? She was naturally beautiful, she didn't need any work done."

I asked, "What's the name of the guy who runs that clinic?"

"His name's Kong Hui," Wu Li replied. "We heard he's now a professional plastic surgeon. A lot of girls are talking about getting minor procedures from him. He even gave out business cards. I still have one—let me find it for you."

She rummaged through her purse and handed us a sleek card. It read: Aili Aesthetic Clinic – Dr. Kong Hui. I remembered this clinic being on the list of five we had earlier—this Kong Hui just became a prime suspect.

I hadn't expected the lead to fall into our hands so easily.

Huang Xiaotao asked, "Did Kong Hui have any kind of special relationship with Xu Xiaohui?"

Wu Li laughed. "Special? You should've seen Kong Hui back in school—short, dark-skinned, plain-looking, and his family was dirt poor. I heard his father was even in prison. The guy was full of insecurities. But wow, what a glow-up! Now he's one of the most successful among our classmates. Owns his own clinic, drives a BMW. I think he even had surgery himself—he looks pretty sharp these days. Total eligible bachelor material. Funny thing is, Xu Xiaohui once turned him down."

Huang Xiaotao looked stunned. "She did?"

Wu Li took a sip of coffee and nodded. "Yeah, it's ancient history. Kong Hui wrote her love letters—dozens of them. But there was no way Xu Xiaohui would be into him back then. I remember one year on May 20th, he made a heart shape with candles under our dorm building to confess his love. The lights were already out, and someone—don't know who—dumped a bucket of cold water on him from upstairs. He never brought it up again after that."

...

...

Huang Xiaotao continued, "Did they interact at the class reunion?"

"I'm not sure," Wu Li said, then lowered her voice. "Officer, I've told you so much already… can you tell me if Kong Hui has something to do with Xu Xiaohui's death?"

Huang Xiaotao said calmly, "Why? Are you involved too?"

Wu Li paled instantly. "No, no! I had nothing to do with it. We were good friends—I'd never hurt her!"

Huang Xiaotao smiled. "Don't jump to conclusions. And don't go spreading rumors. Thanks for your cooperation."

She had only said that to spook Wu Li into silence. The girl was clearly a gossip.

After leaving the café, the four of us drove straight to Aili Aesthetic Clinic. At the front desk, we were told that Director Kong was currently in surgery. We waited for over thirty minutes until finally a man in a white coat emerged from the operating room with a patient whose face was wrapped in gauze.

Wang Dali stuck out his tongue. "Man, plastic surgery gives me the creeps."

"Shut up if you can't say anything useful," Huang Xiaotao snapped. Then she approached the man. "Are you the director of this clinic?"

He nodded, then gave her a once-over and smirked. "Yes. Are you here for a consultation? Looking to get some enhancements or maybe a little liposuction?"

Huang Xiaotao flipped out her badge.

I watched closely. The moment he saw the police credentials, his pupils contracted slightly. Bingo.

Huang Xiaotao began firing off questions—Did he know Xu Xiaohui? Did they talk during the reunion on November 3rd?

Kong Hui gave a relaxed smile. "It's been ten years, of course we chatted a bit. Just normal stuff—nothing important."

He was calm on the outside, but his hands betrayed him. A vein on the back of his hand was throbbing—his heart rate was elevated. He was nervous.

Huang Xiaotao followed up. "Where were you from November 6th to the 13th?"

"Same as usual. Working during the day, home at night. Officer, why all these questions? Did something happen to Xu Xiaohui?"

Just as she was about to answer, I interjected, "She's… in critical condition."

Of course, she was already dead. But I wanted to throw him off. And it worked—Kong Hui flinched. "Was it a car accident?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Shouldn't you know?"

His expression darkened. "What are you suggesting? I had nothing to do with it."

I held his gaze, just like Wang Yuanchao taught me. Guilty people always avoid eye contact—and Kong Hui couldn't hold mine.

"Fine," I said. "Once she wakes up, we'll know more."

Sweat began to bead on his nose and forehead.

Huang Xiaotao asked, "Director Kong, mind if we take a quick look at the operating room?"

Kong Hui hesitated. "The room hasn't been fully disinfected yet—it's not sanitary."

"It's not like this is a hospital for infectious diseases," Huang Xiaotao replied, unfazed.

We entered the operating room. I asked Wang Dali to grab the forensic umbrella from the car. The walls were stark white, the lower half tiled, a surgical bed beneath a spotlight in the center, surrounded by a privacy curtain.

I closed the door, opened the window, and began scanning the room. A procedure of this scale would've left traces. But the place was spotless—nothing suspicious.

"This probably isn't the crime scene," I said.

"Agreed," Huang Xiaotao nodded. "This clinic's doing great business. As the director, Kong Hui wouldn't risk doing something here with so many staff around."

We already assumed Kong Hui was our killer. Just like Grandpa used to say: the more elaborate the crime, the easier it is to crack. If Kong Hui had used some mundane method instead of flaunting his skills like a maniac, we might've spent days chasing shadows. But he just had to show off—classic case of self-sabotage.

Wang Dali chimed in, "Want me to bring him in?"

"Not yet," Huang Xiaotao replied firmly. "We can't make an arrest without solid evidence. No need to tip him off."

As we left, Huang Xiaotao even made some polite remarks to Kong Hui, as if she suspected nothing at all. That's the thing about good cops—the more they want to catch you, the more they act like you're free to go.

No matter how smart or stupid a killer is, they all share one thing in common: they think they can get away with it.

Outside the clinic, I looked at the crowd of stylish young women passing by and turned to Wang Dali.

"I'm giving you a special assignment," I said. "It involves talking to girls—good chance to sharpen your flirting skills."

Wang Dali's eyes lit up. "Seriously? I'm in!"

We headed back, leaving him behind to work his "magic."

Meanwhile, one of Huang Xiaotao's officers brought in a pig farmer who had apparently transported Xu Xiaohui's body to the slaughterhouse. During questioning, he insisted he'd simply picked up a stray pig on the roadside, thinking he'd lucked into a small fortune.

The man was a simple, honest farmer, visibly shaken. "Officers… if my pig did something bad, how much do I have to pay?"

Huang Xiaotao reassured him, "You're not in trouble. You're free to go."

Around noon, she ordered takeout and gathered the task force for lunch. Just as we were finishing up, Wang Dali came back.

His eyes were red, and he looked like he'd been crying.

I asked, "Wang Dali, what happened to your eyes?"

He growled, "Don't act like you don't know! That 'special assignment' of yours got me sprayed with pepper spray!"