Before starting to review the surveillance footage, Jiang Yingyao shared some additional information uncovered during the investigation.
Jiang Yingyao said, "While investigating Luo Deye, we discovered something unusual regarding his son, who was studying abroad."
Guan Xia, who had been intently observing Wang Yu's movements, was immediately drawn in by this revelation and looked up.
Pang Le, too, lost interest in her meal and exclaimed in surprise, "Wow, more and more people are getting dragged into this. What’s the deal with Luo Deye’s son? Is he another opportunistic villain like his father?"
Jiang Yingyao shook his head. "Not quite. We found that in late July 2023, Luo Deye’s son abruptly returned to his study abroad city earlier than usual. Normally, especially during summer breaks, he would stay in the country for about two months until the vacation ended. But last year, he left after less than a month. We also uncovered his hospitalization records from late July—the reason was trauma-related injuries."
"Trauma?" Guan Xia caught Jiang Yingyao’s implication and immediately tried connecting it to Meng Lan’s accident. After a few minutes of thought, she tentatively asked, "Are you suggesting Luo Deye’s son left early because his life was threatened—maybe kidnapped or deliberately harmed?"
Jiang Yingyao nodded. "We spoke to his attending physician. Upon admission, he had three wounds: one on the back of his head, one on his left wrist, and another on his lower right abdomen. Though they appeared serious, they were all minor injuries. The doctor wanted to report it to the police per hospital protocol, but Luo Deye intervened, claiming his son had attempted suicide over money and that he had to knock him out to stop him. However, based on our findings, Luo Deye doted on his son, providing him with ample financial support. It’s unlikely such an incident would occur over money."
"So Luo Deye was being threatened," Pang Le followed the logic, instinctively glancing at Guan Xia. She opened her mouth as if to say something but ultimately held back.
Yet Guan Xia understood her unspoken words. Meng Lan’s accident had occurred on July 12, 2023, while Luo Deye’s son was hospitalized in late July. The connection was hard to ignore. Guan Xia instinctively pieced it together: Luo Deye had likely used the construction materials issue to threaten Meng Lan, trying to extort and control her as before, but Meng Lan turned the tables by targeting his beloved son instead.
While Guan Xia easily connected these events, she struggled to reconcile them with her memories of Meng Lan. She even found herself questioning whether the Meng Lan she grew up with would ever handle things this way.
Before Guan Xia could reach a conclusion, Pang Le suddenly asked, "By the way, you’ve investigated Meng Lan’s parents, brother, and even her father’s business partners. But what about her sister? As the only one completely unaffected in the accident, does she have any unusual circumstances?"
Wang Yu, remembering Guan Xia’s eagerness to review the footage, had already set up the computer and stepped aside. Sitting down, he said, "We did. Over the past few days, we’ve dug deep into Meng Lan’s relatives. From what we found, her sister wasn’t close to her parents or brother due to their favoritism toward the son, but before turning 25, she maintained normal family ties—at least visiting during holidays. After 25, though, she suddenly cut off contact. We also discovered that the same year she stopped returning home, even for Mid-Autumn Festival, she received a large sum of money from her family, which she used to start her own business."
Guan Xia, who had just sat down at the computer, exchanged a glance with Pang Le. A disturbing thought crossed both their minds, and seeing the same expression on each other’s faces, Guan Xia felt a wave of nausea.
"That’s just sick," Pang Le grimaced in disgust. "What kind of trash are these people? I know it’s disrespectful to speak ill of the dead, but honestly, good riddance. They were a waste of oxygen. And Luo Deye—why didn’t he die too? If he had, the air quality in Linshan City might’ve improved."
Guan Xia silently agreed, nodding in shared revulsion.
Suppressing her disgust and the urge to reach out to Meng Lan, Guan Xia opened the surveillance footage and began scrutinizing it carefully.
The review lasted until the next afternoon. As Wang Yu had predicted, nothing conclusive was found. Despite the park’s high-definition cameras and their unwavering focus, not a single visitor showed any connection to the "Judgment Angel." Even Guan Xia’s intuition remained untriggered. Though a few individuals weren’t fully captured on camera, Guan Xia felt somewhat relieved—at least there was a decent chance the middle-aged woman who spoke to Meng Lan was just a kind passerby.
Checking the time, Pang Le yawned widely and rubbed her eyes. "Since joining you guys on these cases, I’ve realized one thing—cops must have superhuman eyesight. If you had to watch surveillance like this for every case, anyone would go blind."
Jiang Yingyao, applying eye drops, chuckled. "It wasn’t always like this. When I first became a cop, we didn’t have advanced surveillance systems. Back then, it was all about legwork. I remember my first homicide case—the forensic expert from the provincial bureau spent half an hour comparing fingerprints under a magnifying glass. Now that was eye strain. When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot."
As they chatted, the group took turns with the eye drops. Pang Le tilted her head back, keeping her eyes shut to let the drops settle, and casually asked, "I’ve been thinking—we’ve pretty much pieced together the truth behind Meng Lan’s accident. The motives and sequence of events are clear. But where do we go from here? I can’t even imagine how to prove it wasn’t an accident. Sure, Meng Lan had motive, but the footage shows zero evidence contradicting the accident theory. There are doubts, but like you said—no hard proof."
Guan Xia was wiping the artificial tears from her cheeks with a tissue when Pang Le's words prompted her to silently review all the information they had gathered so far.
Pang Le was right. Although they had pieced together the truth and fully analyzed Meng Lan's motive for murder, the glaring lack of evidence in the surveillance footage undeniably proved her innocence. Yet, those very recordings had led Guan Xia to another unsettling suspicion.
She still remembered the venomous, obsessive tone in Meng Lan's voice when they had reconnected through her assistant at the kindergarten. Back then, Guan Xia hadn’t understood it. But now, armed with the secrets Meng Lan had buried, she realized the source of that bitterness—a heart shattered by the destruction of her longing for familial love. Meng Lan had every reason to kill, yet in the end, she had given her parents a choice.
Guan Xia couldn’t fathom how Meng Lan had done it—how she had concealed all her darkness, presenting only her fragile hope for acceptance.
She suspected that if Meng Lan’s parents hadn’t been so eager to force alcohol down her throat, so quick to sell their own daughter, Meng Lan might have aborted the plan before it culminated in three deaths and one critically injured.
Guan Xia’s mind circled back to the memory of Meng Lan staggering toward the door, unsteady on her feet. What had she been thinking in that moment? What turmoil had driven her to devise such a scheme? On the surface, it seemed like a calculated act of vengeance, but in truth, Meng Lan had gambled with her own life. In such peril, survival was never guaranteed.
Her thoughts racing, Guan Xia arrived at a conclusion that left her with a tangled mix of emotions—something between sorrow and relief. Yet no matter how logically her theory fit, it remained just that: a theory. As Pang Le had pointed out, they had no evidence. The surveillance footage, usually their most reliable tool, had only cemented Meng Lan’s alibi.
Pang Le’s question hung in the air, unanswered. Despite the several people crowded in Wang Yu’s room, the silence was suffocating. Minutes passed before Jiang Yingyao finally spoke. "We can keep digging, but with the current leads, it’s nearly impossible to prove this was premeditated murder—unless we get a confession from Meng Lan herself."
At his words, the others instinctively turned to Guan Xia.
She stared blankly at the crumpled tissue in her hand. Even without thinking, she knew the truth: no matter how close they had once been, Meng Lan would never confess to her. If she had been willing to speak openly, they wouldn’t have lost contact for years.
Still, before leaving Linshan City, Guan Xia had reached out to Meng Lan one last time—not to interrogate her, but to talk. She wanted to ask if Meng Lan regretted ever finding her birth parents.
But fate had other plans. Meng Lan answered the call, only to say she was away on business and wouldn’t return anytime soon. With so much left unsaid, Guan Xia swallowed her questions and simply smiled, offering a few words of care before hanging up.
By the time she returned to Yongquan City, it was already July 9th. The height of summer had arrived, and even nestled against the Cuiping Mountains, the temperature soared close to 40 degrees.
Exhausted from days of relentless work and drained by the heat, Guan Xia slipped into lethargy. She moved through the days in a haze—sleeping, eating, repeating—even abandoning her morning runs in favor of treadmill sessions under the cool blast of air conditioning.
When mid-July arrived, a heavy rain finally brought some relief from the sweltering heat. Guan Xia checked the calendar and decided it was time to get back to work. After all this time, whatever momentum she’d had before was surely fading.
But before she could call Ji An, his name flashed on her phone. His voice was urgent before she could even greet him. "Guan Xia, are you free? We need your help with a case."
Her stomach dropped. She bolted upright from her reclined position. "Yes, of course. What kind of case? Another cold one?"
Her first thought was that it must be like the cases Ji An and Lu Tingfeng had pursued so doggedly they’d left the police force for them.
Ji An confirmed it. "A friend’s case. It was cold, but a new clue surfaced just days ago—another victim, murdered five years after the last. We think the killer resurfaced now because something changed in his life. If we’re right, he’ll strike again soon. This might be our best chance to catch him."
The weight of his words pressed down on her shoulders like a mountain. Swallowing her unease, she asked, "Where’s the case? When do we leave? Now?"
"Jianyang City," Ji An said. "The earliest flight is at 10:45 tonight. You’ve got four hours to pack and get to the airport. Can you make it? If not, I’ll book you on the first flight tomorrow."
Guan Xia did the math. "Four hours is enough."
"Good. I’ll book tickets for you and Pang Le. Once you’re packed, call Xu Nian—he’ll drive you to the airport."
She was surprised Xu Nian was involved, but then it clicked. Without his connections as a current officer, Ji An and Lu Tingfeng, now former detectives, wouldn’t have access to the case files.
Hanging up, she rushed to pack. Experience made it quick—barely half an hour—leaving her just enough time for dinner.
Thankfully, Xu Nian had brought over another batch of his mother’s dumplings. Guan Xia boiled a portion, wolfed them down, and dialed Xu Nian.
Before the call could connect, a knock sounded at her door. She opened it to find Xu Nian waiting, suitcase in hand.
"Did you eat?" he asked before she could speak.
Guan Xia slipped on her shoes. "Yeah, just had dumplings. You?"
Xu Nian paused. "Same."
"Guess we’re in sync," she said offhandedly, dodging his attempt to take her suitcase. But he still wrestled it from her grip.
As he wheeled both bags toward the elevator, he glanced back. "No telling how long we’ll be gone. Did you turn off the utilities?"
Guan Xia only then realized that after boiling the dumplings earlier, she had turned off the gas but forgotten to shut the water valve while washing the dishes. She hastily replied to the message before rushing back to turn off the water. After double-checking everything and even taking out the trash, she finally locked the door and stepped into the elevator.
As she watched the floor numbers descend on the elevator panel, Guan Xia suddenly thought of Qi Bai, who always wailed dramatically in the group chat whenever they went out for investigations. She couldn’t help but ask, "Has Qi Bai’s leg healed? Is he coming this time?"
Xu Nian shook his head, his expression tinged with helplessness. "A bone injury takes a hundred days to heal. He hasn’t even gotten his cast removed yet, so he can’t make it. I can already picture how he’s going to throw a tantrum in the group when he finds out."
Guan Xia couldn’t help but smile, recalling Qi Bai’s messages in the group—behaving like a child throwing a fit. Still, she had to admit that having such a lively friend around made a difference. Even when exhausted from work and too tired to reply, seeing his playful banter would always lighten her mood a little.
