After racking her brain for a while, Guan Xia thought of another possibility and asked Ji An, "Since Feng Xingping has a solid alibi, could it be a case of hiring a hitman?"
"Hiring a hitman?" Pang Le froze. "Who? Zhang Weiyan?"
Ji An didn’t answer immediately. She glanced at Guan Xia and then at Pang Le, her expression thoughtful.
Belatedly realizing she hadn’t shared the details of the case with Ji An despite asking her to investigate Zhang Weiyan and Feng Xingping’s identities earlier, Guan Xia quickly explained, "Here’s the thing—I came across a news report about this case online, and the accompanying images triggered some memories."
Guan Xia described the video footage she’d seen and explained her reluctance to go straight to the police with her concerns.
Ji An listened attentively. After Guan Xia finished, she pondered for a moment before saying, "Your testimony does raise suspicions about Feng Xingping, but it’s not substantial enough to reopen a cold case. Police investigations rely on concrete evidence. Eyewitness accounts can only point to a new direction."
"But if there’s a new lead, shouldn’t that be enough to reopen it?" Pang Le couldn’t help but interject.
Ji An replied, "Active cases and cold cases are handled differently. With active cases, investigators gather every possible clue, sift through them, and verify leads from multiple angles—the more clues, the better. But cold cases are those where all available investigative methods have been exhausted, leaving no further paths to pursue. That’s why they’re shelved. However, cold cases aren’t abandoned. Provincial and municipal authorities organize annual reviews of unsolved cases, especially homicides. Experts from across the city or even the province gather to discuss each case, searching for fresh angles. If new forensic technologies emerge, they’re immediately applied to these cases."
Ji An’s explanation was thorough, but Guan Xia and Pang Le grew increasingly perplexed. "If cold cases are taken so seriously, shouldn’t the discovery of a new lead warrant reopening it right away?"
Ji An clarified, "If new substantial evidence surfaces, then yes, the case would be reopened immediately. But the issue here is that this new lead comes from Guan Xia’s testimony. Human memory is inherently subjective. Also, there’s a difference between reinvestigating and reopening a cold case. Reinvestigation involves one or two officers verifying new leads, whereas reopening a cold case means mobilizing all available resources until the case is either solved or deemed unsolvable."
Now Guan Xia and Pang Le understood. "So what we’re doing now… isn’t a waste of time?"
Ji An said, "Actually, after Lu Tingfeng and I left the police force, this is exactly the kind of work we’ve been doing."
Mentioning Lu Tingfeng reminded Guan Xia of the reason Pang Le had looked into why Lu Tingfeng left the force. Since Ji An was doing similar work, she must have left for comparable reasons—though Guan Xia didn’t know which case Ji An was pursuing.
The thought flickered through Guan Xia’s mind, but she didn’t voice it. She agreed with Ji An’s earlier sentiment: given enough time together, Ji An would eventually share her story. More importantly, even if she did, Guan Xia might not be able to help yet. For now, her priority was to learn from Ji An and gain experience.
Guan Xia quickly refocused on the current case.
"Could it really be a hired killing?" she asked Ji An again. "The fact that my sketch was accurate enough for you to identify the suspects proves my memory is reliable. But since the two men don’t know each other and Feng Xingping has an alibi, this is the only explanation I can think of."
"Zhang Weiyan hiring a hitman?" Pang Le scratched his chin. "Didn’t Ji An say earlier that Zhang Weiyan is unemployed and survives on odd jobs? He probably couldn’t afford to hire a killer, right?"
Hearing "Ji An," Ji An shot Pang Le a glance before shaking her head. "Unlikely. Since Zhang Weiyan had a grudge against the murdered family of four, he’d naturally be a prime suspect. The police would’ve checked his financial records and ruled him out if nothing suspicious turned up."
Pang Le frowned. "Then it couldn’t be Feng Xingping hiring a hitman, could it? I’ve heard of people killing strangers for money, but never spending money to kill strangers for no reason."
After a brief consideration, Guan Xia also found the idea far-fetched.
Ji An said, "Given Feng Xingping’s financial status, he could afford it. I can look into his bank records."
Guan Xia then remembered something else. "By the way, Ji An, when you investigated Zhang Weiyan, did you find out what grudge he had against the four victims? And why did he drown himself?"
Ji An replied, "From what I’ve gathered, the four victims were actually related to Zhang Weiyan. The eldest male victim, Zhang Hongda, was Zhang Weiyan’s paternal uncle. In 2006, when Zhang Weiyan was 17, they attended a relative’s wedding together. On the way back, Zhang Hongda drunkenly fell into a river. Zhang Weiyan’s father, Zhang Hongxue, tried to save him. Zhang Hongda was rescued, but Zhang Hongxue drowned."
Pang Le was stunned. "So Zhang Weiyan did have a motive. What happened afterward? After Zhang Hongxue died saving him, didn’t Zhang Hongda take care of his nephew?"
By any moral standard, a normal person wouldn’t abandon the surviving family.
But Ji An shook her head. "From what I found, he didn’t. Instead, after Zhang Hongxue’s death, Zhang Hongda kicked Zhang Hongxue’s widow—claiming she was an ‘outsider’—out of the auto repair shop they co-owned. That left Zhang Weiyan without the means to attend college, forcing him to start working odd jobs right after high school to support his family."
Pang Le couldn’t hold back a curse. "What a heartless bastard! No wonder Zhang Weiyan hated him. Anyone would. His whole life was derailed. If he’d gone to college, he’d at least be better off than scraping by on odd jobs now."
Guan Xia pressed further. "In 2006, Zhang Weiyan was 17, so Zhang Hongxue would’ve been in his 40s. What about their parents? Did no one step in?"
Ji An said, "Zhang Hongxue and Zhang Hongda’s mother died young. Their father always favored the younger son because Zhang Hongda was smooth-tongued and charming."
Guan Xia understood. "No wonder Zhang Hongda turned out so vile. What about their father? Did he live well afterward?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.
Ji An replied, "He passed away from illness a few years after Zhang Hongxue’s death."
"Ha," Pang Le sneered, "this is karma. If he hadn't been so biased, his eldest son wouldn’t have left, and he might’ve lived a few more years."
"So why did Zhang Weiyan commit suicide later?" Guan Xia asked. "Was it still related to Zhang Hongda?"
Guan Xia clearly remembered that Zhang Weiyan had jumped into the river and encountered Feng Xingping on December 19, 2020, while the murder of Zhang Hongda’s family of four occurred on January 29, 2021—barely over a month apart. It was hard not to suspect that Zhang Hongda was once again the reason for the suicide.
Sure enough, Ji An replied, "Zhang Weiyan’s wife suffered a cerebral infarction in December 2020. Even after surgery, she needed ICU care. Zhang Weiyan had already borrowed from every other relative and had no choice but to ask Zhang Hongda for help—but obviously, he didn’t get the money."
"So, Zhang Weiyan’s wife died?" Pang Le’s expression turned complicated. "No wonder he couldn’t take it and chose suicide."
Putting herself in his shoes, Guan Xia couldn’t help but sigh. "Looking at it this way, Zhang Weiyan was actually quite kind. He’d rather kill himself than harm others."
As she spoke, she couldn’t suppress a sigh. Though it was wrong to think this way about four dead people, she couldn’t help feeling that if Zhang Hongda had possessed even a shred of conscience, he wouldn’t have met such an end.
Now that she understood the tangled web of grudges between Zhang Weiyan and the slaughtered family, part of Guan Xia’s confusion was resolved. But she still couldn’t make sense of the case. Could it really be that Feng Xingping, moved by Zhang Weiyan’s tragic fate, had sympathized so deeply during their conversation that he paid someone to avenge him?
This did align with the clues provided by the system’s interface, but the more she thought about it, the less plausible it seemed. Would anyone really go that far for a stranger?
Her head ached from overthinking, and she could only pin her hopes on Ji An’s investigation into Feng Xingping’s bank records.
Pang Le’s face scrunched up in thought before he suddenly muttered, "You know, if Feng Xingping really did hire a killer, it’s just like something a chivalrous hero from a wuxia novel would do—punishing evil, upholding justice."
Pang Le was letting his imagination run wild again, but Guan Xia froze as if struck by lightning, a sudden realization dawning on her.
"Justice… justice…" Guan Xia murmured to herself. A gut feeling told her she’d overlooked something, and she desperately combed through the memory fragments the system had played for her earlier.
Sure enough, upon replaying them, she quickly spotted what she’d missed before—a small keychain dangling from the zipper of Feng Xingping’s backpack as he sat beside Zhang Weiyan. Guan Xia had only caught a fleeting glimpse of it at the time, and the system hadn’t highlighted it, focusing entirely on the two faces framed in red. If not for Pang Le’s offhand remark, she would never have remembered.
Finally seizing on the clue, Guan Xia urgently turned to Pang Le. "Do you have paper and a pen?"
Pang Le knew this look all too well. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll grab some for you!"
He sprang up, dashed to a nearby desk, yanked open a drawer, and pulled out a sealed pack of A4 paper. Tearing into it with near-violent urgency, he snatched two sheets and a pen before rushing back.
"Here." He dropped the supplies in front of Guan Xia, too excited to sit, and stood there expectantly.
With the system’s playback still active, Guan Xia quickly sketched the keychain, replicating its details as closely as possible from the paused video.
"Take a look at this," she said, placing the drawing between the three of them.
Ji An and Pang Le immediately leaned in.
Without hesitation, Pang Le blurted, "Is that… an angel? The Judgment Angel?"
Ji An studied it silently.
Pang Le continued, "I had an ex-boyfriend who was into games and comics. He had posters of this exact thing at home—I’m not mistaken. I even asked him about it back then. It’s definitely the Judgment Angel."
Guan Xia wasn’t into gaming or comics, so she had no idea.
She examined the sketch. The keychain wasn’t large—about two-thirds the size of an adult woman’s palm—but it was exquisitely detailed, made of metal, with wings and a humanoid figure so lifelike it seemed ready to move. The figure’s eyes were closed, hands gripping a sword. Even without expertise, Guan Xia could tell this wasn’t cheap.
"This can’t be a coincidence, right?" Guan Xia looked at Ji An. "A man carrying a keychain called the Judgment Angel asks a suicidal man if he wants revenge, and the very person he wants revenge against ends up dead little over a month later."
Even without concrete evidence linking Feng Xingping to the case yet, Guan Xia felt this alone was enough for a seasoned detective like Ji An to catch the scent of the killer.
And indeed, Ji An’s eyes gleamed with certainty. "When it comes to homicide, there’s no such thing as coincidence. We don’t have proof on Feng Xingping yet, but if we keep digging, we’ll find it."
With that, he snatched the two earlier sketches from the whiteboard, along with Guan Xia’s new drawing, and strode out the door—only pausing to call back, "I’ll update you when I have news."
The door slammed shut with a bang, leaving Guan Xia and Pang Le staring at each other before they both slumped back into their chairs with a synchronized exhale.
"Seems like we’ve got a breakthrough," Pang Le said. "The Judgment Angel? Justice? I thought this kind of thing only existed in novels and TV shows. Never imagined it’d be real."
Guan Xia stayed silent but couldn’t help thinking to herself: To you, it’s reality. But to me, this is a crime fiction fusion world—anything’s possible.
Pang Le rubbed his chin. "Do you think Feng Xingping’s acting alone, or is there a whole organization behind him? If it’s the latter, then his absence from the crime scene makes sense—he could’ve just given the order while someone else carried it out."
Guan Xia recalled Feng Xingping’s appearance and hesitated. "Unlikely. He’s only 27. If there really is an organization, would someone that young already be a core member?" Based on her extensive novel-reading experience, it didn’t add up.
Pang Le disagreed. "What’s wrong with being young? It’s the young ones who dare to act. Otherwise, how do you explain him asking about revenge but not being the one who did the killing?"
Guan Xia pondered. "What if… besides Feng Xingping and the killer who murdered Zhang Hongda’s family, there’s a third person in this organization?"
Pang Le sucked in a sharp breath. "Damn, that’s possible. If so, your discovery just unearthed something huge."
Guan Xia shared the same foreboding. The only question now was whether Ji An’s investigation would go smoothly—and if he’d find the hard evidence needed to reopen the cold case.
