Guan Xia met Zhuo Mingyan and his wife about half an hour later. Both looked disheveled—their clothes damp with sweat, covered in dust, their hair a mess. Worse than their appearance was their demeanor; they seemed utterly broken, as if they had suffered a devastating blow. Their eyes were filled with pain and confusion. It was clear that through this kidnapping ordeal, they had pieced together the truth about their daughter Zhuo Xuanya’s death. The realization was beyond belief, leaving them tormented by unanswered questions.
Almost as soon as they stepped into the Fengshan District police station, the gaunt-faced Zhuo Mingyan clenched his teeth and demanded, “I want to see Yuan Yue. Let me see Yuan Yue.”
Beside him, Xiang Zhenli remained silent, but the tears streaming down her face betrayed a hatred so deep it was bone-chilling.
Guan Xia and two others stood by the interrogation room door, watching from a distance. Unsure of the procedure, she wondered if the Fengshan police would allow the meeting. Just then, a middle-aged officer and Xu Nian approached. The officer looked at Guan Xia and said, “Yuan Yue has calmed down. She’s asked to see you one more time.”
Guan Xia wasn’t surprised, but Pang Le was visibly displeased. “Why does she want to see Guan Xia again? Didn’t she say enough last time? If she starts spouting nonsense about dying, there’s no point in meeting.”
Pang Le was still unsettled by how Yuan Yue had frightened Guan Xia during their last encounter.
Guan Xia had to spend some time reassuring Pang Le before she reluctantly agreed.
“Fine,” Pang Le relented. “You can go, but keep it short. The moment she seems even slightly unstable, walk out. The evidence is solid—even without a confession, she’ll be convicted.”
“Got it,” Guan Xia replied solemnly. Only then did Pang Le step aside, letting her and the middle-aged officer enter the interrogation room again.
Yuan Yue did seem more composed now, her gaze clearer, her expression calm as she watched them take their seats. Before they could speak, she suddenly asked, “There’s one thing I still don’t understand. If you remember me, you must have overheard my conversation with Sha Junhao in that alley. So why didn’t you report it back then? Why wait two years?”
Her face bore genuine confusion as she leaned forward slightly, studying Guan Xia intently.
Having been startled once before, Guan Xia remained unfazed. She answered evenly, “Because I only recently learned about the case involving Sha Junhao’s father.”
The answer clearly caught Yuan Yue off guard. Her expression froze, her eyes glazing over as she muttered, “That’s it? It was really that simple?”
Now it was Guan Xia’s turn to be puzzled. She wondered what convoluted theories Yuan Yue had concocted to explain the delay, theories that had evidently driven her to near madness.
Just as Guan Xia braced herself for another outburst, Yuan Yue suddenly burst into laughter. It grew louder and more hysterical, bending her double, tears streaming down her face.
Guan Xia was stunned, and the middle-aged officer tensed, his gaze sharp with suspicion.
After several minutes, Yuan Yue finally regained control, wiping her tears carelessly with her fingers. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “So my plan had a flaw from the very beginning. But it doesn’t matter. I still got what I wanted. Two years of having it was enough.”
Guan Xia had expected nothing less from Yuan Yue’s venomous tongue, but hearing those words still ignited a surge of fury. She couldn’t suppress a cold laugh. “You got what you wanted? No. You destroyed it. Before you killed Zhuo Xuanya, you truly had it—their care and affection for you were genuine. But after her death, all of that became nothing but a delusion you spun for yourself. You’re a murderer. The murderer of Zhuo Xuanya. How could her parents ever love you? They’ll only hate you, wish you dead!”
It was the first time Guan Xia had spoken with such sharpness, but seeing Yuan Yue’s expression darken gave her a twisted satisfaction. She truly believed Yuan Yue deserved to die. She had killed someone who had genuinely cared for her. Wasn’t she desperate for love? How could she murder such a kind, beautiful girl for such a twisted reason?
Yuan Yue’s face shifted from amusement to fury, but instead of another meltdown, she smirked at Guan Xia with disdain. “Who do you think you are? Just another fool, like Sha Junhao. You sit there judging whether I got what I wanted, but what does it matter to you? If I believe I got it, then I did.”
Murderers truly had their own logic. Yuan Yue remained unshaken, while Guan Xia struggled to rein in her anger. But she quickly steadied herself, seizing on Yuan Yue’s words to press further. “If you think Sha Junhao was such a fool, why work with him? Why go through all the trouble of tricking him into that murder exchange?”
“Because he was easy to manipulate,” Yuan Yue sneered. “He and I are different. I’ll do anything to get what I want. He had love, but it made him weak. For all his tough act, he was just a stupid kid—easy to deceive, provoke, and blackmail. Even when he had doubts, he still went through with it. But I’ll give him credit—he was efficient. Worth the effort.”
From there, Yuan Yue launched into a detailed account of how she met Sha Junhao, how she manipulated him, and how she ultimately achieved her goal. While some details differed slightly from Sha Junhao’s version, the broad strokes matched. Just as he had claimed, he never initially intended to participate in a murder exchange. But Yuan Yue, with her silver tongue honed from years in sales, made the proposition irresistible. By the time he hesitated, he was already trapped. Even when he sensed inconsistencies in her story, fear kept him from digging deeper. And so, he ended up killing Zhuo Xuanya in a haze of confusion.
When Guan Xia stepped out of the interrogation room for the second time, she wasn’t frightened—just exhausted, numb. Yuan Yue’s words had battered her emotions, swinging between rage, disbelief, and grief for Zhuo Xuanya. Maybe it was the oppressive atmosphere of the interrogation room, but by the end, Guan Xia’s head was pounding.
Pang Le and the others noticed her pallor immediately. The moment she emerged, Pang Le pressed a piece of chocolate into her hand. “Eat something sweet to steady yourself. We’ve got all we need. Rest a bit, then we’ll go.”
Helping Guan Xia sit down on a chair, Ji An said from the side, "I just got a notification on my phone—the typhoon’s path has shifted. The heavy rainfall originally expected to hit Guanglin Province will arrive three days earlier. If we want to avoid it, we’ll have to leave tomorrow."
Pang Le, who had been massaging Guan Xia’s shoulders, looked surprised. "Huh? It’s coming earlier? Three days earlier? Then we definitely have to leave tomorrow. I don’t want to get stuck here." She pulled out her phone to check flight options.
Ji An replied, "I’ve already checked. Because of the sudden change, all flights from tonight to tomorrow afternoon are sold out. The only one left is at 10 PM tomorrow. I’ve already booked it." She glanced at Guan Xia’s expression. "I’m just worried about you—you’ve been pulling all-nighters and got injured. Are you sure you’ll be okay to travel tomorrow?"
Guan Xia had been quietly nibbling on chocolate while listening to Ji An’s plan, thinking that despite the twists and turns, things had wrapped up smoothly just before the storm. Hearing Ji An’s concern, she quickly stood up and spun around. "It’s just some minor scrapes. I’m totally fine—don’t worry about me. I can handle it."
Pang Le chimed in, "Don’t worry, Ji An. Guan Xia might not talk much, but she never downplays things. If she says she’s fine, she means it. Let’s stick to the plan and leave tomorrow."
Ji An finally relaxed. "Alright, then let’s rest well tonight and fly back tomorrow evening."
After sitting in the inquiry room a while longer, Guan Xia felt much better and told Xu Nian they were heading back to the hotel.
Before leaving, Guan Xia remembered the typhoon’s route change and asked, "When are you all leaving? Ji An just mentioned the heavy rain in Fuan City will arrive earlier because of the typhoon’s shift. Be careful not to get stranded here."
Xu Nian thought for a moment. "At the earliest, two days from now. There’s still paperwork to process."
Guan Xia did the math—two days would put them right in the storm’s path. She couldn’t help but sympathize. "Looks like you won’t make it before the rain hits. But typhoons can change course again—maybe you’ll get lucky."
Xu Nian smiled. "Well, I’ll take your optimism. Hope we can make it back smoothly like you."
They waved goodbye, but as soon as they were out of earshot, Pang Le pouted. "You know, what you just said sounded like you were jinxing it. I wasn’t worried before, but now I’ve got this weird, uneasy feeling—like something’s about to happen."
Guan Xia swatted her arm. "Don’t be a pessimist. We’re leaving tomorrow night, and until then, I’m not stepping foot outside the hotel—maybe not even my room. We’ll make it back to Yongquan City in time."
Pang Le’s pout deepened. "That just sounds even more like a jinx."
True to her word, Guan Xia didn’t leave the hotel room after returning from the Fengshan District Bureau. She relied on food delivery and spent the entire day lounging, binge-watching shows, and scrolling through short videos—so content that even the emotional turmoil from Yuan Yue faded from her mind.
By evening, Guan Xia and Pang Le had packed their suitcases and were double-checking for forgotten items when Ji An knocked on the door, arms laden with takeout.
Pang Le opened the door, and Ji An set the bags on the table, smoothing her slightly disheveled hair. "The wind’s picking up outside, and the sky’s gone dark. It looks like the rain might start by midnight."
Pang Le checked the time nervously. "Thank goodness we still have over four hours before the flight. No delays reported yet—it should be on schedule. We’ll eat dinner and head straight there."
The three gathered around the small coffee table as Ji An unpacked the food. "Just to be safe, let’s leave early. Rush hour plus the wind might make traffic worse. I’d rather kill time at the airport than risk being late."
Guan Xia and Pang Le agreed, so dinner was devoured in under twenty minutes.
"Done!" Pang Le said, hastily cleaning up. "I’ve checked everything—we didn’t forget anything. We can leave now."
Ji An stacked the takeout containers by the wall and did one last sweep of the room before taking Guan Xia’s suitcase. "Let’s go."
Even before stepping outside, Guan Xia could see the ominous sky—thick clouds blotting out the light, making it seem darker than it should be. The moment they exited the hotel, a breeze carrying the scent of damp earth brushed against them.
Pang Le sniffed. "That’s the smell of rain. And not just any rain—a storm. It’s strong even before the downpour."
"Get in the car," Ji An urged. "We need to return the rental first, then walk the last few hundred meters. It’s not far."
Apparently, Ji An and Pang Le shared the same habit—always renting cars as close to their destination as possible.
The first half of the drive to the airport went smoothly, but as the wind grew stronger, traffic slowed to a crawl. Even Guan Xia, usually unflappable, started checking the time anxiously. Fortunately, traffic officers soon arrived to direct the flow, and the road gradually cleared.
About twenty minutes later, with just three or four kilometers left, Guan Xia sat in the passenger seat, idly watching the traffic light countdown. Then, for no obvious reason, her attention locked onto a middle-aged man stepping off a bus.
She had been staring ahead, counting the seconds, when her peripheral vision caught a bus stopping about twenty meters from the intersection. Passengers crowded out the rear door, but one man stood out inexplicably—his plain appearance somehow drawing her gaze.
He carried a black plastic bag, its weight pulling it downward. After getting off, he hurried past a trash bin, tossed something in, and broke into a jog.
Guan Xia was so focused that Ji An’s sudden question startled her: "What’s wrong?"
Her heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, under Ji An’s probing stare, the system interface flashed abruptly in her mind.
You were being questioned by the police when suddenly, you remembered something. On the evening of June 16th at 7:57 PM, while waiting at a traffic light with a friend, you noticed a middle-aged man who appeared nervous and was walking hurriedly. He was carrying a black plastic bag, glancing down at it with every step, as if afraid of losing it. Your sharp instincts told you there was something off about the man's excessive attention to that bag, so you decided to report it to the police.
