The police officers gathered around the whiteboard in the conference room, attempting to hold a silent dialogue with the deceased, Wei Huasheng, through the clues they had gathered.
“From the very beginning of the case, we retrieved his medical records. At first, it was just a routine physical exam report showing he was in good health. It wasn’t until the investigation shifted towards psychiatry that we discovered he had been obsessively asking the same question for years—whether he had a mental illness. But all the diagnoses agreed: he had no psychiatric issues, only excessive stress.”
“Here are some supplementary materials from the church sanatorium,” Liang Qikai took over. “The director mentioned that during discussions about Wei Ansheng’s aphasia symptoms, Wei Huasheng tentatively asked if it could be schizophrenia. He had read countless related documents but couldn’t diagnose himself. He even tried to verify indirectly through his son’s symptoms.”
Wei Huasheng genuinely believed he was being followed by a “ghost.”
But how could a “ghost” leave behind any tangible evidence?
“Perhaps it’s precisely because no evidence could be found that made him believe more and more in the supernatural,” Uncle Li said slowly. “After careful analysis, Wei Huasheng didn’t think his wife, Huang Qiulian, would harm the child. This matches Huang Qiulian’s own statements—she firmly believed Wei Huasheng wouldn’t abandon their child by throwing him down the stairs. Only the two of them were at the scene when the incident happened. If it wasn’t a ghost causing trouble, then who else could it be? He sought answers and eventually began to doubt himself. If there are no ghosts in this world, then the only explanation is that he was ill.”
At this moment, Zhu Qing raised a new possibility: what if someone was truly shadowing his every move?
Then who could that person be?
Photos of current suspects were neatly arranged on the whiteboard.
Ex-wife Huang Qiulian and younger brother Wei Xusheng.
After verification, both had been cleared of suspicion. Once the time of death was established, their alibis were airtight.
Mo Zhenbang quickly assigned tasks.
“Start the visits first thing tomorrow morning. No need to report to the station,” he said, closing the file. “That’s all for today. After so many days of overtime, you all deserve a rest.”
The officers left one by one, but unlike usual, they didn’t eagerly discuss where to go for dinner. Each of them was weighed down by too many unsolved mysteries. Without cracking the case, even the finest delicacies would taste bland.
But Sheng Fang’s mood was clearly unaffected.
Passing by the Senior Inspector’s office, the sound of his innocent childlike voice drifted out.
“How about we go for wonton noodles instead?”
“Didn’t you just say you wanted roast goose from Sham Tseng?”
“John, you said that place is far away!”
Zhu Qing stood at the door holding her coat. “Fangfang, time to go home.”
Before the meeting started, Zhu Qing had contacted Aunt Ping and asked her to leave early.
Unexpectedly, today’s work ended ahead of schedule. Heading home now might even mean a chance to enjoy some hot, homemade food.
“Can we really leave now?” Baby Sheng Fang jumped up with delight and threw himself into Zhu Qing’s arms. “Home sweet home—”
Just before heading out the door, he didn’t forget to turn back and wave, “Bye-bye, John!”
Weng Zhaolin watched as the two—uncle and nephew—disappeared around the corridor corner.
One moment they were still discussing whether to have roast goose or wonton noodles, and in the blink of an eye, he was left all alone. The air suddenly felt a little more lonely.
“Qingzi, did you hear what I just said?”
“What did you say?”
“I want to go to a real zoo and feed the little monkeys!”
Weng Zhaolin, still in the office, felt both amused and a little exasperated—
So what am I then? A fake monkey?
……
As the car door opened, Sheng Fang climbed into the back seat. Just as he settled in, he saw one colleague after another climbing in.
Only then did he realize that ever since they moved to Cadogan Hill, Qingzi often gave a ride home to several colleagues along the way.
A couple of days ago they hadn’t carpooled because everyone had visits to make, but tonight was different. Everyone had only one destination—
Home.
“From now on, no one’s allowed to mention any cases,” Hao Zai half-lounged in his seat. “Whenever I close my eyes, my mind is full of suspects’ names, and it feels like they’re all shouting in my ear. Especially Wei Xusheng—he’s the loudest, always going on about ‘money, money, money’…”
“About Wei Huasheng—” someone instinctively started to speak.
“Enough!” everyone chimed in simultaneously.
The taut nerves gradually relaxed amid the laughter and chatter. Fellow travelers, colleagues joking and chatting, Sheng Fang listened intently, so captivated that the car radio didn’t even get a chance to turn on. Their noisy chatter was livelier than any radio program.
“But speaking of which,” Xu Jiale muttered, “if someone’s been convinced for over a decade that they’re being followed by a ghost, it’s a miracle they haven’t gone crazy. And yet the deceased managed to run the company so successfully, and the toys developed were so childlike and delightful...”
“Here we go again!”
“Take it easy, Inspector Mo said we’ll continue the investigation tomorrow…”
The car stopped at a red light.
Suddenly, rustling sounds came from the back seat. Sheng Fang leaned over the seat, peeking forward.
“Time for a brain massage!”
His little chubby hands pressed precisely on Zhu Qing’s temples, skillfully kneading.
Sheng Fang didn’t understand acupressure points, but his fingers moved nimbly, like a professional little masseur. Zhu Qing was used to this treatment, gently tilting her head to adjust her position, and those small hands followed, continuing their service.
Hao Zai sat upright. “Give me a massage too!”
The car fell silent for a moment.
Sheng Fang withdrew his hands and placed them obediently on his lap, his big dark eyes fixed on Hao Zai. “Did you wash your hair?”
“Zhu Qing!” Hao Zai scratched his head in frustration. “Control your nephew, this kid’s bullying me!”
Laughter erupted inside the car.
Zhu Qing’s lips curved into a smile as she turned the steering wheel and drove into Mong Kok.
As the police station building flashed past the window, she suddenly spoke up, “The child abuse case is handled by the Mong Kok police station. Maybe we can reach out to them—”
“Qingzi!” Sheng Fang interrupted with a pout, “Just now I told you to change your brain!”
“I did.” Zhu Qing replied without a flicker of emotion, “Now I’m using a new way of thinking.”
Only his niece could calm down her little uncle with just one sentence.
In the rearview mirror, Sheng Fang proudly lifted his chin.
Qingzi’s new brain was personally installed by him!
……
The next day was the weekend off that Sheng Fang had been looking forward to for a long time.
In the past, every weekend he would excitedly follow Qingzi to investigate cases. Now that his eldest sister was home, he had more freedom to choose.
He was going to go shopping at the department store with his big sister!
Last night, when Sheng Peirong and Zhu Qing mentioned this, Sheng Fang’s ears perked up instantly.
Actually, no matter what she needed, one phone call could have it delivered right to her door. But everyone understood that Sheng Peirong really needed to get out and about. It wasn’t just because of the surgery—over the past ten-plus years, she had hardly ever stepped outside. The most memorable outing in recent years was still picking up her little brother from school.
At dawn, Sheng Fang was already lying by his big sister’s bedside.
“Time to get up.” His small hands cupped like a megaphone, his voice soft and childlike, but his early morning nagging was enough to wear anyone down. “No more lying in bed, let’s go!”
The whole house was quiet; even Aunt Ping hadn’t gotten up to prepare breakfast yet.
But Sheng Fang was already bursting with impatience, wishing he could dash out in a flash.
Sheng Peirong, still sleepy-eyed, asked, “Is the mall open yet?”
“The mall opens at ten.” She reached for the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Sheng Fang, it’s only six o’clock!”
“You have to get ready—”
“Am I walking a red carpet? Do I need four hours to get ready?!”
Sheng Fang climbed up using both hands and feet, curious. “Big sister, what’s a red carpet?”
Sheng Fang was like a little human alarm clock, and today’s “wake-up service” was purely to torment his big sister.
Sheng Peirong answered absentmindedly, her drowsiness gradually fading.
The siblings got up early and sat facing each other in the empty living room.
There were still four hours before the mall opened. What exactly were they waiting for?
“I’m getting Qingzi to wake up and come play with us!”
Sheng Peirong grabbed her little brother’s arm. “Let Coco sleep a little longer.”
She looked out the window.
The flowers and plants in the courtyard were still asleep... So this was how hard it was to raise a child.
“Big sister!” Sheng Fang suddenly exclaimed, “Your strength has gotten stronger!”
Sheng Peirong was stunned. She looked down at her left hand holding tightly onto her little brother’s arm.
The doctor’s report at discharge clearly said her left hand was weak, but at this moment, the grip on Sheng Fang’s arm was so firm and clear.
“Awesome!” Sheng Fang patted his small hands. “Later you have to treat me to a box of ice cream to celebrate!”
Sheng Peirong smiled. “Ice cream in winter? You’ll freeze your teeth and start chattering.”
The siblings sat in the living room, foolishly waiting.
Sheng Peirong came to an important conclusion: from now on, she would never tell her little brother in advance where she was going. Notifying him three minutes before leaving was more than enough.
This discovery was quickly shared at the breakfast table.
"I figured that out a long time ago," Zhu Qing said with a smile. "Even just one minute in advance is enough."
"What are you two talking about?" Fang Fang’s round face leaned in. "Tell me too!"
After breakfast, Zhu Qing headed out to pick up Uncle Li, and they made their way straight to the Mong Kok Police Station.
Uncle Li had been a policeman for most of his life and had acquaintances in every precinct. They barely had to wait before an Inspector Wen welcomed them into his office.
Inspector Wen and Uncle Li exchanged greetings, reminiscing about old times, until a police officer brought in the case files for a child abuse investigation.
"I remember this case well," Inspector Wen said. "There was a huge public outcry back then, and the higher-ups were putting a lot of pressure on us. We investigated so thoroughly, we nearly tore the whole tenement down."
He pointed at a structural diagram of the tenement building.
"The old building’s layout was a complete mess. We went through everything meticulously—blocked both the front and back doors, emptied the rooftop water tank, and turned the garbage bins in the back alley upside down. There was no sign anyone had hidden inside."
Uncle Li asked, "What about the residents?"
"We checked every single household, didn’t even leave the broken furniture in the stairwells or the hidden spaces inside wardrobes untouched."
"Did anyone slip away during the chaos? Like when someone was taking a child to the hospital?"
Inspector Wen thought carefully, then shook his head.
"When the first officers arrived, the longtime residents were still guarding the building inside and out. Anyone leaving would have been noticed for sure."
Zhu Qing interjected, "Could it have been a resident who committed the crime? Someone who went back to their own place through a window after the fact?"
"We checked every window. The iron window frames in the old tenement were rusty—anyone climbing through would have left marks."
"As for sneaking out through the main door? Impossible. Neighbors would have heard the child crying immediately because their doors were wide open. In the summer, tenements are like steamers; many households keep their windows open for ventilation."
"Escaping under those circumstances? No way. Unless that person had some kind of contortionist skills."
After a pause, he continued, "As for Huang Qiulian, her condition was very poor. She kept repeating she wasn’t the one, then eventually fell silent, shrinking into the interrogation chair without saying a word."
Uncle Li’s eyes flickered.
This matched Huang Qiulian’s statement. She had said she was so confused at one point that she doubted whether she had really lost control and hurt the child. It wasn’t until the storm had passed that she became more certain she would never do such a thing.
"That’s how the case stood," Inspector Wen closed the file. "Old Li, how long has it been since you tried the food at the Mong Kok police station cafeteria?"
He nodded toward the door, "Want to give it a shot?"
……
The police continued their investigation based on the evidence they had.
A possible lead emerged before the officers: could it be that a family member of the seriously ill child from back then was harboring a grudge?
The records show that it all happened twenty-six years ago. Back then, Wei Huasheng was a young volunteer who never missed his weekly visits to the hospital to see the sick children. Except for that one time—he overslept and skipped his visit. Tragically, that was the day the child didn’t make it...
On the way to investigate, Xu Jiale sighed, “If this really is an act of revenge by the family of the patient, wouldn’t it be a perfect example of the old saying, ‘A favor for a bowl of rice, a grudge for a bowl of grain’? Regardless, I hope Wei Huasheng’s death has nothing to do with that incident.”
After a thorough investigation, the police learned that the family later had a daughter and eventually emigrated, leaving behind this place filled with sorrow.
With that, this lead came to a dead end.
Next, the police went to visit Xiang Binbin, the student who was left disabled in a car accident.
He was only fifteen when the accident happened, and now he is a young man in his twenties. It was found that Wei Huasheng’s support never ceased; it just shifted from public to private, with several major surgery costs handled directly through his secretary.
Though confined to a wheelchair, Xiang Binbin’s mind is sharp and his speech articulate.
When asked whether there was anything suspicious about the accident back then, he gently shook his head.
“Disasters often strike without warning,” Xiang Binbin said calmly as he recalled those days.
A promising youth’s bright future was altered overnight.
But over the years, he has gradually emerged from the shadows and accepted his fate with equanimity.
“It was my own carelessness—I was distracted while walking and didn’t notice the car,” he said in an even tone. “For that driver, it was an unfortunate accident as well.”
Xiang Binbin’s room is filled with piles of books. Pointing to them, he explained kindly, “These were all sent by charitable organizations.”
Unable to travel any longer, he lets the words in these books take him on journeys beyond his reach.
“Uncle Wei once told me that life doesn’t have to be about achieving great things,” Xiang Binbin said, gripping the wheelchair handles. “Simply living is a kind of strength.”
The police noticed a stack of handwritten letters on his desk.
It turns out these were from a joint event organized by the Wei Huasheng Charity Foundation and the hospital, where Xiang Binbin encouraged other disabled children by sharing his own experiences through letters.
When talking about this, Xiang Binbin lowered his eyes, tears welling up. “If Uncle Wei is watching from above, I believe he would find this very meaningful.”
As they parted, the officer handed Xiang Binbin a business card. “If you recall anything suspicious about the accident back then, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”
In the living room, Xiang Binbin’s mother also spoke with the police.
When mentioning Wei Huasheng, she admitted, “My son has always seen Mr. Wei as a role model. Ever since he was fifteen, he dreamed of someday being able to help others just like Mr. Wei. After the accident, Mr. Wei never came back. At the time, I did have some resentment. I thought if he had come to visit, maybe Binbin would have recovered sooner.”
“But now I’ve come to understand,” Mrs. Sheng gazed out at the sunlight streaming through the window. “One shouldn’t be too greedy. Mr. Wei has already done so much for us.”
When they left, the officers quietly compared the alibis of the mother and son, exchanging low whispers.
Setting emotions aside and looking purely at the facts, the charity fund established by Wei Huasheng still supports this family to this day. With the mother bedridden for years and the son physically limited, they need this financial aid more than anyone.
No matter what, this mother and son simply couldn’t be the culprits.
……
This was the first time Sheng Fang went out shopping with his older sister.
They had originally planned to leave at ten in the morning, but Aunt Ping had carefully prepared lunch. The siblings lingered at home, eating and dawdling until midday. Under his sister’s coaxing and encouragement, Sheng Fang unknowingly fell asleep for a nap.
By the time they actually stepped out, Sheng Fang realized his sister’s shopping style was nothing like he had imagined.
She walked gracefully past the counters, lightly tapping her fingers, “This one, this one, that one…”
In less than ten minutes, she was done shopping.
Sheng Fang was dumbfounded.
What kind of shopping was this? If he had known it would be this boring, he might as well have gone to work with Zhu Qing.
After finishing the purchases, the big bags were all handed over to the mall’s delivery service.
During afternoon tea, Sheng Fang stayed close to Sheng Peirong until evening. The siblings deliberately took a longer route, agreeing to pick up Zhu Qing after work together.
However, when they arrived beneath the Yau Ma Tei Police Station, Sheng Peirong hesitated.
Her physical condition still didn’t allow her to climb stairs. Following medical advice, rushing things wouldn’t help her recovery.
“Big sister, how can you go to work like this?”
“The doctor said to keep up with the rehab,” Sheng Peirong glanced at him calmly. “Besides, the company has an elevator. You’ve never been there before?”
Sheng Fang’s small mouth opened, then closed again, stifled by frustration, shooting a glare at the old police station in front of him.
This broken-down Yau Ma Tei Police Station didn’t even have an elevator — it was outrageous.
The siblings called Zhu Qing and waited downstairs.
While waiting, Sheng Fang took his role as the generous host seriously, fully embracing his “little tour guide” duties by showing Sheng Peirong around the neighborhood.
Sheng Fang had an exceptional memory, especially for recent events. At every spot, he excitedly shared happy memories.
“Big sister! Aunt Ping used to bring me here to wait for Zhu Qing!”
Back then, he hadn’t even started kindergarten yet. Officer John at the police station didn’t like subordinates bringing their kids to work. So all he could do was wait here, watching longingly for Zhu Qing to finish her shift. Just thinking about it brought a bitter tear to his eye.
When they reached the bike rack outside the Transport Department, his tone brightened, “This is where Doctor Cheng promised to take me for a motorcycle ride!”
Then Sheng Fang puffed out his cheeks, “But later, they wouldn’t let me ride anymore!”
This was one of the top three grievances the young master of the Sheng family had suffered. No matter who he met, he made sure to complain about it thoroughly.
“By the way, did Coco reply to Doctor Cheng last night?”
“No! We haven’t even been to the study since we got home.”
“I have a task for you—keep an eye out for when she replies.”
“Got it!” Sheng Fang immediately straightened his back and saluted, his round little face lighting up with a big smile.
The siblings had been eagerly waiting for Zhu Qing to appear.
“I still can’t leave yet.”
Sheng Fang’s little feet fidgeted as his mind raced with thoughts of going upstairs to investigate, even contemplating abandoning his big sister without a second thought.
“Could I ask you for a favor—” Zhu Qing held both of Sheng Fang’s small hands seriously and said solemnly, “Will you help me take Mom home?”
The little boy blinked.
“Ah…” tilting his head, he puffed out his small chest and patted it confidently, “No problem!”
……
The atmosphere at the police station was heavy and oppressive.
A group of officers slumped in their chairs, looking worn out and worried.
“Boss, it’s not that we don’t want to investigate,” Little Sun rubbed his temples, his voice tinged with fatigue, “but right now, we don’t even have a lead. We’re just going around in circles.”
The desk was piled high with case files. They scrutinized every detail repeatedly, hoping to uncover any overlooked clues.
Several days had passed since the body was found at the Tianhou Temple, and pressure from higher-ups was mounting. The victim, a philanthropist, had yet to receive justice.
The police increasingly suspected that the people they had been investigating might not be the real culprits.
“What if the real killer never entered our radar, and has no apparent connection with the victim?”
“His social circle is too simple. We’ve checked every partner and employee in the company—no suspicious characters. Even former employees have been questioned; no one had any disputes with him.”
“The two household helpers are unlikely suspects as well. We contacted the domestic service agency from eight years ago when he moved. It was a scheduling mistake that led both to be interviewed, but out of kindness, the victim kept them on.”
“If the killer hasn’t shown up yet, this is even more impossible than finding a needle in a haystack. At least with a needle, you know what you’re looking for. We know nothing about this person.”
These words hit like a bucket of cold water, dampening the officers’ spirits even further.
Since the crime, a series of puzzling questions swirled in their minds.
Why was Wei Huasheng posed kneeling? Why choose the side hall meant for the ritual of blessing children?
What hidden meaning lay behind the phrase “An Inadequate Father”?
“This feels like a carefully staged ‘atonement ritual.’”
“But Wei Huasheng’s social image is impeccable, almost perfect.”
“We even tracked down his ex-girlfriend from twenty years ago. Both relationships ended peacefully. Aside from Wei Ansheng, he had no other children.”
Zhu Qing’s gaze lingered for a long time on the close-up photo in the forensic report.
The murderer had expertly manipulated the time of death by cooling the corpse’s joints, pressing the back with an incense burner, simulating a low-temperature environment, and physically restraining the body—these interference techniques were highly professional.
"Whoever came up with this method," Zhu Qing suddenly looked up, "could they be involved in some kind of specialized profession?"
The situation remained at a standstill.
Until Weng Zhaolin appeared at the door of the CID room.
The senior inspector, who usually wore a stern expression, now saw that his subordinates looked even more troubled than he did.
Just as everyone expected a harsh reprimand to follow—
At that moment—
This superior surprisingly softened his tone.
“There aren’t that many dead ends in the world. Sometimes, just by turning a corner, you might find a new path,” he said, tapping his temple, offering a rare word of comfort. “Moments of inspiration often come when you least expect them.”
……
When Zhu Qing pushed open the door to her home, a burst of delightful laughter immediately reached her ears.
Sheng Fang was excitedly tumbling around in the ball pit, his little cheeks flushed red from all the fun.
Aunt Ping greeted her with a smile.
“Usually, the young master doesn’t even bother with this ball pit, but today he’s invented a new way to play.”
The little boy was tossing colorful balls up and down, then kicking them with his tiny feet. He occasionally stumbled but was completely engrossed, his earnest yet comical antics resembling a circus acrobat’s performance.
The child was already sweating profusely from playing so hard.
Aunt Ping had reminded him countless times, “Young master, it’s time for your bath. You don’t want to catch a cold later.”
Only when he was thoroughly caught up in the fun did Sheng Fang notice Zhu Qing had returned. He immediately scrambled out of the ball pit.
He was determined to carry out the “undercover mission” his big sister had assigned him, and without hesitation, he grabbed Zhu Qing’s hand and pulled her toward the study.
“Qing-zi, hurry up and reply to the emails!”
From the living room, Sheng Peirong silently massaged her forehead and sighed.
This little undercover agent just couldn’t hold still.
Zhu Qing was forcibly dragged into the study by Sheng Fang.
Having not been there for several days, she now noticed the desk piled high with various magazines and newspapers.
Aunt Ping, pulling the reluctant young master toward the bath, explained, “A few days ago, Pei Junyi bribed the tabloids to spread news that the young lady was seriously ill. So the young lady asked me to buy every newspaper available on the market to verify the information. It turned out only two disreputable tabloids ran the story.”
Sheng Fang couldn’t help but chime in.
He imitated his big sister’s disdainful expression at the time, curling his lips, “Pei Junyi’s only got this much skill.”
As he spoke, Sheng Fang helped his niece turn on the computer, his little face full of eager anticipation. “Qing-zi, reply quickly!”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Because—”
“Little brother!” Sheng Peirong’s voice came from outside the door. “If you don’t go take your bath now, no cream pudding for you tonight!”
Sheng Fang was dragged away, half pulled, half dragged.
“I haven’t even sent the email to Doctor Cheng yet…”
Aunt Ping whispered, “Oh, what does that have to do with you?”
Finally having seen off the noisy little kid, Zhu Qing sat down in front of her computer.
The email page opened, and an unread message caught her eye.
The email was brief and to the point—Cheng Xinglang mentioned that the project team had just completed the first phase of their intensive training. He also asked with concern about the progress of the Tianhou Temple case she had mentioned in her last reply. At the end of the email, he specially noted that the attachment contained their latest completed case analysis materials, which might offer her some useful references for her investigation.
Zhu Qing clicked open the attachment.
It was a detailed project progress report, filled with professional jargon. Scattered among the text were a few photos of the team members at work. As she scrolled through, her fingers suddenly paused on one photo. In it, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed professor was lecturing at the podium, with students listening intently around him. At the very edge of the frame stood Cheng Xinglang quietly, a pen tucked into the pocket of his white lab coat. His short hair was even neater than when he had left, making his sharp features stand out even more clearly.
Zhu Qing’s gaze lingered on the screen for a moment before switching to the reply page.
After typing and sending her response, her eyes casually fell on the copy of the “Xiangjiang Weekly” lying on the desk.
A special report on the architectural evolution of ancient temples caught her attention.
At the bottom was the byline: Deng Yuyan.
She was one of the discoverers of the Tianhou Temple murder case.
The article included several photos of the temple. But the reporter had clearly said photography was forbidden inside the temple—so how were these clear pictures here?
Reporters sometimes ignored rules and restrictions to get exclusive material, secretly snapping photos that weren’t allowed.
Maybe Deng Yuyan had unintentionally captured some important details while taking these clandestine shots?
Perhaps among those unpublished photos lay clues that could crack the case.
Though it was just a guess, at this stagnant moment in the investigation, any faint hope had to be pursued to the very end.
“Qing-zi, I’m back!” Sheng Fang appeared in the study, his head wrapped in a big white bath towel, wobbling as he walked.
Zhu Qing shifted slightly to the left, and he immediately floated over to the left as well.
She moved to the right, and he persistently followed.
Determined to completely block her view, Sheng Fang finally stopped, satisfied.
Today, Sheng Fang was playing the ghost baby, waving his little hands lightly like a ghost.
Zhu Qing’s train of thought was completely broken. She simply grabbed the towel twisted on his little head, scrunched it into a ball, and tossed it into the corner of the study’s sofa.
“Do you want to be squished into a ball and thrown like this too?” Zhu Qing pinched his soft little face, squinting her eyes.
“I do, I do!” Sheng Fang’s eyes instantly sparkled like little stars as he curled himself into a round, chubby ball. “Ready—”
Qing-zi had invented the best game in the world!
Zhu Qing: ...
What kind of little genius was he?
He couldn’t even understand such a simple threat!
