Zhen Wuyu and the others had analyzed it. Based on the current clues, and summing up Lin Zong and those people’s relationships plus the scattered fragments of their past entanglements, the most accurate storyline they could infer was this—
Three months ago, after Chen Qing made contact with Qi Meijuan at the casino’s back door, Qi Meijuan used the fact that she had seen him contact some mysterious person to blackmail him. Chen Qing refused at the time, then contacted Lin Zong and the others to tell them what happened. Not long after, Qi Meijuan was killed by Qi Xuan, using a method extremely similar to Bai Mian Chang.
Qi Xuan’s expression only wavered for a moment. He quickly showed a stuck, almost indifferent look. “What do you mean? What is Bai Mian Chang?”
Zhen Wuyu: “You’re not denying you killed your mother?”
Qi Xuan: “It’s not that I’m not denying it; it’s that I’m not admitting it. How can you be sure I killed her? That’s your police business. I don’t have to argue, but you have to verify every piece of solid evidence.”
“You mentioned those things before. Even if they really exist, it still takes time to verify them. Anyway, I’m not losing out.”
After calming down, he was still choosing to find loopholes to save himself—either the police would mess up and fail to connect all the evidence, or he could drag it out until the whole thing fell apart…
Beside him, Liu Duan’s brows lifted.
This kid was hoping the people behind him would pull something and create an opening for him to escape?
Like killing Huang Xiuling, giving Lin Zong and Zhang Cheng hope.
Qi Xuan had definitely learned about that at the hospital too, and gotten “inspiration” from it?
Zhen Wuyu wasn’t in a hurry. Su Ye had mocked him as an “expert,” but his actual specialty really was investigative technique, not the action and field experience of frontline cops.
His entry point was “copycat crime,” and he had no intention of changing direction.
“You’re young. Right now, you have no survival skills. A senior in high school. Poor family. Long-term abuse and harsh treatment from your only close relative. Good at putting on the mask of a gentle top student who’s excellent in both conduct and academics. But you also have a teenager’s competitiveness at this age, and strong material desire. Your personality is calm and meticulous.”
“That is you.”
“You think you’re powerful, but you’re full of contradictions.”
“Your pride and your inferiority are both extreme. You’re a complex personality. Because of your intelligence, you can keep control and maintain that positive mask in front of ordinary people. But because your psychological endurance is poor and your personality is damaged, you can’t control your negative energy. So you develop jealousy and desire. Combined, they push you to need an extreme way to break free—become above others, become the one who controls other people’s lives, make people fear you, worship you, even become a god—or a ghost—who influences an entire local area.”
“Why are so many serial killers, in such a high proportion, people who were hurt at the social level or emotionally unhappy? Because they can’t get what they want. Even on the matter of ‘getting it,’ those who are always arrogant know very clearly they can’t do it. That’s the most desperate part, the part that makes them go crazy. Just like your pain comes from beatings and poverty, but you can’t change it, so— you started worshiping someone.”
“These photos were taken in your home.”
“Very clean. You consciously tidied up the house and erased anything that might expose that you killed your mother—swimming equipment, clothes used in the crime, tools that beat you for years… and of course, these too.”
“This one: the bookshelf.”
Zhen Wuyu spread a stack of photos with his long fingers, pulled one out, and placed it in front of Qi Xuan.
“A bookshelf that was originally full—there’s a section empty here. That means some books were removed. Criminal investigation books, right? You were hiding your ability.”
Qi Xuan listened to everything. His emotions, like Zhen Wuyu’s unhurried tone, didn’t ripple. He kept that mocking half-smile.
“Then you’re wrong. There weren’t many books to begin with. I’m poor; I couldn’t fill a bookshelf. Or even if it was full, the books I pulled out could’ve been ordinary novels that don’t matter.”
Zhen Wuyu: “Your mother wasn’t a clean person. Maybe you are, but your home conditions weren’t enough. You were poor. So the rag you used to wipe the shelf and the rag you used to wipe away the blood left where you used to get beaten—same rag, right?”
“Same logic: you thought you wiped away the leftover blood, but since you weren’t washing it frequently, you left traces from the rag on the pages of other books—because you wiped the dust off those too.”
“Those political books about truth, goodness, and beauty—you didn’t want to read them at all, but you wiped them very clean.”
Qi Xuan’s mouth twitched, but he said coldly, “Even if there’s my blood on them, so what? I got hurt by accident, wiped it, then wiped the books. Is there a problem?”
Zhen Wuyu: “If we can’t find the rag, then sure, it’s all talk. So you threw it in the trash to deal with it, right.”
“Your village has fixed garbage collection trucks.”
“It’s been months. Of course nothing would remain. So you’re not worried at all.”
“But.”
He pulled out another photo.
“Do you know blood soaks in? Under the cracks of wooden boards, in wall fissures—it can’t be wiped out. Look at this blood pattern image shown under equipment—everywhere in that house, every corner, she beat you.”
“You forgot?”
That photo was placed on the table.
In the dim view, fluorescent traces were lit up. It was the result of bloodstain analysis. Visually, the house looked completely clean and neat on the surface—yet there were blood remnants everywhere…
The house was old, the materials aged; everything left traces.
Qi Xuan, who had been steady, saw it once and his pupils expanded. In an instant, he was dragged back into those heavy memories…
It blew apart.
“Ah!!”
He exploded, trying to jump up and tear the photos to shreds.
The officers tried to hold him down, but Zhen Wuyu stopped them, raising a hand for them not to move, letting him struggle… but this wasn’t a normal inquiry anymore. He had already been designated a suspect under interrogation, with his freedom restricted.
No matter how he struggled, how hard he tried, he couldn’t leave that table.
Zhen Wuyu leaned forward now, hands folded under his chin, calm and looking down as he said, “Now you should use what you learned from books and the Bai Mian Chang case back then to refute me. Even if Qi Meijuan beat you, that can’t be direct evidence that you killed her. That’s motive, not evidence, right?”
Qi Xuan’s emotions had already burst through the gate, cracking open. Even if his intelligence told him to do what Zhen Wuyu said, his broken character and temperament made him surrender to his weakness in the end.
Rage and agitation took over, and he also stubbornly refused to let Zhen Wuyu lead him by the nose.
He stared at Zhen Wuyu. Then, as Zhen Wuyu lightly continued—
“But your payment—the account marked with that other person’s sign—shows that the money you got for helping kill Qi Meijuan was thirty thousand.”
“Thirty thousand. You seem to think that’s a lot. After all, it’s enough for living expenses and tuition, even enough for university costs, and still leaves room for you to buy better clothes.”
“But the money Huang Xiuling got in her private account was at least in the hundreds of thousands. Do you know why they’ve been able to hide so deep for years, never getting caught as connected to Shen Hui and Chen Shengnan’s cases? Because they never truly got involved in a murder case. Killing means the dead bleed, and the killer’s hands get stained too. That’s another form of ‘the material existence is eternal; it only transforms from one form into another.’”
“So in that person’s eyes, there are levels. You—this devout believer—you think you’re her direct disciple, but you’re not even as good as Huang Xiuling and those peripheral errand thugs.”
“That’s why when I came in just now, I said—you’re low.”
Liu Duan hadn’t participated in the verbal interrogation. He knew this kind of psychological warfare was different from their usual questioning. This was using psychology and human nature to break the other side. Old cops could pry open a criminal’s defenses with experience, but in such a short time, judging the other person’s personality and temperament—that was Zhen Wuyu’s most powerful expertise.
He didn’t move. He listened to Zhen Wuyu’s last line and predicted: that’s enough.
Sure enough—
Bang! Qi Xuan slammed his bound fists on the table and roared, “I’m her only confidant! I am! Otherwise, why would she entrust this to me? What I want isn’t money—it’s to become like her, to become the ruler of Baimu Town!”
“Qi Meijuan—Qi Meijuan—she deserved to die!”
“Only by killing her could I break free from fate’s shackles and become a strong person with no stain. From then on, I’d have everything!”
“I was almost successful! I was supposed to succeed! As long as I got into university, went to a good school, found a good job… earned a lot of money, so much money…”
He had collapsed, dismantled completely.
Enough.
Qi Xuan had been cracked.
Liu Duan let out a breath, though he wasn’t that surprised. That was exactly why he had shamelessly pulled strings to request this rising star from the provincial department.
But—
Outside the interrogation room, Xiao Li opened a bag of mochi and everyone shared it, filling their stomachs while sighing.
“No wonder Ge Wuyu said this Qi Xuan looks hard to deal with. He’s basically like Chen Qing in that four-person group. He has an obvious weakness. Most importantly—his family dragged him down. His horizons aren’t wide enough.”
“Thirty thousand. He spent some of it on clothes and supplies to satisfy vanity, but he still knew to keep most of it as confidence for future studies and living. That’s already careful planning.”
“And even after getting pulled onto the boat by these vicious criminals, he still thinks about going the standard route: study, work, make money…”
That was the typical mindset trained by environment from childhood. It also proved Qi Xuan hadn’t been fully controlled by the person behind it all.
He was just bewitched and used.
So there was still a crack to exploit.
And…
“The moment that photo appeared, he was already defeated.”
“Maybe just like the first time he got abused by his parents—utterly crushed.”
The policewoman pointed at the backup photo—the blood pattern image.
She had produced it. But even she felt shocked just from one glance, and she faintly sensed—if Qi Xuan hadn’t had parents like that, maybe he really would’ve lived the future he had sketched for himself.
Study, live, work, earn money.
Happy like all happy people.
In the collapse and turbulence,
only after a long time did Zhen Wuyu’s voice come from inside the interrogation room.
“Qi Xuan, I won’t tame you or educate you. Because I haven’t lived your pain, I don’t have the right to stand on high and look down on you. And when you tripped and fell into that deep pit, I didn’t pull you up.”
“The police couldn’t help you either.”
“And I have even less right to stand on the road of morality and condemn your resistance without principles.”
“To the you who was suffering back then, that person gave you hope. You thought they pulled you up, but actually they dragged you into another deep pit.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“But people like us, who think our intelligence is above average—we’re always proud. We always know what we did, and we know what’s right and what’s wrong. So in your plan, you decided to restrain yourself from gambling and refuse to enter that hell again.”
“In your plan for that thirty thousand, it wasn’t included. And you did restrain yourself.”
“Those clothes weren’t vanity. They were you cleaning yourself up—beautiful, clean, as if loved, like boys from good families.”
“Doesn’t that prove… you wanted to start over?”
“You didn’t completely want to become Bai Mian Chang.”
Qi Xuan’s earlier collapse was only the first layer. Now, this was the final layer.
A collapse reaching deep into the soul.
He covered his face and cried.
Tears poured down.
In that moment, he cried like a child.
He was a child.
His thin wrists were bound in cuffs. The cuffs pressed red marks into his skin, and those red marks overlapped with scars that had formed and faded again and again over more than ten years.
Layered, merged, always there.
Like the bloodstains in that house.
After the collapse came quiet. After the quiet, Qi Xuan drank water. A policewoman Zhen Wuyu called in gently wiped his tear tracks, giving him a little dignity.
This was the final killing move.
Qi Xuan kept his head down. At last he set down the water cup, glanced at the policewoman’s back as she left with the towel, spaced out for a moment, then came back to himself.
“I’ve seen her.”
Liu Duan had kept calm and restrained, not interfering with Zhen Wuyu’s process. Hearing this, he straightened his back.
“Who?”
Qi Xuan said softly, “Bai Mian Chang.”
“I’ve seen her.”
“Red dress, high heels. She was tall, thin, with great presence—beautiful and heroic, like the kind of woman who could control everyone… Even if she wore a mask, I could feel it—she was nothing like my mother, that disgusting kind of woman.”
“She was too good.”
Not only Zhen Wuyu and Liu Duan inside, but everyone outside felt their scalp tighten.
So back then, Bai Mian Chang really was a woman.
And Qi Xuan had seen the real body.
“Have you seen what she looks like?” Liu Duan asked, forcing his voice not to shake.
Qi Xuan shook his head. “Where she met me was by the lake. It was snowing, very cold. The world was all white. I could see her body. I was only one or two meters from her, but she wore a mask. I didn’t dare move… but I had a feeling.”
“I should’ve seen her somewhere before.”
“Even…”
He hesitated, then looked at Zhen Wuyu.
Zhen Wuyu: “Say what you think.”
Qi Xuan: “The smell. She had perfume on her.”
“I smelled it on someone else too…”
A flash of electric light.
Zhen Wuyu suddenly thought of the alley. Back then, Qi Xuan was trying to escape his pursuit, but at the corner he was stopped. He backed up.
That backing up wasn’t the normal reaction of a runner seeing someone blocking the way—quickly changing direction to escape somewhere else.
It was terror from being intimidated. Even like a beast already tamed, facing the true king of beasts—natural fear, sinking.
In the alley, there was wind.
It carried that woman’s scent to his nose.
“Back then, I thought I saw her.”
“She was backlit, walking toward me—powerful and evil.”
“Too similar.”