Lu Zheng walked slowly to the edge of the rooftop where the victim had fallen.
His deep, sharp black eyes swept over the concrete floor inside the stone parapet, where two cigarette butts lay scattered.
They must have been put out not long ago.
Lu Zheng signaled his colleagues from the technical unit to come over, collect the butts, and seal them in evidence bags.
He then looked down at the surface of the parapet.
There were fingernail scratches on it—messy yet forceful, and angled inward, exactly the kind of marks left by someone scrambling frantically as they lost their balance during a struggle.
Lu Zheng mentally reenacted the entire sequence of Qi Sheng’s fall.
After finishing his performance, Qi Sheng had come alone to the rooftop of the old teaching building to smoke. Suddenly, the killer appeared and shoved him hard from behind.
Qi Sheng did not fall immediately. Panic took over, and he flailed wildly for purchase, his fingertips digging desperately into the rough concrete parapet, leaving clear traces of his struggle.
The assailant made no move to pull him up, simply watching as his strength gave out and he plummeted to the ground.
Lu Zheng scanned the rooftop thoroughly; the killer had left no trace behind.
Clearly, this was a premeditated murder.
The culprit was meticulous, had prepared every detail, and left no loose ends.
But—
Just as Qi Sheng fell, Wen Qingli and Ming Tang had arrived downstairs.
Wen Qingli stated that after they got there, they saw no one coming down the stairs.
Which meant the killer had not escaped via the stairwell.
Lu Zheng lifted his gaze to the outer wall beside him, where a faint abrasion mark left by rope was visible.
After committing the crime, the killer had grabbed a rope and climbed down using the exterior scaffolding.
Zhou Kai frowned tightly. “To have the rope ready, he must have scouted the place beforehand, Boss. I think the killer must be someone close to Qi Sheng—otherwise, how would he have known for sure that Qi Sheng would come to this old building’s rooftop right after his performance?”
Lu Zheng nodded, his voice low and cool. “Exactly.”
The killer was not only an acquaintance, but also someone who knew Qi Sheng’s schedule and habits very well.
This old teaching building had been abandoned for years, and the entire area was a blind spot for surveillance cameras.
Anyone fleeing the scene would naturally try to avoid being captured on camera.
But the campus was crisscrossed with paths, and avoiding every single lens would be no easy feat.
Lu Zheng headed straight for the campus security control room.
“Focus on the fifteen minutes before and after the fall. Pull footage only from cameras covering the rear of the old building, the perimeter access roads, and the shadowed blind spots.”
The officer worked quickly, sorting through and discarding irrelevant footage.
Lu Zheng calculated the timing with precision, his tone cold and crisp. “At night, visibility from exterior cameras is poor. Once he was on the ground, he would have stayed off the main paths, moving only through tree cover, along wall bases, and down unlit alleys. This person has a strong grasp of counter-surveillance.”
Following his instructions, the officer pulled up footage from the smaller side paths.
“Stop!” Lu Zheng stepped forward and pointed at one clip. “Rewind ten seconds.”
The officer did as he said.
After rewinding and zooming in, they saw a figure clad entirely in black, moving past the base of the wall.
The person wore a bucket hat, a long dark trench coat, and carried a black backpack.
As if sensing the camera, the figure glanced up.
A face mask covered most of their features, leaving only a pair of indistinct eyes visible.
Lu Zheng turned to the security guard. “Was this camera installed recently?”
The guard nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The killer must have scouted the area beforehand and knew the campus’s camera layout—he clearly had not expected this new camera to be there.
“Damn, he’s covered head to toe—we can’t make out a single thing about what he looks like!” Zhou Kai muttered under his breath.
Lu Zheng took Zhou Kai to the spot where the figure had been captured.
As they rounded a corner, they caught a whiff of acrid smoke.
“Boss, he burned whatever he had on him. He must have changed into fresh clothes and blended into the anniversary crowd.”
Lu Zheng gave a low “mm.” “We have to find him tonight. If he slips away now, tracking him down later will be far harder. What’s more, the victim is the star Qi Sheng—if we don’t solve this quickly, public opinion online will explode.”
His expression grim, Lu Zheng issued sharp orders. “Pass the word: no one leaves the premises. Deploy officers to divide the area into zones, and register and restrict three groups: event attendees, visiting alumni, and campus staff. Post guards at all exits, parking lots, and wall perimeters—no one climbs over the wall to leave!”
The officer saluted. “Yes, Captain Lu.”
After giving his instructions, Lu Zheng went to find Wen Qingli himself.
She was with Ming Tang, who had run to the trash cans to vomit several times and now sat slumped in a corner of the auditorium, drained and trembling.
Wen Qingli handed her a bottle of mineral water and pulled her gently into her arms.
“Li, this has to be a nightmare, right? When we wake up, Qi Sheng will be fine again.”
Wen Qingli patted her back softly. “Tang, it’s not a dream. Qi Sheng fell to his death.”
Ming Tang closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face.
Had she not seen it happen with her own eyes, the shock would not have been so devastating.
“Ms. Wen.”
At the sound of Lu Zheng’s voice, Wen Qingli turned around.
“Captain Lu.”
Lu Zheng explained the situation to her. Knowing that Wen Qingli was a police sketch artist on retainer, Ming Tang wiped her eyes. “Li, go—if Qi Sheng was murdered, you have to help catch who did it.”
Wen Qingli asked two other girls to stay with Ming Tang, then stood and followed Lu Zheng out.
They walked along the side path toward the control room.
Noticing how thin and fragile she looked, Lu Zheng stepped closer and wrapped his large hand around her slender, cool fingers.
She was only holding herself together—her hands were ice cold.
Wen Qingli understood what he was doing. Her long lashes fluttered, but she did not pull away as his warm hand enclosed hers.
In that moment, she needed his warmth and strength as much as anything.
It was their first time holding hands, but neither had the heart to dwell on it.
As they neared the control room, she gently pulled free, looked up at him, and said, “Thank you. I’m feeling better now.”
Lu Zheng nodded and led her inside.
At the sound of the door, Zhou Kai and the two other detectives turned to look at Wen Qingli.
She stepped up to the large monitor and studied the footage.
Lu Zheng stood beside her, his voice low and rough. “The killer is heavily disguised. All we have is this blurry shot of his eyes—it’s a long shot. Do you think you can draw a likeness?”
Inside the control room, Zhou Kai and the others gasped.
“Boss, that’s asking way too much of Ms. Wen!”
Lu Zheng shot him a sharp glance. “Quiet. Give her a minute.”
Wen Qingli rested her chin lightly on her fingertips, focusing intently on the pair of eyes in the footage.
Everyone fell silent, watching her.
Unfazed by the attention, Wen Qingli spoke after a moment without hesitation. “I can do it.”
Stunned disbelief showed on every face in the room.
Zhou Kai gave her a thumbs-up. “Ms. Wen, you’re a legend.”
She smiled faintly but said nothing.
Standing behind her, Lu Zheng’s eyes softened with quiet admiration. “Take your time. No rush.”
“Okay,” she said, picking up her sketch pencils and settling into her work.
“From what I can see,” she said, “his eyes are long and narrow, with drooping outer corners. His irises are dark, and his brow is habitually furrowed—suggesting long-term repression and a somewhat obsessive personality. I can work backward from the bone structure and muscle placement around the eyes to reconstruct the rest of his face.”
Lu Zheng watched her intently, his gaze deep and unreadable.
She looked so delicate and frail, yet there was a quiet, unshakable strength within her.
In less than forty minutes, using only that blurry image of a pair of eyes, Wen Qingli completed the full portrait.
Zhou Kai leaned in for a look—and the moment he made out the features, he let out a sharp cry of shock.
“Holy hell—it’s…”