Even if Jiang Xiaoyu could uphold the justice in his heart, the emotions of ordinary people could still be stirred up.
Clearly, the rabbit in the video was doing the exact same horrific and bloody things, yet in the minds of the online masses, he had already become the embodiment of justice. The social impact of this incident was so severe that even the higher-ups had taken notice.
All online videos had been sealed off. Jiang Xiaoyu hunched over his desk, repeatedly reviewing the archived footage in the police station.
“Here, take a break.” Lu Wanhui handed over a can of soda dripping with condensation.
Jiang Xiaoyu thanked him, pressed his thumb against the tab, and popped it open with a hiss: “Has cyber security traced the IP address of the video poster?”
“No, it’s a virtual IP showing up in different foreign locations. We have reason to suspect it’s the same person who uploaded the previous videos.”
“Have we found Ding Zhiman?”
“Yeah, the body’s right there in the warehouse from the live stream. The corpse is intact, no dismemberment or dissection or anything like that.”
Seeing Jiang Xiaoyu’s brows furrowed the whole time, Lu Wanhui followed his gaze to the Rabbit Head Man on the computer screen and shared the info currently available from criminal technology: “The shoe size collected from the warehouse is between 40-42, height roughly 172 to 175 cm. We’ve already had someone pull all nearby surveillance and screen for matching individuals.”
Zhang Pangpang had arrested the suspect in his case and, now with some free time, leaned over to chime in: “This guy’s feet aren’t big, and he’s not tall either. Should be pretty easy to screen.”
Jiang Xiaoyu gripped the soda can, tapping his finger twice on the chilled surface before countering: “Why assume it’s a guy?”
Zhang Pangpang was taken aback: “So many cases, all the victims male, and the dismemberment and dissection were clean and precise—must take some strength. We can basically rule out women, right?”
Lu Wanhui shot a glance at the chubby guy: “Criminal tech side thinks male is more likely too.”
That made sense… Jiang Xiaoyu pondered inwardly.
Generally speaking, adult males had about 50% more upper body strength than females of the same age, and 30-40% more lower body strength. Under the same weight, males clearly had superior stamina and explosive power. Plus, among the victims were some very burly guys, and no drug-related causes of death were found in their bodies. It was hard to imagine a woman subduing them relying solely on her own strength.
But Jiang Xiaoyu still felt something off: “Even so, we should prioritize checking women too. Tall with big feet—those traits would stand out even more on a woman.”
Lu Wanhui didn’t think it was a big deal: “Naturally. Criminal tech will check them one by one.”
The video played back to the part where the Rabbit Head Man held the syringe close to Ding Zhiman. Listening to that mechanical voice spout seductive words, Jiang Xiaoyu suddenly seemed to notice something unusual. He dragged the progress bar back and replayed that segment.
Lu Wanhui was extremely sharp. In the midst of the repeated words, he locked eyes with Jiang Xiaoyu—they both clearly knew the other had spotted the exact same thing.
“You heard it?”
“You thought of it?”
They spoke at the same time.
Zhang Pangpang, hearing their cryptic exchange and seeing the serious look on Jiang Xiaoyu’s face, felt left out and wailed: “What? What? What riddle are you two playing? What’s wrong with it?”
Jiang Xiaoyu tapped a few keys and said: “Listen carefully.”
In response to Ding Zhiman’s excuses on screen, the Rabbit Head Man said: “Hahaha, audience, he says it wasn’t intentional! Abandoning his wife and kid wasn’t intentional, not euthanizing the lab dogs wasn’t intentional, using the dog meat money to buy bags for his mistress wasn’t intentional.”
Zhang Pangpang listened a few times and, aside from finding the Rabbit Head Man’s mechanical voice creepy, heard nothing amiss: “What’s wrong with this?”
Lu Wanhui tsked, his glance at Zhang Pangpang clearly laced with disdain. Jiang Xiaoyu patiently explained: “Ding Zhiman said he didn’t intentionally skip euthanizing the dogs. What was the Rabbit Head Man’s first reaction?”
Zhang Pangpang: “Call out to the audience?”
Jiang Xiaoyu: “Right, his first instinct was to shout to the audience on screen, like he needed their opinions, needed them to follow along. But that’s not the main point—the key is what came right after.”
Zhang Pangpang murmured along: “Abandoning his wife and kid wasn’t intentional?”
“Exactly. From normal human logic, the guy was defending on the lab dog euthanasia, but the Rabbit Head Man’s first retort was about abandoning wife and child, then the lab dogs, and the third one looped back to family stuff.”
Zhang Pangpang wasn’t actually dumb; he just needed someone to guide his thinking. Once Jiang Xiaoyu led him through it, enlightenment dawned: “This Rabbit Head Man must have some connection to the victim’s family!”
Lu Wanhui snapped his fingers: “I’ll get someone to check Ding Zhiman’s family situation.” He flashed a toothy grin: “Especially the ex-wife and kids and such.”
—
Lu Wanhui had been acting strange lately. Whenever he had a spare moment from the case, he’d sneak over to Jiang Xiaoyu and pry with all sorts of weird questions.
“How do you know for sure you like him and he likes you back?”
Jiang Xiaoyu had never met such a thick-skinned person. Not long ago, this guy had pointed at his nose and called him a vixen, and now here he was, grinning like they were best buds.
He half-lowered his eyes, looking at Lu Wanhui’s slightly anxious expression. Out of kindness, he didn’t snap back, just thought for a moment before saying after a long pause: “I can’t put it into words. It’s just a feeling.”
Lu Wanhui was a top student academically and considered himself quick on the uptake. Eager for advice, he asked: “What kind of feeling?”
“I don’t know… just a feeling…” One where he could safely shift into cat form, get mad and bite, mess up his desk, and he’d pretend to swat his butt, then he’d bite back—endlessly doing brainless, meaningless things back and forth.
“It’s that when you’re with him, whether reading a book or stargazing, you feel like no one in the world could make you feel this safe. It’s mutual—you don’t need to confirm it. You just know.” Jiang Xiaoyu packed up his things to clock out, saying casually: “Maybe that’s intuition.”
The question fizzled out, but after a few repeats of the scene, Jiang Xiaoyu started catching on. He wasn’t dumb—his instincts about feelings were even pretty sharp. Before, he’d thought Lu Wanhui was just domineering, wanting to monopolize the disciple spot under Jin Ge. Now he saw it: this guy harbored a bit of different affection toward Jin Ge.
On one hand, he felt Lu Wanhui might be barking up the wrong tree; on the other, he worried a little for Jin Ge, thinking it might be better for someone to accompany him through the second half of his life than living out this self-punishing isolation.
Lost in thoughts of those two, he walked all the way to the parking lot. Before reaching his car, he spotted a figure standing off to the side—Sun Kexin from criminal investigation, the one who used to pick on him. Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t think much of it and unlocked his car to get in.
“Officer Jiang!” Seeing him ignore her, she hurriedly called out.
Jiang Xiaoyu rested a hand on the car door, his tone puzzled: “Something wrong?”
Pine City had cooled down a bit. Jiang Xiaoyu, who was especially afraid of the cold, was wearing a baseball jacket—who knew who bought it for him. But Sun Kexin in front of him was in a strapless dress. She tucked her long hair behind her neck and said softly: “My car’s broken down. Could you give me a ride?”
In her eyes, Jiang Xiaoyu was the taciturn type who never talked much, took scoldings without retorting, just silently enduring. So she figured he’d agree. Who knew he’d say: “No, I drive slow. I’d be nervous with you in the passenger seat.”
Sun Kexin paused, then smiled: “It’s fine, I’m not in a hurry. We can go slow, chat a bit. Don’t be nervous—I don’t bite.”
As she spoke, she kept sweeping her hair back and forth, a fragrance wafting from the strands. Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t like the smell and refused outright: “No, my dad’s waiting at home for dinner. I need to get back early.”
Sun Kexin was still striking a pose, hand at her collarbone, but her face stiffened at that. Then, remembering something, she switched to a smile and asked: “Your dad—is that Mr. Wan Keyao?”
Even though he and Wan Keyao hadn’t publicly acknowledged their relationship yet, everyone knew Wan Qianli was his grandfather. Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t deny it. Worried it’d drag on forever, he nodded and moved to get in the car.
Seeing him ready to leave without another word, Sun Kexin swallowed her anger, forced a smile, and asked again: “I don’t live far. Could you just drop me off?” After saying that, she stepped forward to grab his arm, but he subtly dodged.
Jiang Xiaoyu said earnestly: “I told you it’s not convenient. If it’s not far, why not walk? Or take a cab?”
Sun Kexin’s face went pale with anger. She hadn’t expected Jiang Xiaoyu to be so oblivious—not picking up on her obvious hints. But eyeing the sports car beside them and thinking of his family background, she held back her displeasure, pointed her high-heeled ankle forward to draw his eye: “But these heels are too high. And for a girl taking a cab alone, it’s not safe. Just give me a ride, okay?”
She was pretty in a delicate way and had deliberately dolled herself up, figuring it was a sure bet with a little fledgling like this. Little did she know that Jiang Xiaoyu had a cat’s brain—his eyes only had room for that lotus-scented big white cat. How could he possibly notice anyone else?
“Not happening.” Jiang Xiaoyu stated righteously, “My driving skills suck. It’d be even less safe with you riding along.” With that, he hunched down and slipped into the car, flooring the gas and speeding off.
Sun Kexin stood there dumbfounded, watching the navy-blue sports car roar away from sight. Her face paled with anger as she viciously kicked the curb. “If it weren’t for your damn family background, who’d bother talking to a loser like you?”
Ye Qingxu was someone who did care—a lot. He scooped more food onto the Cat Cub’s plate. “Why the serious face?”
Jiang Xiaoyu sat in his baby chair with a red checkered bib tied around his neck. Looking troubled, he recounted the parking lot incident to his daddy. The Little Black Cat felt more and more aggrieved the more he thought about it. “I don’t like her. She used to curse at me, and Lu Wanhui did too.”
He might not bring it up or hold a grudge, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten. How could those people so casually forget how they’d hurt him before? One after another, coming over to pry and poke—Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t like any of them.
Hearing this, Ye Qingxu felt both heartbroken and gratified. Heartbroken over the kid’s past ordeals, gratified that the kid was finally venting to him now. He scooped the little cat into his arms, wiping the soup from the corners of his mouth with a tissue. Coaxing gently, he said, “Then don’t like them. Daddy doesn’t like them either. Next time they come bothering you, just turn them down flat. No one gets to bully our baby!”
After a few coaxing words, Jiang Xiaoyu’s aggrieved look faded, replaced by a touch of embarrassment. Just as he was about to wriggle out of Ye Qingxu’s arms, the doorbell rang from outside the courtyard. Ye Qingxu carried him to answer the door. When he saw the elegant, tall figure standing there, that freshly suppressed grievance bubbled right back up. With a meow, he stretched out his paw toward Ye Lian:
“They bullied the cat!”
