Who would break into their home and kill a kind woman with no enemies?
He lost his appetite, couldn’t sleep, often curled on her side of the bed, afraid to probe his suspicions.
But body and heart began instinctively distancing.
Song Zichu watched it all, playing the sweet child outwardly while dark malice brewed inside.
…
Dai Linxuan said, “The night Song Zichu murdered his foster mother, he recorded the whole thing—for whatever reason.”
Lai Li knew why: to savor, commemorate, possess proof.
Dai Linxuan continued, “He deliberately left the footage where his foster father would find it, alongside another video.”
Dai Linxuan would never forget it.
The video opened in darkness: the man, drowning sorrows in drink, returned to an empty home—no wife’s smiling welcome, no baby’s cries.
Dazed, he called for his foster son, asking if he was hungry, if he’d eaten. No reply. On the table sat an unfamiliar unlocked phone.
Compelled, he swiped it open to a video: his sleeping wife and child, and Song Zichu—
[Song Zichu fiddled with the charcoal brazier, smiling at the camera as he explained the dangers of inhaling fumes, how long before undiscovered death. His foster father was working overtime at the factory—no one would check.
“Me?” Song Zichu muttered to the lens. “I’m not human… I’m just a cricket.”]
The foster father froze like he’d been petrified, staring as his mind screamed and wailed—mouth silent, body shuddering uncontrollably…
At the end, the video demon’s voice merged with reality: “This is my tenth birthday gift to myself.”
The man saw Song Zichu appear, emitting a shrill, whimpering wail.
Song Zichu delivered the final blow, in gentle innocent tones: “My first little brother was so playful. I just opened the window, and he curiously climbed out—no need for me to push.”
“You killed him.”
“You already had me. Why have him?”
“Wasn’t I good enough?”
…
Dai Linxuan said, “That very night, his foster father died from mixing cephalosporin with alcohol postmortem. Since his wife and child had just passed, everyone thought he’d chosen suicide in despair.”
None of this surprised Lai Li.
He pushed off his brother’s legs and slowly stood. “Bro, where’d you get the video from?”
He understood people like Song Zichu… It wasn’t strange for him to film a video as a memento, but he would definitely keep it close. Song Zichu had long been under his control, so how had Dai Linxuan obtained this incriminating evidence?
He vaguely felt like he had overlooked something, forgotten something, but without that crucial anchor, he couldn’t recall it no matter how hard he tried.
He couldn’t help but knock on his throbbing head, but in the next second, his brother grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a tight embrace. His brother’s voice came through like it was muffled by a fog, unusually hazy: “Lai Li?”
“Lai Li! What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
“Look at me, look at Brother…” Dai Linxuan’s face blurred indistinctly, as if eroded by black mist. “Don’t bite your lip, shh, shh… It’s okay. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
Lai Li actually wanted to vent his discomfort through some other violent means, but he knew who the person in front of him was.
The other man wasn’t afraid of him at all and directly pressed him into his arms. The familiar body heat gradually seeped into his body, producing a miraculous soothing effect.
Lai Li clutched his brother’s clothes tightly, his chest heaving violently, unable to calm down for a long time.
When he came back to his senses, a long time had passed.
Outside the visitation room, Jin Ming was talking with his colleagues and was about to head their way.
Lai Li’s expression froze, and he instinctively pulled away.
Dai Linxuan poured him another cup of hot water and wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead: “If you’re not feeling well, we’ll go home.”
“No need… I’ll listen to you.” Lai Li’s voice was very hoarse. “Brother, I believe you.”
“Good.” Dai Linxuan’s fingertip slid down, lightly brushing his face. “While you were out of it earlier, I went to check on Song Zichu. I was worried he’d starve to death if you took him away and no one looked after him. I found the video at his old place…”
As Dai Linxuan spoke, dim images flashed back in Lai Li’s mind—he was in a dark rental room, lifting the corner of a floor tile and picking up something.
Lai Li furrowed his brow and pressed his temple.
Dai Linxuan said, “Lai Li, if you believe me, can you wait outside for me?”
Lai Li suddenly grabbed his hand: “No.”
Dai Linxuan squatted down and placed his hand on Lai Li’s leg: “I guarantee I won’t slander myself.”
Lai Li said irritably, “Then why won’t you let me listen?”
After a long stare-down, Lai Li understood his brother’s meaning—his current state wasn’t suitable for listening.
Jin Ming happened to push the door open, unaware of what had transpired in the visitation room in that short half-hour: “Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you two done chatting?”
Lai Li’s chest felt like a wild beast was rampaging inside, with no outlet, filled with frustration and pent-up agitation.
In the end, he still followed Dai Linxuan’s words. Before leaving, he looked at Jin Ming: “Got a smoke?”
Jin Ming pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and handed them to Lai Li: “Remember to give it back.”
After seeing Lai Li leave the room, Jin Ming turned his gaze back: “Can you tell me what’s going on now?”
Dai Linxuan looked at him without a smile and brought up something else instead: “You went to He Chengze’s sixtieth birthday party a while back, right?”
Jin Ming didn’t deny it: “I thought you didn’t see me—when the head of a medical empire sends me an invitation, I can’t very well ignore it.”
Dai Linxuan: “What do you want?”
“Me? Let me think… As a criminal police officer, of course I want fewer criminal cases, a bit more peace in the world, and justice for every victim…” Jin Ming leaned back and laughed. “Sounds too lofty, huh?”
Dai Linxuan watched him for a moment, then took out his phone, pulled up a video, and slid it across the table—
“Song Zichu is my father’s illegitimate son who was left out in the world.” Dai Linxuan dropped this bombshell in a calm tone. “Not many people know about it, so I hope you’ll keep it confidential.”
He had long felt a faint sense of familiarity with Song Zichu. Connecting that to his upbringing in the Slum District, the rest wasn’t hard to infer.
He hadn’t planned to hide it from Lai Li, but today clearly wasn’t the right time to reveal it.
After the shock, Jin Ming mulled it over: “With your personality, if you’re telling me, you probably don’t care if I keep it secret or not.”
“Don’t act like we’re close.” Dai Linxuan said mildly, “My brother won’t be happy.”
“…” Jin Ming tsked lightly. “CEO Dai really dotes on his brother endlessly, huh? Just watching him block me like that?”
“Contacting my assistant won’t work either.” Dai Linxuan got back to the point. “Things have been messy at home lately. I don’t want Song Zichu used by those relatives with ulterior motives, so I protected him.”
Jin Ming casually clicked play on the video, noncommittal: “Protected him?”
“Of course.” Dai Linxuan said. “I suspect someone deliberately arranged for him to approach my brother and become his roommate, so I created the illusion of his disappearance to lure out the person behind it—until I discovered some things he’d done before.”
“What…”
Jin Ming’s voice cut off abruptly, his brows knitting into a deep furrow. In the video, Song Zichu’s voice echoed clearly in the visitation room—
“In an enclosed space, burning charcoal can cause acute carbon monoxide poisoning. High concentrations can kill in just thirty minutes…”
Song Zichu’s tone was calm and gentle, as if he were simply giving a lesson or sharing knowledge. Behind him, however, a mother and child slept soundly, oblivious to the impending danger.
…
By the end, Jin Ming was speechless for a long while: “What a fucking… beast.”
Dai Linxuan curled his fingers and lightly knocked on the table: “I can hand Song Zichu over to you.”
Jin Ming lifted his eyelids: “No other conditions?”
“How could there be?” Dai Linxuan said. “Cooperating with the police and reporting criminal leads is the duty of every citizen.”
“…”
When Dai Linxuan came out, he saw Lai Li standing in the howling cold night wind, biting down on the cigarette.
It wasn’t lit.
“Why are you standing here? Your hands are freezing.” Dai Linxuan grasped Lai Li’s hand, then pinched the end of the cigarette with his other hand. “Open up.”
Lai Li obediently released his teeth.
Though he hadn’t actually smoked it, the cigarette butt was wet from Lai Li’s mouth. Dai Linxuan rubbed his thumb over it impassively: “Let’s go. Time to head home.”
Lai Li hummed in agreement and followed his steps.
As Dai Linxuan descended the steps, he let go, and the cigarette fell into the trash bin. He glanced back slightly, catching Jin Ming at the police station entrance.
Jin Ming watched them leave, slowly narrowing his eyes.
A colleague walked over: “Boss, your lighter.”
Jin Ming took it, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag: “Rich families sure have a lot of drama… Hey, don’t you think there’s something off about those two brothers?”
“What kind of off? You’re seeing gay sparks everywhere.” The colleague said grumpily, “Hurry up and take your crippled ass back to rest. Want me to drive you?”
