Chapter 2: The Central Park Murder Case (2)

If Lin Feng lost, Wu Zui would seize the chance to mock him for days. If Xiao Ke’ai lost, it would be the perfect excuse to keep her in the bureau to recover, sparing her from causing trouble elsewhere.

“No matter who wins or loses, I don’t lose out!” Wu Zui thought to himself.

“Alright then, you go first!” Lin Feng, seeing how impervious Wu Zui was to persuasion, shrugged and moved to a more spacious area, beckoning to Xiao Ke’ai.

“Here I come!” Xiao Ke’ai’s expression turned serious. She launched a side kick with her right leg aimed at Lin Feng’s chest.

Lin Feng dodged sideways, holding back from counterattacking out of consideration that she was a woman. Instead, he grabbed her right leg with both hands, intending to throw her to the ground and give her a dose of reality.

But the moment Lin Feng caught her leg, Xiao Ke’ai’s face changed. Her pretty face hardened, and, using the leverage of Lin Feng’s grip, she snapped her left foot up, aiming for Lin Feng’s armpit.

There was a dull thud. The instant he was struck, Lin Feng felt half his body go numb, his arms suddenly powerless, and he couldn’t help but let go of Xiao Ke’ai’s leg.

As soon as Lin Feng released her, Xiao Ke’ai quickly spun to his right side and delivered a low kick to the back of his knee, sending Lin Feng sprawling face-first to the ground. The entire fight lasted less than thirty seconds.

Just as Xiao Ke’ai lunged forward to finish him off, Wu Zui hurriedly called out, “Stop!”

Xiao Ke’ai halted her right heel less than ten centimeters from Lin Feng’s lower back, right over a critical pressure point. If she’d landed the kick, at best Lin Feng wouldn’t be able to get up for half a day—at worst, he’d need a doctor.

“Master, he bullied me! On TV, only perverts touch girls’ legs!” Xiao Ke’ai retracted her foot and hurried to Wu Zui’s side, shaking his arm as if deeply wronged, her face the picture of grievance.

Wu Zui glanced at the colleagues who’d been watching, who quickly dispersed back to work. Then he looked at Lin Feng, who was still prone on the ground, yet to get up.

He wondered if Xiao Ke’ai had misunderstood the definition of bullying.

At the sound of Xiao Ke’ai’s coquettish complaints, Lin Feng himself began to question whether he, too, had misunderstood what it meant to bully someone.

Wu Zui went over, helped Lin Feng up, and asked, “How are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Lin Feng said through gritted teeth. Even if he wasn’t, he couldn’t admit it. To be beaten up by such a cute girl—if word got out, he’d never live it down.

Wu Zui, seeing the cold sweat on Lin Feng’s brow, guessed that Xiao Ke’ai hadn’t held back on either of those kicks. He said, “I’ll take her to see Zhong Yuyu. You go check on Song Shuxian, see if there are any clues at her place.”

“Thank you, Master! You’re the best!” Xiao Ke’ai cheered, instantly perking up.

“Old Wu, don’t the two of them live together?” Lin Feng ignored Xiao Ke’ai and addressed Wu Zui.

“No, they’ve been going through a divorce for a while now. Don’t you follow the news? Zhong Yuyu claims his wife cheated on him during their marriage—he wants to give her a sum of money in exchange for her agreement to divorce.”

Wu Zui was a bit surprised—what did Lin Feng do with his time, anyway?

“Oh, alright. I’ll go check on Song Shuxian at the hospital. You’d better get going,” Lin Feng said as he found a chair and sat down.

“Master, what case are we working on?” While Wu Zui and Lin Feng were talking, Xiao Ke’ai had already packed up her notebook and stowed it in her white backpack. She clung to Wu Zui’s sleeve, afraid he might slip away.

“Murder case…”

“Wow, Master, who’s the killer? Are we going to—”

Lin Feng listened as their voices faded into the distance, guessing that they’d already left the floor. Only then did he grit his teeth and return to his own office.

“Damn, she looks so cute, but goes for blood!” Lin Feng admitted he’d been careless, thinking a woman would be easy to handle. He hadn’t expected that just grabbing her ankle would provoke such a reaction.

“Damn…” The pain where he’d been struck kept increasing—he was probably already bruised. Lin Feng couldn’t help but groan, quickly messaging his loyal colleague to fetch some liniment and sending someone to keep an eye on Song Shuxian at the hospital.

He understood Wu Zui’s intention—he was worried someone might make another attempt on Song Shuxian.

...

Outside the Detective Bureau entrance.

Wu Zui and Xiao Ke’ai emerged just as the traffic squad arrived to deliver his ticket. The situation grew a bit awkward. After a brief greeting, Wu Zui hurried away with Xiao Ke’ai.

He drove his black SUV, which had just been returned, and took Xiao Ke’ai directly to Zhong Yuyu’s villa. After showing their detective IDs and contacting Zhong Yuyu’s butler, the security at the gate let them in.

Wu Zui took in his surroundings, noting that the villa housed quite a few people. Unfortunately, they all seemed like amateurs, probably newcomers to the world of private security. Wu Zui wondered if Zhong Yuyu was too stingy to hire professionals or if he’d simply been conned.

Xiao Ke’ai, by contrast, was wholly unimpressed—this place couldn’t compare to her own home.

Once inside the main building, the butler led them to Zhong Yuyu. He looked to be in his thirties, with a straight posture and a lively air about him. Compared to the youthful, twenty-four-year-old Song Shuxian, he was the epitome of the older husband and younger wife dynamic.

“Mr. Zhong, we’re here to ask about your wife’s situation. You must know the person who attacked your wife and son was a mercenary. Have you offended anyone recently?” Wu Zui asked after a pause.

Because when he saw Zhong Yuyu, he was startled by the sight above the man’s head: a faint gray mist more than a foot high, within which a streak of ink-black smoke writhed.

“Thank goodness the black isn’t too dense, or I’d have passed out again,” Wu Zui thought.

He focused on Zhong Yuyu, and a web of cause and effect unfolded in his mind…

In Zhong Yuyu’s memory, the setting was an abandoned hospital’s operating room. The corridor walls were yellowed and peeling, but the medical equipment looked new.

“Please… I beg you… Let me go… Let my child go!” A woman in a white maternity gown, her face streaked with tears, was tied to the operating table, pleading desperately.

“Don’t worry. As long as you cooperate, give me your child, I’ll give you enough money afterward to live a life of luxury abroad,” replied a man, his tone coaxing. Wu Zui recognized him as Zhong Yuyu.

“No! I don’t want your money… Please, don’t take my child… Help! Somebody help!” The woman struggled on the table, the restraints digging bloody grooves into her flesh, but she kept fighting.

“Enough noise… Dr. Mo, you’re finally here! Hurry up with the operation. I’ll make sure your three million is transferred once it’s done.” Zhong Yuyu’s voice grew impatient as a new face appeared.

A middle-aged woman in surgical scrubs entered—Dr. Mo, as Zhong Yuyu called her. She conducted her checks as usual, then addressed him: “Mr. Zhong, let’s be clear. She’s in bad shape. There’s a high risk of postpartum hemorrhage—this could be a life at stake.”

“I only need the child. Take your money and do your job! I want results,” Zhong Yuyu replied coldly, fixing the doctor with an unfriendly stare.

“You—!” Dr. Mo was furious.

But she quickly composed herself and prepared to begin the operation. Zhong Yuyu’s memory skipped over the actual surgery, but soon Dr. Mo delivered the outcome.

The mother died of massive bleeding.

A healthy baby boy was born.

Zhong Yuyu showed no emotion, as indifferent as if a chicken destined for the pot had died. He spoke coldly to Dr. Mo: “I’ll take care of it. You can go now.”

Then came the image of Zhong Yuyu and another woman dumping the mother’s corpse into the sea off Binhai City. Wu Zui felt a chill, and the memory ended there.

Next came another scene: Yan Junhao, the man Wu Zui had just seen in a photograph, appeared in his vision.

Wu Zui hesitated. He already knew the reason behind the black smoke over Zhong Yuyu’s head, and didn’t want to delve further, as it would take a toll on his health.

But since Yan Junhao had appeared, he had no choice but to press on.

...

Soon Wu Zui’s head began to spin, and he stopped probing further. Though the process felt laborious, it all happened in an instant. At that moment, Wu Zui was still showing his detective ID to Zhong Yuyu, appearing to conduct a routine inquiry.

Zhong Yuyu glanced at the badge, his face scornful, his tone tinged with annoyance: “Detective Wu, let’s be clear—I’m a law-abiding businessman. How could I have anything to do with mercenaries, the dregs of society?”

Xiao Ke’ai curled her lip—it was obvious even to her that Zhong Yuyu was lying. As for Wu Zui, who had seen Zhong Yuyu’s crimes firsthand, his disgust only deepened.

“Then, Mr. Zhong, do you know this man?” Wu Zui took out a photo of Yan Junhao, his tone perfunctory, as if going through the motions. The shift in his demeanor did not escape Xiao Ke’ai’s notice.

In truth, Wu Zui was already running low on energy. He felt as if he hadn’t slept all night—his whole body felt weak.

Zhong Yuyu’s pupils contracted for a split second, and his right hand trembled involuntarily before he quickly folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know him. Why would I know any mercenaries?”

“Mr. Zhong, I never said he was a mercenary,” Wu Zui replied, shaking the photo for emphasis.

Perhaps because of insurance regulations, all the Wild Wolf Mercenaries wore matching suits and ties in their photos, looking more like office workers than anything else.

“My company’s business is vast. Would I bother lying to a minor detective? Let me remind you, just two days ago I was having tea with your provincial deputy director.” Zhong Yuyu rolled his eyes and, nostrils flaring, smiled at Wu Zui in thinly veiled threat.