Chapter 13

“Could it be that Huang Guojun wrote these letters to Huang Guifen before he died?” Guo Zhen, still unwilling to give up, kept reading, then shook his head. “The last letter is dated this year. Unless Huang Guojun really came back from the dead? This copycat sure is thorough—he didn’t even spare the victim’s mother.” 

Pan Chang, on the other hand, looked a little relieved.
“Good thing Huang Guifen only cared about using public opinion to ‘clear her son’s name.’ If some shady media outlet had tricked her into exposing these letters, no amount of press conferences from me would’ve been enough to squash the rumors about ghost murders!”

“Someone as greedy as Huang Guifen not choosing to expose these letters is to be expected,” Lin Jiafan clearly had his own take on the matter.

The fact that she didn’t report these letters to the police the moment she received them already says a lot. She was probably focused on what kind of benefit she could gain from this bizarre situation. So when she confirmed that the crimes described in the letters had actually happened, she rushed to the Public Security Bureau to stir up trouble—demanding a whopping five million in compensation.

“Look here. This letter is dated September 3rd, which was the day of the first copycat murder. The writer clearly confesses to the crime in the letter and claims they were simply completing unfinished business.”

“However, since the Bureau had deliberately kept certain key details from the public, Huang Guifen didn’t make any moves before she could be sure the letter was genuine.”

“Then, on the night of September 8th, a media outlet broke the agreement and leaked part of the case in their report. And on September 9th—yesterday—she received another letter. Once again, the killer admitted to committing a new murder and even described the approximate location of the crime scene. That’s when Huang Guifen finally made up her mind to come to the station and cause a scene.”

After listening to Lin Jiafan’s detailed analysis, both Guo Zhen and Pan Chang couldn’t help but click their tongues in shock.

“She’s not even worried that the person writing these letters might be a total psycho? Just because someone calls her ‘Mom’ a few times, she thinks that’s really her son? Any normal person’s first reaction to something like this would be to call the police! Or at the very least hire an exorcist or something!” Pan Chang’s words were crude, but not unreasonable. His thin face was filled with disdain.

“If she were a normal person, would she be secretly recording customers at work in broad daylight?” Lin Jiafan stood up and looked toward a man and woman nearby. “Who has time to go downstairs with me to deal with Huang Guifen?”

“Too bad Director Zhang just texted me. He wants to see me after the meeting to discuss the online public opinion strategy moving forward,” Pan Chang said regretfully.

Guo Zhen, on the other hand, agreed readily. “Captain Lin, I’ll go with you. I don’t have anything going on now that the autopsy’s done.”

Unexpectedly, Pang Guangbuyi—who had been busy working in front of his computer—suddenly spoke up. “Hey, don’t leave me behind! I just ordered an iced Americano to wake myself up, and my computer’s crunching some critical data right now. I can’t step away!”

Guo Zhen and Pan Chang responded to his shamelessness with nothing but cold, dismissive looks, while Lin Jiafan, just about to leave, turned back and pointed toward the couch.

“I’m sure Coach Luo won’t mind helping you out with this small favor.”

With that, the office door slammed shut.

“Tch.” Pang Guangbuyi peeked his head out from behind the monitor and gave a slightly sympathetic look to the still-dazed Luo Jingyao. But his words didn’t hold back:

“Because of our special line of work, food delivery personnel aren’t allowed inside. All orders are dropped off at the gate. Would you mind picking it up for me, Coach Luo? The order ends in 7389.”

Taking a deep breath, she said nothing and left the office. Spending 1,688 yuan so impulsively had been her own fault, and since Lin Jiafan firmly refused to take her money, this was the least she could do to make herself feel a bit better.

Luo Jingyao didn’t feel there was anything wrong with his attitude either.
After all, if you looked at it a certain way—1,688 yuan a day was far better pay than what she used to earn fighting in underground matches.

After successfully retrieving Pang Guangbuyi’s iced coffee, Luo Jingyao walked into the office only to find that something seemed off about him. His brows were so tightly furrowed they could almost crush a fly, and he was sighing heavily as he stared at his laptop screen.

Luo Jingyao walked over to the young man and gently placed the iced Americano on the corner of his desk. She cautiously asked,
“What’s wrong? Is your computer acting up?”

Without even looking up, Pang Guangbuyi shook his head.
“Nope, the computer’s fine. And my code is flawless. So where’s the problem? The connection between the two victims is still a complete blank. I’ve checked every fitness-related place possible—got nothing!”

“…” That was definitely above Luo Jingyao’s current pay grade. She quietly took a step back, thinking she might as well go back to her corner on the couch.

But just then, a report near Pang Guangbuyi’s hand caught her eye.
She inadvertently saw the photos of the two victims.

They were such bright, youthful smiling faces…

Feeling a wave of pity, Luo Jingyao pressed her lips together. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head.

“Since Officer Pang is so confident in his tech skills, could we maybe look into their social media accounts?”

“Of course we can!” Pang Guangbuyi puffed up his chest, then seemed to understand her angle.
“Oh? You mean to investigate their lives from a digital trail perspective? Yeah, there might be some breadcrumbs they left online!”

No sooner said than done. His slender, nimble fingers flew over the keyboard, almost leaving afterimages. In no time, two windows popped up on the screen.

He eagerly skimmed through the content, but quickly slumped in disappointment.

“Looks like both of them were the low-sharing type. So much for documenting life anytime, anywhere. Hey… maybe that’s a common trait?”

“Hmm…” Luo Jingyao responded uncertainly. Then she pointed at the screen, directing the young man to scroll all the way down on the first victim Zhuo Meiling’s profile.

“Is it just me, or did Miss Zhuo look significantly chubbier six months ago?”

“You’re not imagining it.” Pang Guangbuyi checked the latest ID photo provided by her employer.
“That was taken just a few days before she went missing.”

Luo Jingyao’s eyes shifted to the slightly round face of the second victim, Gong Lingling. She hesitantly asked,
“Have you looked into weight-loss boot camps? Logically, those places would also stock things like magnesium powder.”

“Huh?” Pang Guangbuyi blinked in confusion.
“I’ve already investigated every licensed business or shop related to fitness, even ones that just sell equipment or protein powder.”

At this, Luo Jingyao hesitated before explaining carefully,
“Well… from what I know, the government has strict regulations on weight-loss camps, but because the industry is so lucrative, a lot of shady operators get into the game.”

“In reality, many of those camps aren’t properly licensed. Some disguise themselves as beauty salons, some pose as healthy meal prep services, others claim to offer lodging, and some don’t even bother with permits at all. Most consumers don’t realize the risks—they’re just lured in by flashy advertising.”

“Wait, they can do that?” Pang Guangbuyi was clearly inspired, immediately launching a fresh round of searches.

As he typed away, he couldn’t help asking,
“How do you know so much about this industry, Coach Luo?”

A great question!

Luo Jingyao turned her head slightly, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“After I retired, I briefly worked at a place like that as a coach.”

Let’s just say it was a bad connection—someone had talked her into it. After a few days of realizing things were off, she bailed.

Pang Guangbuyi didn’t press for more. Instead, he buried himself in his screen, laser-focused.

Time passed.

Luo Jingyao even took a nap on the couch. Finally, as dusk began to fall outside, the young man suddenly stood up and slammed his palm onto the desk.

“Ha! You’re so clever—but I still got you!”

Luo Jingyao snapped awake, ready to ask what he meant, but a male voice from the door cut her off.

“What did you catch?”

A second later, Guo Zhen entered the office, followed by Lin Jiafan, who had also returned.

“The link between the two victims!” Pang Guangbuyi all but ran up to them, excitement radiating off him.

“I couldn’t have found it without Coach Luo’s tip!”

“After getting nowhere, I decided to dig through all their recorded transaction histories. That’s when I found that the first victim, Zhuo Meiling, spent exactly 28,888 yuan at a beauty clinic called Slim & Shine around six months ago.”

“The second victim also spent exactly 28,888 yuan—just a month ago—at a nutrition coaching service called LiteLife Meals. That number’s got to mean something, right? But here’s the real kicker—both businesses are owned by the same person!”

Pang Guangbuyi proudly handed Lin Jiafan a freshly printed document.

“From now on, you better start calling me ‘Genius.’”

“Nice work this time!” Guo Zhen gave him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. He then updated them on the Huang Guifen situation.

“She says she has no idea who’s been writing the letters. Each one was clipped to her door handle, and she’s never had direct contact with the sender. She actually seems to be telling the truth.”

“As for the case about her secretly filming customers to make money, Captain Lin is planning to hand her over to the Criminal Investigation Division. We’ll see what they dig up before making any decisions.”

Naturally, Pang Guangbuyi had no objections.

Lin Jiafan had already finished going through all the new data and, after a short moment of hesitation, pulled out his phone. He dialed one of the numbers listed on the document—one that belonged to the owner of both suspicious businesses.

As soon as the call connected, Lin Jiafan walked over to the sofa and, without saying a word, held the phone right in front of Luo Jingyao’s face.

Hearing the dial tone in her ear, Luo Jingyao’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief.

One thousand six hundred eighty-eight.

She instantly understood the silent movement of Lin Jiafan’s lips—“1688.”
Resigned, she took the phone.

At that moment, a suspicious voice came through the receiver:

“Hello? Who is this?”