Chapter 4 This Young Master of the Sheng Family…

Sheng Fang was so startled that his little mouth remained agape, his eyes darting around.

Perhaps Daddy hadn’t hired a female bodyguard, but a fortune-telling master instead—except she hadn’t even begun to count on her fingers yet!

The Mid-Levels terrain was as confusing as a maze. After being led by Young Master Sheng past the third fountain, Zhu Qing finally reached their destination.

Having guarded the Mid-Levels for over a decade, veteran employee Uncle Lin had become quite the old hand. The sound of approaching footsteps only lulled him deeper into sleep, until Zhu Qing rapped her police badge against the table corner three times, startling him awake. Smacking his lips, he reluctantly bid farewell to the Duke of Zhou in his dreams.

“West Kowloon CID.”

“Have you heard about the Sheng family’s White Bone Case?”

Young Master Sheng’s eyes widened—the female bodyguard was actually a policewoman?

Uncle Lin: “Madam, please have a seat and take your time.”

He stood up, offering the comfortable swivel chair to Zhu Qing while pulling out a plastic stool for himself, casually picking up his tea-stained thermos cup.

The next moment, the short-legged young master climbed onto the swivel chair and settled in comfortably, crossing his legs just like his father. His previously slicked-back hair had been washed into soft strands, yet he still resembled a composed little boss.

The shocking discovery of skeletal remains in the Sheng family’s Mid-Levels home had dominated daytime television interviews, with prime-time news anchors taking turns reporting on it. Colleagues during shift changes had clicked their tongues in amazement when discussing it, so Uncle Lin was naturally well-informed.

The villa had no previous owner, the fireplace contained no hidden compartments, and no renovation permits had been filed after construction was completed. Police initially suspected the body had been concealed during the mansion’s initial construction.

“It was right when the Mid-Levels Villa was completed, I remember…” Uncle Lin recalled, “Back then I heard from old neighbors that the Mid-Levels property was hiring security personnel. I’d done lion dancing in my youth, so I went to try my luck.”

“The construction crew worked daily with workers coming and going. When someone complained about nighttime construction noise, Old Mr. Sheng simply waved his hand and threw money at the problem—work continued overnight as usual.”

“But for some reason, the foreman later said Sheng Sheng himself became unwilling to continue night shifts, delaying progress by several months.”

Zhu Qing noted down “overnight construction” with her fountain pen: “Did you notice any young woman about five foot three, in her twenties, coming and going? Any conflicts, like debt collection or wage disputes?”

“How could that be? Old Mr. Sheng was famously generous. Last time I opened his car door, the tip was this thick.” Uncle Lin pinched two fingers together to demonstrate the tip’s thickness, then waved a hand firmly. “He’d never delay construction crew payments!”

“Young women…the construction site was mostly rough men. The Sheng family hadn’t moved in yet, so they wouldn’t have hired maids or gardeners so early. Besides, Madam, you might not know—the second wife was extremely jealous, terrified of young girls threatening her position!”

This had been confirmed by police with the old butler.

Among Sheng family staff, there were no servants matching the victim’s age, let alone any who had mysteriously disappeared.

“And—what is this, a movie? Even if rich people killed someone, they wouldn’t stash the body in their own fireplace!”

“What about outsiders?”

“Our property security was extremely strict—visitors needed signed approval.” Uncle Lin unconsciously touched the corner of his mouth, checking if he’d drooled in his sleep. “We used to have manual patrols and basic surveillance too. Even a fly couldn’t get in without proper identification.”

He pointed to the register in use: “The name logs are all here, but we’ll have to wait until the manager comes in at eight tomorrow to get the keys to the records room.”

Awakened from sleep and feeling somewhat guilty, Uncle Lin cooperated extra diligently with the police investigation, though his eyes kept drifting toward the young master of the Sheng family.

Sheng Fang spun the swivel chair, abruptly letting it snap back, turning until dizzy, then lowering his head to repeat the motion over and over.

“Young master,” Uncle Lin hesitated, glancing at the clock, “it’s already ten. Does Second Miss know you’re—”

Sheng Fang, fiddling with the chair’s knob, was interrupted, his chubby little face scrunching in displeasure—

Mind your own business!

Zhu Qing noticed that everyone familiar with the Sheng family seemed to revolve around Second Miss Sheng Peishan after Old Mr. Sheng’s passing.

But logically, Sheng Peirong was the one rumored to be more likely to take over the Sheng family’s entire business. Even if betting on favorites, there was no reason to exclusively back the second daughter.

“I heard the eldest daughter of the Sheng family didn’t even come to offer incense for Old Mr. Sheng?”

At this question, Uncle Lin had even more to say.

He lowered his voice: “Several years ago, Eldest Miss Sheng and her husband moved to Shek O.”

“Old Mr. Sheng refused to relinquish control, and Eldest Miss Sheng became a proud lady of leisure.”

“Father and daughter became bitter enemies long ago—they haven’t spoken in years!”

Seeing the policewoman lost in thought, Uncle Lin turned his attention back to Sheng Fang.

“Young master, you should go back. If you stay like this… I won’t know how to explain to Second Miss,” he said awkwardly.

“That’s enough for now.” Zhu Qing snapped her notebook shut with a crisp sound. “We’ll contact you if needed.”

Protecting every taxpayer was the police’s duty—they couldn’t let a three-and-a-half-year-old young master wander alone. His safety had to be ensured.

Zhu Qing leaned against the doorframe: “Let me take you home.”

The Madam acted like a shepherd, blocking the young master’s path to prevent further wandering.

The young master of the Sheng family, unwilling to be locked back in the nursery, trudged slowly past the fountain, kicking pebbles along the mountain path.

“Taking the long way on purpose?” Zhu Qing pointed in the direction they’d come from and hauled him back.

Sheng Fang’s short legs dangled in the air again.

She’d only walked this path once—how did she remember the way…?

The little young master puffed up in anger, ready to breathe fire at any moment.

He quickened his pace, his designer slippers slapping loudly against the ground, head drooping so low he nearly tripped over his own feet. With a dark scowl, as if challenging someone unseen, he stumbled and staggered toward home.

“Want me to ring the bell for you?”

The young master tossed his backpack into the bushes by the side wall and grabbed the drainpipe.

Zhu Qing cautioned: “Be careful.”

The young master’s forehead light shone blindingly bright as he clung to the pipe like a little koala hugging a tree. With a soft thud upon landing, his stubborn little voice rang out:

“Not your business.”

Sheng Fang slipped into the courtyard, his small frame gradually disappearing.

Judging by his familiarity with the routine, the night-owl child was a repeat offender. The rust stains repeatedly smeared on his sleeves had somehow gone unnoticed by the maids and bodyguards.

This young master of the Sheng family might truly have no one watching over him.

…

Early the next morning, Inspector Weng stood at the door of the Criminal Investigation Division office, rapping his knuckles against the door like a Death Warrant, demanding his subordinates submit their daily briefings.

Several officers turned away, exchanging exaggerated looks and shrugging at Sergeant Mo, mouthing “good luck” in silent sympathy.

Zhu Qing had already received the guest and construction team registration records from ten years ago, delivered early that morning by the property manager of the Mid-Levels villa. The stack of files towered on her desk as her slender fingers twirled a pen, her lowered eyes marking notes with precision.

Absentmindedly, her gaze caught on the tabloids scattered across a neighboring workstation.

Uncle Lai scoffed, “Millionaire’s fireplace skeleton with a butterfly hairclip? These shameless rags always twist police bulletins into sensational horror stories.”

The third group of relatives coming to identify the remains had arrived.

Sergeant Mo said, “Uncle Lai, show the rookie the ropes.”

Leaving the CID room, Uncle Lai gestured toward the autopsy lab while lighting a cigarette out of habit. “From disappearance till now, these families could’ve claimed death certificates long ago. But look—they still cling to hope…”

Accepting reality was one thing. Now that the case had progressed, none of the relatives wanted the body in the morgue to be their loved one.

The first mother-daughter pair already had eyes red from crying.

“Mom, don’t panic yet. Maybe it’s not A Ru?”

“How could it not be? The police said the victim had leg surgery. A Ru got impaled by rebar as a child…”

Sobs echoed around them.

Uncle Lai had seen many rookies—some vomiting bile at their first corpse, others submitting transfer requests after seeing skeletal remains, or tearing up when confronted with grieving families. Men and women alike were no exception.

Yet Zhu Qing remained eerily composed.

She followed procedure mechanically, arranging tests for the relatives.

The body had weathered to bones. Standard protocol prevented direct viewing.

The skeletal remains found in the Sheng family’s fireplace had been cross-referenced with missing persons’ medical records. Surgical history narrowed down potential matches.

Over a decade old, the hospital records lacked digital copies. The yellowed paperwork bore faded ink.

Before scheduling DNA tests, Zhu Qing reconfirmed surgical details through medical records.

The horrified mother suddenly gasped, her voice jumping an octave: “I remember now! A Ru’s surgery wasn’t on her left leg—it was the right!”

“Mom, are you sure?”

The woman wept with relief. “Right leg! It’s coming back to me—definitely the right! These bones aren’t your sister’s!”

Zhu Qing presented the paperwork. “Sign here and you’re free to go.”

“Madam, my sister A Ru ran away after arguing with Mom ten years ago. Mom cried so much her eyes swelled—that’s why she mixed up which leg…”

“A Ru never came home all these years. Could you please—”

The relative grabbed Zhu Qing’s arm desperately.

She withdrew her hand smoothly as Uncle Lai intervened.

“Go home and wait for updates.”

Leaning comfortably against a wall while his capable rookie handled things, Uncle Lai returned from the breakroom with water to find Zhu Qing already addressing the third family.

“When… when will we get the report?”

The silver-haired couple clearly lacked experience dealing with police. They hesitated before asking about the DNA results. Zhu Qing’s answer brought no relief—they exchanged anxious glances before looking down.

Finally, the elderly woman ventured nervously, as if hoping for something: “Officer… Fishmonger Fai at the market said… there was a hairclip near the body?”

The police had arranged for the body identification and issued a public notice in the newspaper, detailing the characteristics of the white bone and the personal effects found.

However, unscrupulous tabloids had distorted the facts for sensationalism, misleading the public.

“That was just a rumor.”

Zhu Qing handed the evidence registry to the elderly couple. “The only personal item found was this.”

“Officer, what does it say? We can’t read.”

“It’s a plain platinum ring.”

With a sharp *clack*, the old woman’s cane struck the floor tiles, producing a piercing sound.

Just as Zhu Qing reached out to steady her, she noticed the pupils of both elders suddenly constrict.

“On the ring… were there English letters engraved?”

Zhu Qing turned to look at Uncle Lai, whose expression had grown grave.

“Jia’er was so disobedient…” the old woman muttered blankly, her gaze vacant. “She never should have taken that job at the nightclub.”