However, the murderer’s hair was dirty and disheveled, and his clothes were sloppy, not appearing like someone who would go outside.
Peering around Fang Zhenyue’s broad arms and solid body, she saw no sign of the murderer.
“Let’s just follow for now; it might not be the murderer. Just be cautious and follow seriously, no need to be too nervous,” Fang Zhenyue soothed.
Generally, serial killers don’t have accomplices, but they still hadn’t grasped any clues, and if the murderer’s accomplice was his own mother or grandmother, that would be complicated.
But regardless, they would pursue any lead with all their might.
The old grandma finally finished drinking her water, rubbed her back, and glanced around casually before slowly grabbing the handle of her cart and continuing to push it forward like a snail.
“Let’s wait a moment and let Jiaming follow her for a bit; we’ll follow Jiaming,” Fang Zhenyue signaled to the street urchin Ah Ming on the other side of the road, and Liu Jiaming immediately started walking forward in a wobbly manner—his disheveled appearance really did resemble a little scoundrel.
Turning another corner, Fang Zhenyue received safety check BB-calls from Gary, Sanfu, and Team A agents. He immediately found a phone and called back, instructing Gary and Sanfu to return and provide support.
Ten minutes later, Gary and Sanfu caught up from behind, and Fang Zhenyue arranged for the two to split up and follow the old grandma from a moderate distance.
Gary picked up a newspaper by the roadside, folded it to the size of his palm, and fanned himself while pretending to be a drunkard.
After Liu Jiaming parted ways with the old grandmother at a certain alley, Gary followed at a discreet distance.
When the old grandmother stopped to sell oranges, Gary passed her, and soon after, Sanfu, who seemed to be rushing home, took over following her from Gary.
After turning onto Yalan Street, Fang Zhenyue, who had changed his clothes, appeared from an alley and trailed behind the old grandmother at a similar distance.
Thus, after nearly forty minutes of intricate tailing, Fang Zhenyue had no choice but to call in the last group of three agents from Team A for real-time tracking, when You Zhaohua suddenly sent him a BB-call:
“6 pieces—new—permission granted by Chen.”
Fang Zhenyue’s back stiffened, his eyebrows slanted sharply, and his entire demeanor exuded the fierce sharpness of a sword drawn from its sheath.
His lips pressed into a straight line, and his facial features seemed even more chiseled.
He resisted the urge to immediately rush and seize the old lady to send her pushcart and oranges for forensic analysis, and continued to arrange for surveillance.
If they brought her in, to find her home and catch a murderer who might be very closely related to her, or even living with her, they’d have to wait for her confession, or ask for help from Sham Shui Po and other police stations.
That would mean a delay until tomorrow or later.
If the murderer had a victim in his hands, even a few minutes’ delay could lead to another life lost; they had to race against time, faster than ever.
Moreover, delay could change things; if the old grandmother was taken away and didn’t return overnight, it might alert the murderer, potentially leading him to immediately kill any existing victims and flee overnight.
He had to continue following, with more calm, more precision, and more patience…
As the people burning paper offerings on the streets dwindled—when it was time for ghosts to walk and the living to make way—the old lady finally paused at the intersection of Zhengxiang Street and Daquan Street, hesitated for a long while, and then turned into Datong Estate.
In this rundown edge of the 1990s, old houses still stood creaking, sheltering the poorest inhabitants from rain leaks and wind leaks.
In this area, not a single mineral water bottle was ownerless, not a piece of cardboard was discarded on the street. Everyone tried every possible way to scrape together even a tiny bit of wealth—this was the current state of Datong Estate, densely populated with the poor, with only a dim streetlight occasionally shining.
The old lady skillfully navigated the dark, moss-covered muddy path, twisting and turning into a building that resembled a haunted house, five stories tall.
When Fang Zhenyue reached the muddy path, he crouched down to collect some moss, tucked it into his pocket, and then carefully followed her in.
Liu Jiaming followed behind Sir Fang, his heart pounding like a drum. It was unclear whether it was fear or something else, perhaps because it was the Ghost Festival that added a sense of fear, or perhaps it was the pressure and anxiety brought on by the dismemberment case, which had everyone on edge fearing another crime by the murderer, desperately wanting to catch him before he could strike again. So finally being here brought a mix of excitement, anticipation, and nervousness.
Yi Jiayi closely followed Gary, while the naive Sister Mang walked to the entrance of the stairwell, still intending to follow inside but was pulled back by Sanfu from behind.
Sanfu looked back at Tony from Team A, wanting to go in and catch the murderer himself, but he was reluctant to leave the young rookie with another team. After hesitating for a while, he gave up on the idea of gaining merit, and pulling Yi Jiayi along with another agent, they went around to the side of the building to a pile of wood, hiding behind it to keep an eye on the windows on this side, guarding against the murderer escaping through them.
After the last team of Team A agents arrived, they also tacitly moved to another side to prevent the murderer from escaping through the windows there.
The police had laid a trap, where could the evil spirit escape?
In a dilapidated house on the ground floor, Fang Zhenyue pinned down Zhang Dafu, who was watching a late-night show.
Seeing Fang Zhenyue charging over fiercely, Zhang Dafu was startled, then tried to jump through the window, but it was already too late.
When he was pressed down on the sofa, he was not only unafraid but also chuckled.
Following his gaze, Fang Zhenyue saw in the next room a young girl, naked and tortured beyond recognition, no longer the vibrant flower she once was.
A fire blazed in Fang Zhenyue’s chest, his right fist raised, thinking of police discipline, he finally gritted his teeth and restrained himself, handcuffing Zhang Dafu while shouting behind him:
“Gary!”
Gary hurried into the narrow room filled with waste paper and old boxes, took off his large T-shirt to cover the girl, and shirtless, asked Liu Jiaming for his shirt to wrap around the girl as a skirt.
Meanwhile, Liu Jiaming handcuffed an old woman selling oranges, leaving her cart for the forensic colleagues who would later inspect the scene.
Tony ran out to knock on the doors of three neighbors before finding a landline to call the police and an ambulance.
The moment they knew the murderer was captured, Sanfu could no longer hold back Yi Jiayi.
The young female officer ran faster than a cat, darting out from behind the woodpile and straight towards the building entrance.
As the clouds drifted away, the bright moon shone, illuminating the face of the murderer.
That dirty, pockmarked face, the tufts of hair that seemed long untrimmed and unwashed, and the round-neck T-shirt he wore when he murdered the large-framed woman—it was him!
They had caught him!
With a stern face, Yi Jiayi stood under the now dark streetlight, staring at the murderer just coming out of the building.
Zhang Dafu also saw Yi Jiayi at a glance and immediately smiled lewdly, saying, “The policewoman is really beautiful, even more so than them.”
Everyone immediately understood whom his ‘them’ referred to, this comparison of Yi Jiayi to the murdered women infuriated all the officers.
Before Yi Jiayi could feel humiliated, and before Zhang Dafu could finish the sentence “I’ll push you into the trash too, and you’ll beg me—,” Fang Zhenyue had already grabbed Zhang Dafu and fiercely smashed him against the mottled earthen wall of the first-floor balcony.
The old earthen wall could not withstand the impact, and instantly, dirt and brick fragments fell with a crash. Zhang Dafu’s right forehead, face, and shoulder took a harsh hit, causing him to cry out in pain, shouting “The police are beating people—”.
Liu Jiaming reacted the fastest, quickly grabbing a plastic bag from behind the balcony iron railing and stuffing it into Zhang Dafu’s mouth.
“This road is all mossy, really slippery. The suspect took a nasty fall, look how his face got smashed,” Sanfu said as he walked over from the side, promptly assigning a cause to the injuries on Zhang Dafu’s face.
The others all tacitly agreed: “That’s right, I just slipped too!”
“Sir Fang, leave it to me,” Tony, who had returned from making a call, nodded to Fang Zhenyue, took over Zhang Dafu, made sure his wrists were securely handcuffed, then firmly held his arm and escorted him out.
Yi Jiayi watched as Zhang Dafu was led away, taking small steps to get closer to Fang Zhenyue, looking up at him with some worry.
It was she who had been sexually harassed and threatened by the assailant, yet now she was worried that he was too angry.
Fang Zhenyue took a deep breath, awkwardly turned his head away to look at the building where the assailant lived, its upper floors dark and overrun with vegetation, showing that many units were vacant.
His emotions slowly subsided, and he turned his gaze back, ordering two agents from Team A to secure the crime scene, waiting for the forensic science and medical examiner colleagues to inspect.
After arranging everything, he reached out toward the young policewoman’s shoulder, then, remembering that the Ghost Festival night had not yet ended, changed to patting her arm gently, nudging her forward, “Let’s go, wait for the police on the main road.”
Yi Jiayi heard his voice low but steady, finally reassured, and softly said: “I’m not angry, Brother Yue, he’s just a lunatic.”
Fang Zhenyue was amused by her, and looking down at her in the night, he met her comforting, round eyes that shone like black grapes under the cold moonlight, clearer, and more distinct in black and white.
She looked like a soft, warm little animal, bouncing along behind you, seemingly begging for your caress and embrace, but actually releasing forces of happiness and comforting warmth.
“Alright, then I’m not angry either,” he assured her like a promise, even sincerely flashing a big smile.
The two of them, watching each other’s expressions, could not help but laugh for a while, and then, simultaneously, they both exhaled a long breath. Relaxed, they walked side by side for a while, then left the dim old house area and saw the sporadic neon lights, the bright street lamps, and the headlights of a police car approaching them.
Yi Jiayi stood in the bright area, looking back in the direction where her shadow stretched.
On the night of the Ghost Festival when the gates of hell open, they had captured the criminal, who would surely be sent to face the punishment he deserved, with the law’s guillotine chopping off his sins.
Could those wronged souls, in the final moments when the gates of hell are wide open, find their grievances redressed, their resentments dissolved, and pass through that door in peace?