The elevator arrived.
It was easy to determine the room number where the six perpetrators had been staying. The apartment was rented, and more specific information still needed to be uncovered.
A police officer stepped forward to pry open the door, while several others rushed in with guns drawn. They quickly confirmed that the apartment was empty, with no dangerous items in sight.
Everyone holstered their weapons and began surveying the place.
At first glance, you’d never imagine this was the home of a group of deranged killers.
The living room was spacious, tastefully and comfortably furnished. Yes, that was the impression—elegant and cozy. Soft, warm tones dominated the space, with a fabric sofa, a tea table and tea set, and cups still holding lukewarm water. There was a television and a bookshelf filled with novels, miscellaneous notes, psychology books, and more.
You Mingxu even spotted a row of Yin Feng’s books, neither new nor overly worn. She pulled one down and flipped through it. Yin Feng walked over, took the book from her, and examined it. You Mingxu asked, “Were they studying you?”
Yin Feng tossed the book back onto the table and said, “Who knows? Maybe they were just reading. After all, my books are quite good.”
You Mingxu rolled her eyes at him.
On the wall hung a piece of calligraphy that read: “All good is dead; all evil prevails.”
The brushstrokes were powerful, neat, and bold. There was no signature.
You Mingxu and Yin Feng both studied the calligraphy for a moment, exchanged a glance, and remained silent.
This was likely the largest unit in the complex, spanning over 200 square meters. On one side of the living room were the kitchen, a shared bathroom, and a gym. You Mingxu entered the kitchen first and was surprised to find a pot of soup still simmering on the stove. Some vegetables had been washed in the sink. Opening the refrigerator, she found it stocked with food, fruits, and vegetables.
On the wall next to the fridge was a chart titled “Duty Roster.”
Below it were names or nicknames assigned to each day of the week.
Old Gu, Cao Tou, Big Mouth, Brother Wen…
The handwriting was somewhat messy, but it was clear the writer had tried to make it neat.
You Mingxu stared blankly at everything in the kitchen.
Yin Feng had quietly appeared beside her again.
You Mingxu murmured, “They were living a normal life here?” Who would have thought that in the “home” of a group of killers, they’d find such tidy, even warm, everyday details.
Yin Feng replied, “I didn’t expect them to have a life either.”
His words carried a deeper meaning. You Mingxu glanced at him, noticing his expression seemed even more detached than usual.
The gym contained a treadmill, several strength-training machines, and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. This aligned with You Mingxu’s expectations—hardened criminals never neglected continuous physical training. It was a reminder to the police: if they slacked off, the criminals would outwork them and easily overpower them.
The first bedroom had a cold, minimalist palette, furnished with a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. The bed was neatly made, and the wardrobe held a few men’s clothes and a pair of leather shoes—utterly ordinary.
On the desk, a sheet of glass pressed down on a collection of photographs.
All featured the same woman and a little girl. The woman appeared to be in her thirties, the girl around seven or eight years old. They seemed to be mother and daughter, smiling happily in several photos. Others were clearly cut from group pictures, their edges uneven, with fragments of someone else’s black clothing visible at the margins.Under the glass, there was a small empty space, with a faint mark left on the desktop. It was clear that the photo originally placed here had been taken away. The glass was also slightly askew—the person who took the photo had done so in a hurry.
You Mingxu understood at a glance: they had left in a rush earlier, and whoever lived in this room—likely one of the people they had just encountered—had only had time to grab one photo.
In one corner of the desk sat a small, very worn-out puppy plush toy. You Mingxu noticed that in one of the photos, the little girl was holding an identical toy.
"It seems he lost the most important thing," Yin Feng whispered in her ear. "He’s been living in nostalgia ever since."
"That’s no excuse for his wrongdoing," You Mingxu said flatly, turning to leave the room.
Yin Feng watched her retreating figure, smiled faintly, and followed.
As soon as she stepped into the second room, You Mingxu froze.
The walls were covered with photos.
Her photos.
Yin Feng glanced around, his expression instantly turning cold.
You Mingxu approached, staring at the array of photos, suppressing the chill in her heart. She didn’t even know when these photos had been taken. There she was, leaving her home; standing by the car with Yin Feng; a distant shot of her in the police station office, holding a cup of tea; eating at a small restaurant…
There were at least forty or fifty of them.
The two of them stood in silence for a while. You Mingxu turned her head away, but Yin Feng stepped in front of her. She looked up, and his hand was already on her neck, giving it a light squeeze.
You Mingxu: "What are you doing?"
A dark glint seemed to flicker in Yin Feng’s eyes. After a moment, he released her hand and said coldly, "He really knows how to stir things up, even in death, trying to disgust us."
The "he" naturally referred to Gu Tiancheng.
You Mingxu didn’t respond, turning her attention to the desk. A pile of medicine bottles lay scattered, some with their caps off, pills spilled across the surface—revealing how tormented and disoriented the person must have been during an episode.
On the desk was a folder. You Mingxu opened it and froze.
Inside was a pencil sketch. The artist clearly had some skill—the drawing was strikingly accurate, unmistakably depicting her. She was wearing the windproof jacket and pants she had worn in Tibet, with short boots, her long hair loose, and a backpack slung over her shoulder. Her expression was vividly rendered—cold eyes, a faint hint of a smile, and a trace of pride.
Beside her stood a man.
A man who felt both familiar and unfamiliar to You Mingxu.
In appearance and build, it was unmistakably Gu Tiancheng. But he was dressed in a suit, holding a briefcase. His expression was different too—he was smiling, looking cheerful, his gaze fixed on the woman beside him.
The two of them stood together.
You Mingxu tossed the folder back onto the desk, her face expressionless as she prepared to leave. Yin Feng wrapped an arm around her waist, leaned in, and planted a firm kiss on her cheek. You Mingxu shoved him away, only to meet his darkened eyes. He said nothing, and she had no desire to speak to him either. What kind of place was this for him to impulsively kiss her?
She turned and walked away.
Yin Feng remained where he was, touched his lips, then cast another cold glance at the sketch on the desk. It was evidence, after all—reason held back his intense urge to tear it to shreds. The soft sensation of kissing her cheek lingered in his mind, stirring his heart. He couldn’t help but smile, then glanced at the drawing again. What else could the artist gain besides this sketch? Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked out as well.The owner of the third room, however, was studious. Aside from the bed, the room contained only books. The desk was piled high with them, and so was the floor. Novels, biographies, popular science, mathematics, geography, magazines, military affairs... there were books on every subject. There were even several notebooks filled densely with excerpts.
Upon seeing this, Xu Mengshan exclaimed in surprise, "Could this be a top student?"
You Mingxu shared the sentiment, thinking that indeed, normal people are all alike. It's the abnormal ones who each have their own twisted ways of living.
Yin Feng, standing nearby, remarked, "On the contrary, this is the room of an academic underachiever. A top student wouldn't be like this."
You Mingxu and Xu Mengshan both glanced at him. There was no helping it—Yin Feng undoubtedly had more authority on this matter than they did.
But it was in the drawer of this pseudo-scholar that a stack of photos was discovered. Some of the photos were old and yellowed, while others were new. In each photo, there was a man, and on every man's head, a large red "X" had been drawn.
This was a crucial clue.
You Mingxu's expression shifted slightly. She called Xu Mengshan and the others over. After passing the photos around, no one could identify the men in them, though some found them vaguely familiar. In the end, they had no choice but to take all the photos back to the police station.
The search of the house was nearing its end.
Yet, no matter what, this place was different from what any of the police officers had imagined.
This was their first encounter with a serial killer organization. In their minds, the lair of such people should be dark, filthy, bloody, and reeking of depravity. Even if they had come across corpses or dismembered limbs, the officers wouldn't have been surprised.
Who would have thought that, aside from a few photos, books, and sketches revealing traces of obsession, the place appeared utterly normal? These people drank tea, cooked, made soup, took turns cleaning, and exercised. The rooms were clean and bright, their lives orderly and healthy. They kept their obsessions hidden in their rooms, facing them day after day, month after month.
As she left the house, You Mingxu stepped out of the entryway and suddenly turned back, her gaze falling on the wall directly opposite the living room.
A phrase leaped vividly into her line of sight, stark and black:
"All good is dead; all evil is practiced."
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