The Hunt

Meng Chao had just parked the car when Xiao Ba approached, clutching his notebook.

"Captain Meng, sorry to call you back right after you went off duty, but it's a special situation—"

"Cut the formalities," Meng Chao said, widening his eyes to stifle a yawn. "What's going on?"

"A resident on the fourth floor reported a clogged toilet. When the plumber came, they pulled out all sorts of junk from the main pipe—mop heads, soap scraps, plastic bags, and—"

"Get to the point."

"And a lot of hair."

"Hair?" Meng Chao took a big bite of the pancake he'd bought on the way—his first meal of the day. "Isn't hair in pipes normal?"

Xiao Ba looked up from his notebook, his gaze a mix of sympathy and resignation. He waited until Meng Chao swallowed before hesitantly adding, "There was also scalp."

"Huh?"

"Some of the hair still had scalp attached."

"Scalp, huh?" Meng Chao nodded thoughtfully and took another bite. "Any leads?"

"Yeah. Since these old apartments share a single drainage pipe, we checked floor by floor. A resident on the sixth floor mentioned her husband hasn't come home for days. We did a thorough inspection and found stains resembling blood in the bathroom tile gaps."

"Is forensics here yet?"

"Trace and the medical examiner are already inside. The rest of the team went up too. They told me to wait here for you."

"How long have they been in?"

"About half an hour."

"Alright, let's head up."

Meng Chao had only taken two steps when he suddenly stopped and turned to size up the young man towering half a head over him.

He'd heard about the new recruit, but he'd been tied up with the West Suburb homicide case and only now got a proper look. The kid was overly polite, bowing and smiling at everyone, his eight front teeth perpetually on display—hence the nickname "Xiao Ba" (Little Eight) from the snarkier teammates.

Meng Chao stared at the gleaming teeth hovering above him in the night and sighed. Just as expected.

"Uh, what's your name again?"

"Tong Hao. You can call me Xiao Tong."

"How long have you been here?"

"Less than a week."

"Alright, once we're inside, listen more, talk less, and stay sharp."

"Captain Meng, don't worry, I'll do my best. Honestly, I didn't expect to encounter a major case so soon—"

Meng Chao halted abruptly and turned back to the teeth—and their owner.

"Tong Hao, I get your eagerness, but real detective work isn't like the movies. It's often tedious, drawn-out, and even frustrating. So ditch the fantasies and focus on following the clues. Cases are solved with brains, not bravado. Understood?"

"Understood."

"And tone down the smile. No detective grins like a doorman all day—even criminals would think you're unprofessional."

Tong Hao clamped his mouth shut, forcing a solemn expression.

Well, a few all-nighters on the job would set him straight.

With a sigh, Meng Chao shoved the half-eaten pancake into Tong Hao's hands and waved. "Let's go."When the two reached the sixth floor, the narrow, dim hallway was already packed with curious neighbors.

"Such a good person, gone just like that."

"Exactly. Just last week, Xiao Cao helped my mom carry coal briquettes."

"Officers, you must catch the culprit quickly. Otherwise, none of us will dare live in this building anymore."

Ignoring Tong Hao, who was surrounded by the crowd and at a loss, Meng Chao pushed through the throng and approached the forensic photographer from behind.

"How's it looking?"

"No good. Before we got here, the crowd had already rushed in. Footprints everywhere—the scene's contaminated. Not much valuable evidence to collect," said Ma Rui, the forensic technician, with two pronounced dark circles under his eyes. "But there aren't any obvious signs of struggle. My guess is either a surprise attack or someone the victim knew."

Meng Chao nodded and moved to the medical examiner.

"Xia, what about you?"

Xia Jie, the medical examiner in protective gear, shook her head, her voice muffled behind the mask.

"No body means no further conclusions. I can only speculate." She pointed at the dining table. "We found traces of spattered blood here. The victim likely suffered a heavy blow at this spot. The blood was wiped away, and there's no clear evidence of dragging."

She led Meng Chao to the bathroom, where another examiner was crouched on the grimy tiled floor collecting hair samples.

"We ran a luminol test here. The reaction showed diluted blood traces in both the sink and the squat toilet. The perpetrator probably cleaned up here, but—"

"But what?"

"You know luminol reacts to animal blood and urine too. Residual waste in the toilet might interfere with the results."

Xia Jie glanced at Meng Chao.

"We'll expedite the DNA comparison to confirm if the scalp in the drain matches the missing person. But I should warn you—without a body, our work is limited, and we don’t want to mislead you."

A stifled sob from the bedroom cut their conversation short.

Meng Chao turned toward the sound. Under the dim yellow light, he saw a figure quietly weeping.

Wu Ximei’s slender frame was bathed in the warm glow, her body wrapped in a smoke-pink padded jacket like a burnt-out ember—present but lifeless, as if the slightest disturbance might scatter her spirit. Whether from cold or prolonged crying, the tip of her nose and cheeks were faintly flushed. She responded to the female officer’s questions with weary shakes of her head, occasionally wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.

In contrast to her delicate, refined features, her hands were strikingly incongruous—rough, cracked, with dirty medical tape haphazardly wrapped around her knuckles.

As Meng Chao approached, Wu Ximei’s gaze flickered toward him with timid restraint, then quickly retreated like a startled cat, her eyes dropping to her shoes.

Meng Chao stood with his arms crossed, nodding for the female officer to continue.

"Was anything missing from the house?"

"A suitcase."

Her Mandarin carried an accent—clearly not a northern native.

"Was the suitcase special? Did it contain anything important?"

"No, just an old case full of worthless junk."

"Did the contents disappear too?""No, the stuff is still here." Wu Ximei's voice grew quieter as she timidly pointed to the foot of the bed, where several plastic bags of varying sizes lay scattered, containing men's and women's sandals. "That person dumped out the shoes inside and only took the suitcase."

"Broke in just to steal an old suitcase?"

The female officer shot Meng Chao a puzzled glance, and he scratched his head in equal confusion. Just then, Tong Hao finally broke free from the crowd and squeezed through excitedly, his small brown notebook flipping noisily.

"Captain Meng, major discovery—"

Noticing the expression on Meng Chao's face, he quickly regained his seriousness, lowering his voice by an octave.

"Captain Meng, Old Man Yu, the scrap collector on the first floor, said he saw someone carrying a suitcase into a van around 3 p.m."

"Call for the surveillance footage, then—"

Meng Chao turned alertly, noticing Wu Ximei had also stopped speaking at the same moment, eavesdropping on their conversation. He gave the female officer a meaningful look, and she immediately caught on, encouraging Wu Ximei with a reassuring gaze.

"Cao Xiaojun is missing. The sooner we find him, the higher his chances of survival. So don’t be afraid of saying something wrong—anything you remember could be important right now."

"I... I do remember something," Wu Ximei frowned. "About a month ago, Xiaojun got drunk once and told me—"

"Told you what?"

"But it was just drunken nonsense. Doesn’t count."

"Just tell us," the female officer softened her tone. "We’ll decide what’s relevant."

Wu Ximei fell silent for a long moment before looking up again, her dark eyes filled with terror.

"He said... if he died, it would definitely be his doing."

"His? Who?"