In He Mei’s account, Gu Qiang had been a refined, desirable man with excellent taste. He was older, but kept himself in good physical shape, unlike the boyfriend she was dating at the time. Gu Qiang could give her almost everything she wanted. She did not consider herself greedy. As long as he kept providing opportunities and resources, she was willing to remain with him.
Chen Zheng interrupted. “You had a boyfriend then?”
He Mei said, “A university classmate. There was nothing wrong with him, but what kind of future could two poor students have?”
Her boyfriend had refused to break up. Gu Qiang then destroyed his prospects in the legal profession, and he eventually left in humiliation. He Mei sounded somewhat rueful as she recalled it, but quickly shook her head, believing she had done nothing wrong.
Gu Qiang was murdered when Yongshen was at the height of its rise. Everyone in the legal profession across Han Province knew his name. By then He Mei was devoting most of her energy to her career and had become a qualified lawyer in her own right. Gu Qiang trusted her with his work, and she spent less and less time with him personally.
Gu Qiang had found a new lover, but He Mei was not jealous. She had already obtained what she wanted.
Even so, given the choice, she would have preferred that Gu Qiang survive. She did have feelings for him. On a practical level, if he had lived, she might eventually have become a partner herself, or acquired enough connections to open her own firm.
“Did you have much contact with Liao Huaimeng?” Chen Zheng asked.
At the name, He Mei looked sad. She kept her head lowered for a long time before answering. “I wronged Sister Liao. She was a good person.”
Liao Huaimeng came alive in He Mei’s recollections, more vividly than in the police file and even more than when Chen Zheng had met the woman himself. She lacked a high level of formal education but was a gifted storyteller. Just because Gu Qiang earned a great deal of money did not mean she was content to spend it. She wrote online fiction and could make several thousand yuan a month, more than He Mei had earned as a rookie lawyer.
Gu Qiang’s team had many younger staff members. Liao Huaimeng understood how difficult it was for them to establish themselves. Sometimes she invited them over for meals and told them that success was not everything, that a person only needed to be able to answer to themselves.
After becoming Gu Qiang’s mistress, He Mei no longer dared to see Liao Huaimeng. Liao seemed aware of their relationship but endured it quietly for the sake of keeping the family together. To He Mei, romance was only a stepping stone for her career. As time passed, Gu Qiang became increasingly brazen and made no attempt to hide his contempt for Liao Huaimeng. Even He Mei sometimes found his behavior hard to watch. But she knew who had made her success possible, so she kept silent.
Liao Huaimeng’s murder of Gu Qiang struck He Mei like a heavy blow. Her backer was gone, and because she had been one of his mistresses, she was investigated and nearly lost her job. At the time, she hated Liao Huaimeng fiercely. All her old guilt and gratitude vanished. She hoped Liao would be sentenced to death.
But once the case was concluded, He Mei’s intimate knowledge of most of Gu Qiang’s clients made her the most trusted person left in his practice. Instead of being demoted, she rose at Yongshen and gained her own team. As time passed, she began to feel guilty toward Liao Huaimeng again. As a woman herself, she could understand Liao’s pain.
“From a lawyer’s perspective, was there anything questionable about Gu Qiang’s case?” Chen Zheng asked.
He Mei froze. “Officer Chen, I’m not a criminal-defense lawyer.”
“But you knew both Gu Qiang and Liao Huaimeng. The foundations of law are the same.”
He Mei lowered her head again. “All right. Whether Sister Liao got the death penalty, a suspended death sentence, or life imprisonment depended a great deal on her lawyer. With a good criminal-defense attorney, she might at least have secured a suspended death sentence. Maybe her children wanted her dead. She destroyed the family’s source of wealth. It’s natural for them to hate her. In their eyes, she was an incapable mother, while Gu Qiang was a rich and rather handsome father. Luckily the legal-aid attorney was very diligent and secured life imprisonment. Honestly, when I first heard it was a legal-aid attorney, I thought Sister Liao was finished.”
“Is it possible Liao Huaimeng was manipulated?”
He Mei raised her brows. “Officer Chen, I wouldn’t dare say something like that casually.”
“But what do you think, based on what you knew of her?”
He Mei was silent for a long time. “If Gu Qiang had only had me, I think she would have gone on tolerating it. But Gu Qiang later… really did go too far. Still, Sister Liao had such a submissive nature. I’ve wondered whether some idea or influence pushed her. Left to herself, she might never have thought of killing Gu Qiang. Gu Qiang once said she had psychological problems. Perhaps she saw a therapist, and misunderstood something the therapist said as encouragement to kill him? I don’t know. We legal professionals rely on evidence. I have none.”
“I’ve heard from Si Wei’s group that you looked beautiful at your wedding and seemed very happy with your husband,” Chen Zheng said. “Does he know about you and Gu Qiang?”
“Yes,” He Mei replied calmly. “He’s legal counsel for the company I serve. More than that, the company belongs to his family. Half of our relationship is about mutual interests. Each of us gets what we need. Officer Chen, I’ve already told you I’m rational and practical. I don’t believe in love for its own sake.”
“I’m sorry for asking so many questions about your private life.”
“Not at all.” Thinking Chen Zheng was about to leave, He Mei visibly relaxed. “I genuinely don’t know why Dong Jing and Zhu Xiaodi disappeared or whether they’re involved in that celebrity’s case. If I hear anything about where they are, I’ll contact you immediately.”
“Thank you.” Chen Zheng added, “Do you have any old photographs or other records from their internship? I’d like to see them.”
“I do, but you’ll have to wait a little. They weren’t terribly important, so I’ll have to look for them.”
Half an hour later, Chen Zheng found a group photograph amid a stack of files. He Mei stood in the middle, surrounded by the interns. She looked younger and less polished than she did now. Dong Jing stood behind Si Wei, secretly making rabbit ears over her head. Du Ying’s straight bangs almost covered her eyes as she linked her arm through He Mei’s. Li Ren wore the plainest, most outdated clothes. Zhang Pin grinned at the camera. Zhu Xiaodi was dressed entirely in designer labels.
Suddenly, Chen Zheng’s gaze landed on the woman at the right edge of the photograph. That was Du Ying. His eyes darted back. Then who was the woman holding He Mei’s arm?
Looking closely, he realized that the woman beside He Mei was not Du Ying at all. They had the same hairstyle, but the one by He Mei was smiling, the corners of her mouth turned upward, while Du Ying wore the same cool, expressionless look she had today.
“Who’s this?” Chen Zheng pointed to the woman who resembled Du Ying.
He Mei looked, and her brow furrowed involuntarily. “She…”
“Was she also an intern, in the same intake as Dong Jing and Si Wei? Why didn’t she go with them to Weimo Mountain Resort?”
She had not only failed to go to Weimo Mountain Resort: none of the four had even mentioned her. Without this photograph, Chen Zheng would never have known there had been more than six interns.
“She… was an intern too. Her name was Zhu Yi.” There was a strange, almost unreadable sadness in He Mei’s voice, different from how she had spoken about Gu Qiang. “Actually, she was the most talented of that year’s interns. Du Ying even copied her hairstyle.”
Chen Zheng pressed her. “Does she still work at Yongshen? Did she attend your wedding?”
He Mei shook her head. “She was the first to give up being a lawyer.”
“Give it up? When?”
He Mei searched through the records, then passed Chen Zheng Zhu Yi’s old résumé. “Look. She was an outstanding student at Han Province University of Political Science and Law and won scholarships every year. She had plenty of opportunities to join better law firms. But she was ruled by her emotions, and her hometown was close to Junan City, so she came to us instead.”
“What happened afterward?”
He Mei recalled that Zhu Yi, Du Ying, and Dong Jing had been the first of the interns to arrive. Zhu Yi and Dong Jing were both outgoing, while Du Ying was quieter. Dong Jing’s family was the wealthiest. The two young women came from ordinary backgrounds, and he frequently treated them to meals, making them feel rather embarrassed. Du Ying said nothing, but Zhu Yi gave Dong Jing a lecture, telling him that was not the right way to take care of girls.
Yongshen had expanded rapidly during Gu Qiang’s heyday, and many interns joined. Seven had been assigned to He Mei alone. In reality, the partners barely cared about interns. They valued experienced lawyers whom the firm had recruited at considerable expense. The interns were given nothing but menial tasks. He Mei comforted them, saying everyone had to start at the bottom, but she knew that if things continued this way, they would never gain real experience.
Wanting to find them opportunities, He Mei sounded Gu Qiang out. He made fun of her, saying he had not realized she cared so much about her interns. She replied that she was superstitious. Having done bad things, she had to do something good to make up for them, or she would go to hell after she died.
Gu Qiang dismissed the remark. Not long afterward, however, he suggested a public-interest project the firm had taken on. Lawyers would go into disadvantaged rural villages to teach basic law and provide legal aid. If He Mei thought it suitable, she could send her interns.
He Mei had experience and knew such assignments were exhausting and thankless. But at this stage, it seemed the only work available that might give the interns a chance to practice. After considering it carefully, she spoke to each of them. Only Li Ren refused to go.
She understood why. Li Ren’s family was very poor. He studied law because he wanted to become someone like Gu Qiang, make a great deal of money, and climb the social ladder. Yet on the day of departure, Li Ren turned up after all. Dong Jing looped an arm around his shoulders and laughed. “That’s more like it! We’re all going. What kind of brother would you be if you stayed behind?”
The first place He Mei took them was Yuanshu Township, a remote rural community. The villagers were simple and had dug mountain produce from the hills for generations. In recent years, the township had begun promoting cultivation, and many young people who had left for work were coming home. But development took time. To He Mei and the interns, the place seemed desperately poor. The villagers were welcoming, considering them educated people, inviting them into their homes and asking their children to learn from them.
They had traveled so far not merely to socialize, however. Si Wei was enthusiastic and promptly explained the importance of the law to the villagers, asking which families needed legal assistance. The villagers exchanged looks. Their attitudes toward the visitors changed.
He Mei could not bear staying in such a place. After telling them which villages to visit next, she left first. Though absent, she could read the interns’ daily reports in their group chat when she had time. Si Wei was not popular in Yuanshu Township. The villagers felt she had come to stir up trouble. Everyone in the village was getting along perfectly well, they said. Why would anyone need legal aid?
Before long, the interns learned that the township’s gender hierarchy was severe. Some wives even appeared to have been bought from elsewhere, but the women refused to speak. Dong Jing personally witnessed a daughter-in-law kneeling to greet her parents-in-law in the morning before taking on all the household chores. He and Si Wei wanted to help the unfortunate woman, but she rejected their efforts, insisting these were simply her duties.
The interns accomplished little in Yuanshu Township and soon traveled to other villages. Customs were similar, and the isolation and poverty had preserved many oppressive feudal traditions. Domestic violence was commonplace. The interns could do nothing but watch. Fortunately, one relatively enlightened village head invited them to mediate several couples’ divorce disputes.
A month later, the interns returned to the firm, each with different lessons learned. But to He Mei’s astonishment, Zhu Yi did not come back. She asked the others what had happened. Du Ying explained that Zhu Yi had fallen in love with a villager surnamed Yi from Yuanshu Township and wanted to stay there.
He Mei was not the only one shocked. Chen Zheng found it incredible as well. “How… how did they become involved?”
He Mei had asked precisely that question. The interns were evasive, but the gist was that while going door to door teaching people about the law, Zhu Yi met Yi Lei. He was in his thirties and still unmarried, almost uniquely so in the countryside. An honest, unassuming man, he stayed home caring for his mother and liked reading, though he had only a primary-school education. Perhaps Zhu Yi pitied him and admired his willingness to learn. She spent more time with him than with other villagers, gradually fell in love, and planned to stay and help revitalize Yuanshu Township.
He Mei felt as though lightning had struck her. She immediately tried contacting Zhu Yi, but her phone was switched off. She was too busy to travel to Yuanshu Township herself. When she finally managed to go, Zhu Yi was standing beside Yi Lei, a man He Mei would never have considered worthy of her attention, smiling with happiness. Zhu Yi told He Mei she had decided to marry into the Yi family and spend her life serving Yi Lei and his mother.
“Officer Chen, I’m not exaggerating. I nearly threw up when I heard that,” He Mei sighed. “Zhu Yi and I both studied for years to earn our way out of poverty. I’d rather she’d done what I did than hear her say she wanted to ‘serve’ somebody. Why should she? I was so disappointed in her.”
Zhu Yi’s decision fell like a stone into water. The other interns did not seem to react much outwardly, but He Mei knew they were all thinking. She began to regret sending them into the countryside. They had seen so many things they were powerless to change. They had imagined being lawyers meant arguing brilliantly in court. In reality, ordinary legal professionals did not earn Gu Qiang’s income, and much of their work involved endless petty, exhausting matters. The profession lost its glamour in their eyes. Once they returned, the firm’s trivial assignments continued day after day, and she was unable to find them better opportunities.
Dong Jing was the first to decide to change professions. His family’s wealth gave him a safety net. Si Wei, Li Ren, and Zhang Pin followed. Zhu Xiaodi and Du Ying were the last. As for Zhu Yi, she never returned to the firm. He Mei heard she married Yi Lei that same year.
Over the years, the interns occasionally kept in touch through their group chat, but Zhu Yi never appeared again. At some point, she silently left the group altogether. He Mei suspected she might have regretted the path she had chosen.
Back in his car, Chen Zheng kept thinking about the vanished intern, Zhu Yi. It was normal for members of a group to drift apart, but why had the others never mentioned her at all? He laboriously found Yuanshu Township on a map and decided he needed to visit. Just then, Ming Han called. “Bro, where are you? Shu Jun’s back in the country. He’s kicking up a tremendous fuss, demanding revenge for Huo Yewei.”
“Kicking up a fuss?” Shu Jun’s reaction genuinely surprised Chen Zheng.
The police had previously tried to contact Shu Jun, but his staff had refused to help, saying he was vacationing overseas. It was easy to assume those instructions came from Shu Jun himself. Huo Yewei’s assistant, Xiao Xiang, had also described Shu Jun as little more than Huo’s companion in drinking and pleasure, and said Huo had been displeased with Shu Jun’s pursuit of Lin Dong. How had Shu Jun gone from that to demanding revenge for Huo Yewei in half a day?
Ming Han was at Junan Lake and had also only just heard the news. He was preparing to go to the municipal bureau to see what was happening. “I’m not sure what kind of performance he’s putting on. But judging by the timing, he flew back to Luocheng and immediately drove to Junan City. He must have set off to return to China as soon as he heard Huo Yewei had been murdered.”
Chen Zheng did not know Shu Jun well enough to make sense of it. “All right. Observe how he reacts. If necessary, take him to Huo Yewei’s villa. And remember to steer the conversation toward his relationship with Lin Dong.”
Ming Han agreed. “Bro, aren’t you coming back?”
Chen Zheng checked the time. “I’ve found something new here.” He told Ming Han what he had learned from He Mei, placing special emphasis on the “invisible” intern Zhu Yi. “I’m going to Yuanshu Township now. Don’t tell Si Wei’s group I’ve learned about Zhu Yi yet.”
“Got it!”
When Ming Han arrived at the Junan Municipal Bureau, he saw a flashy Mercedes-Benz G-Class with two men who looked like bodyguards standing in front of and behind it. The sight was almost comical. Overwrought sobbing echoed through the criminal-investigation building. Following the sound, Ming Han found Shu Jun, hair disheveled, crying his eyes out.
Ming Han had seen this minor celebrity online. The most notable thing about him was his rich-family background. Every public appearance featured luxury brands from head to toe, wildly disproportionate to his actual fame. He never pretended otherwise: he was wealthy and had entered show business for fun. But he was so obscure that even his most outrageous behavior seldom caused much of a stir. Ming Han had not expected this pampered playboy to perform just as extravagantly at a police station as in the entertainment industry.
“I’m an officer investigating Huo Yewei’s murder,” Ming Han said as he approached Shu Jun, looking down at him. “Come along. We’re going to ask you some questions.”
Several detectives had already tried to take Shu Jun’s statement, but he refused to speak to them. He sat arrogantly in the reception room and demanded that the leadership explain the situation personally. Even if that were appropriate, he would not get his wish anytime soon. Li Zhi was the senior official responsible for the case and Li Shu led its practical investigation; neither was currently in the building.
Shu Jun raised his head and silently sized Ming Han up. After a moment, he waved dismissively. “Who are you? What gives you the right to talk to me?”
Ming Han scoffed. Shu Jun was plainly offended. He slapped the table and stood up, confident in his amateur boxing skills and hoping to intimidate Ming Han. But Ming Han had no intention of letting him throw his weight around at the municipal bureau. The moment Shu Jun threw a punch, Ming Han blocked it and stripped the force from the blow. Before Shu Jun could understand what had happened, Ming Han had pinned his arms and forced him face down onto the table.
“I advise you to behave yourself,” Ming Han said. “I don’t care what car you drive or how big your family’s business is. No one gets to run wild on my turf.”
“You!” Shu Jun struggled and tried to swear, but Ming Han’s grip was like iron pincers. He could not move. Several minutes later, he finally accepted the situation and softened his tone. “Then let me go. I’ve already come here, haven’t I? Of course I’ll cooperate!”
Ming Han released him. Shu Jun straightened with a grimace, his shoulders and back aching as if they had split apart. He glared at Ming Han but was more cautious now. After scrutinizing Ming Han’s face, he apparently decided such a young man could not be anyone important and regained his arrogance. “Who are you? Do you know who I am?”
Ming Han slapped his credentials on the table. “Ming Han, Mobile Unit. Is that enough to qualify me to question you?”
Shu Jun did not know what the Mobile Unit was, but the words Han Provincial Public Security Department immediately caught his eye. His expression changed. “Y-you’re from the provincial department?”
Ming Han grew stern. “The Huo Yewei case is being investigated jointly by local police and the province. Shu Jun, we contacted you yesterday, but you didn’t seem willing to cooperate. Why have you suddenly come back today?”
“I wasn’t unwilling!” Shu Jun cried. “I was overseas. There’s a time difference! I didn’t know anything had happened to Old Huo. Didn’t I come back the moment I heard? I’m more anxious than you police!”
Ming Han narrowed his eyes. “Really? Why? What’s your relationship with Huo Yewei?”
In the interview room, recording equipment was switched on. Shu Jun wiped his red, swollen eyes. “Huo Yewei has been my best buddy since childhood. We… had a bit of friction recently, but I never dreamed anything would happen to him!”
According to Shu Jun, the Shu and Huo families had conducted plenty of business together for years. He and Huo Yewei came from equally privileged backgrounds and had played together since they were very young. Outsiders considered them both spoiled rich sons, but Shu Jun knew he was the only one who truly lived that life. Huo Yewei had it much harder. Shu Jun’s father controlled the Shu family, whereas Huo Yewei’s father was a spineless weakling, and the entire Huo family had to bow to Huo Xiling’s wishes.
That was why Huo Yewei had matured early, hoping to leave his family and make something of himself. But entering entertainment had not given him independence. Instead, it tied him more tightly to Weihai Technology. Huo Xiling exploited his popularity in every possible way, wearing it away until, in the public eye, he seemed no more than a mascot the company had put forward.
Talent? No one acknowledged Huo Yewei’s talent.
The more Shu Jun spoke, the angrier he became. In his eyes, Huo Yewei was genuinely gifted. But Huo Xiling relentlessly exploited him to maximize corporate profits. Whether people loved or hated Huo Yewei, if the attention boosted Weihai Technology’s profile, she forced him to court it. People had even begun claiming that some of his early hits, songs heard everywhere, were ghostwritten for him. Huo Yewei had been deeply distressed by those rumors.
Shu Jun had tried countless ways to comfort him, but nothing worked. Huo Yewei became obsessed with recapturing his former glory, desperately trying to write another smash hit and repeatedly failing.
Ming Han grew increasingly puzzled as he listened. Were Shu Jun and Huo Yewei truly so close? Then why had Huo Yewei left Shu Jun’s banquet early on the seventeenth? Why did Xiao Xiang have so many complaints about Shu Jun?
Shu Jun claimed he had entered show business solely to keep Huo Yewei company. He did not need to become famous. It was enough if Huo Yewei did not feel alone. If necessary, he could even serve as a foil, making Huo Yewei look better by comparison.
“Hold on,” Ming Han interrupted. “Didn’t you enter entertainment to fool around with young actors and actresses?”
Shu Jun froze in astonishment. A moment later he demanded excitedly, “Who told you that?”
Ming Han watched him. “What? Hit the mark? Can’t keep acting anymore?”
The muscles in Shu Jun’s face twitched rapidly. “Did Old Huo tell you that? No, one of his assistants? It’s not true! He misunderstood me!”