Reaching the eighth floor, Lu Lie casually gestured toward the door of unit 802, lifting his chin as a signal for Zhou Chaochao to knock.
She understood immediately, stepped forward, and rapped on the door a few times. When no one answered, she knocked harder and pressed her ear to the surface.
From within came the soft shuffle of slippers, gradually drawing nearer.
The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with sallow skin and disheveled hair. Her expression was filled with suspicion as she rasped, "Who are you looking for?"
Zhou Chaochao displayed her police badge and stated their purpose. "We're with the police. We're here to speak with Bai Wenwen."
The woman eyed them with increasing distrust and was about to slam the door shut when Lu Lie, standing behind Zhou Chaochao, reached out swiftly and blocked it. With a light push, he forced the door open.
The woman's temper flared as she pointed at Zhou Chaochao and began to hurl insults. Lu's expression grew colder; he pulled Zhou behind him and faced the woman directly, his gaze sharp and commanding. His tone was equally unyielding. "Where's Bai Wenwen?"
His presence was oppressive. The woman's bluster quickly faded, and her voice softened. "What do you want with my daughter?"
"Your son-in-law is dead. Who else would we be looking for?"
The woman's face contorted in disbelief. "Dead? Who are you people? Don't talk nonsense!"
Lu frowned. "You didn't know?"
She raised her voice, shrill and incredulous. "Know what?"
He had no patience for further argument. He raised his voice again. "Where is Bai Wenwen?"
While he spoke, Zhou Chaochao glanced around the apartment. It was dim and cramped, cluttered with old belongings. Being on the top floor, the walls were stained yellow, and watermarks marred the ceiling from previous rains. From the decor, it was clear her family was not well off.
She looked down at the entrance area where a pair of pristine high heels sat beside the shoe rack—likely Bai Wenwen's. Crouching down for a closer look, she noted they were Louboutins with signature red soles—undoubtedly expensive.
She had just risen when a woman stepped out from the bedroom.
Her features were refined, long hair draped over her shoulders, her figure graceful, and her makeup impeccable. A true beauty—it was no wonder Chen Shengqiang had been so smitten.
Bai Wenwen was dressed as if to go out. Lu Lie scrutinized her and spoke calmly. "We contacted you yesterday. You were supposed to come in for a statement. Why didn't you show up?"
Caught off guard, Bai Wenwen replied, "I was just about to head out."
Lu's brows knitted slightly as he looked her over.
Her mother was still frozen in shock, only managing to stammer, "Xiao Wen... Wenhui... is it true?"
Bai Wenwen pulled her aside and whispered, "Mom, I'll explain everything later."
Then she turned back to Lu and Zhou. "Let's talk somewhere else."
They found a window-side seat in a café near the complex. Lu and Zhou sat side by side across from Bai Wenwen, who lowered her gaze, eyes reddened, tears glistening.
Lu watched her impassively. He tossed some napkins on the table, his tone impatient. "Here. Wipe your face."
She picked one up, dabbed her eyes and nose, then placed the crumpled tissue aside.
Lu didn't indulge her emotions. He got straight to the point. "How long were you married to He Wenhui?"
"Three or four years," she said hoarsely.
"How was the relationship?"
"We loved each other very much."
Zhou Chaochao found this hard to reconcile with the woman's immaculate makeup from earlier. A woman mourning the death of a beloved husband wouldn't be so exquisitely made up. She seemed more dressed for a date than a police statement.
Lu stared at her. "Before He Wenhui died, did you two argue?"
She nodded, still in tears. "Yes. He hit me. It was the first time... I was so angry, I came home to my mother's."
Lu leaned forward. "Then why did your neighbor and He Chuanhui say you went on vacation?"
"Vacation?" She paused. "I... never said that. Maybe my husband did. Probably didn't want people to know we fought."
"You didn't tell your mother he was dead?"
"No," she replied, voice small.
"Why not?"
"I didn't want to worry her."
Lu's tone sharpened. "He's dead and you're worried about her worrying? Were you planning to skip the funeral too?"
Wenwen's hands clenched. "My mother isn't in good health. I was afraid she couldn't take the news."
"And now that she knows, you're not afraid anymore?" His words cut like ice.
She blinked rapidly, wiping her mouth with her left hand, her right tracing the table in nervous patterns.
Zhou Chaochao watched her carefully. She was hiding something.
After a pause, Bai Wenwen said, "She had to find out eventually. Better from you than from me."
Zhou finally spoke, her tone composed. "Miss Bai, how was business at your reptile pet shop?"
Intimidated by Lu, Bai Wenwen felt slightly more at ease with Zhou's gentler demeanor.
"It didn't make money. He insisted on selling reptiles because he liked them. But it's a niche market—no one really keeps them. We lost almost everything, but he refused to close it."
Zhou sneaked a glance at Lu. His face showed a flicker of interest, and he gave her a subtle nod.
"What about your job at the jewelry store?" Zhou continued. "The pay decent?"
"It depends on sales. Some months I earn five, six, maybe eight thousand. Other times just the base."
"Yet your lifestyle seems quite comfortable."
Zhou's gaze swept from Bai's red-soled Louboutins to her Chanel necklace and Givenchy handbag.
"Your salary isn't high. Your family's not wealthy. Your husband's business was failing. Where did all this come from?"
Lu leaned back, arms crossed, his eyes glinting. "Tsk," he muttered.
Bai drew a breath, then said coldly, "They're knock-offs. In this world, appearances matter."
Zhou smiled faintly and replied, "You do realize it's not hard to tell if something is fake, right?"
Bai's lips tightened. She didn't respond. Her nails tapped anxiously against the table.
"Lovely manicure," Zhou said coolly. "But if you keep scratching like that, it'll ruin them."
Bai's hand stilled. She remained silent.
Lu chuckled softly, then fixed his eyes on her. "You know what's funny? We've been talking this whole time, and not once have you asked how He Wenhui died."
She swallowed. "I... I don't know."
"Guess," Lu said, mocking.
She was silent.
"It was one of your spiders," he said flatly. "It bit him. He didn't get help in time."
She blinked. "A venomous one escaped a few days ago. I thought..."
"You thought it bit him?" Lu cut in.
She nodded.
He leaned forward. "It's not that simple. Creative idea—using a spider to stage an accident. But the cleanup? Too perfect. You wiped away all the prints. Even his. It was raining. You expect us to believe he flew into the store?"
She flinched, her gaze darting.
Lu's eyes narrowed. He was intrigued. "Tell me, Bai Wenwen—do you have feelings for Chen Shengqiang?"
"What do you mean?"
"We're all adults. Don't pretend to be naïve."
She hesitated, then said, "Yes. We've always been close. He once told me... he'd do anything for me."
Lu's voice was cool. "Even kill for you?"
She said nothing.
"Would he have had the guts to kill He Wenhui for you?"
She lowered her head. "I don't know."
Lu leaned in. "Maybe he would. But you wouldn't keep seeing him. You don't love him. He can't give you the life you want."
He rose, gaze resting on her. "The more you try to hide, the more you reveal."
He exhaled in irritation. "We'll be seeing you again—probably tomorrow. I hope by then you'll be ready to tell the truth."
With that, he turned and strode toward the door. Zhou Chaochao followed, pulling out her chair hurriedly.
The rain had long ceased, but the wind whipped Lu's coat as he walked. Zhou matched his pace, eyes following him closely.
He glanced at his watch. Almost noon.
"Hungry?" he asked.
"A little."
"Let's eat." He stopped abruptly, and she looked up, hopeful. "How was my performance?" she asked.
He glanced sideways, a faint smile on his lips. "Barely passable."
She deflated. "Oh."
He smirked. "You want praise?"
"I wouldn't object," she replied quickly, grinning.
He lifted a brow. "Praise isn't free. I'll test you. Do well, and I might reconsider."
"I'm in. What's the test?"
"In the field, what do we deal with most?" he asked.
"Danger? Challenges?"
"No. People. All kinds—good, bad, honest, sly. Killers, suspects, witnesses, liars. You need to read them. Their clothes, habits, expressions."
He stopped outside a dingy eatery, gesturing to a man playing on his phone inside. "You have three minutes. Tell me everything you can deduce about him."
Zhou stepped closer, observed, then returned.
"Grease around his mouth, oil stains on his chest—just ate."
"Hair's greasy, nails filthy, ignored the tissues right in front of him. Sloppy. Unhygienic."
"Keep going."
"Calloused hands, cement dust on his shirt—probably a construction worker nearby."
"In three minutes, he slapped the table three times, swore seven. Bad temper, poor emotional control. Probably low education, low income."
"And?" Lu prompted.
"Unmarried."
His brows lifted. "How'd you know that?"
"Married men usually take better care of themselves. No wife would tolerate that mess."
Lu scoffed. "You think having a wife guarantees cleanliness? What if she's messier than him? Or they're living apart? Or she just doesn't care?"
Zhou opened her mouth to argue but fell silent.
Lu tapped her forehead lightly. "Next time you make a guess based on nothing but fantasy, I'll put you under a bridge with a fortune-telling booth. Might earn the department some extra cash."
Zhou gaped. "Captain! That's harsh! All this for one mistake?"
He grinned, striding forward. "Not harsh—just high standards. Helps you recognize your weaknesses and push harder."