Chapter 79 01

Chapter 79.01

Truth is a mirror shattered into countless pieces, each person believing the small fragment they see is the complete truth.

—Richard Burton, "The Post-Truth Era"

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The Mid-Autumn Festival holiday had just ended.

This should have been a warm time for family reunions, but for families with missing loved ones, it was undoubtedly salt in the wound. Every holiday meant for family reunions became a source of pain in their hearts.

Thus, every year after the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Missing Persons Investigation Unit enters its busiest period. Holding onto a sliver of hope, family members flock to various precincts to inquire about the progress of their cases.

For a time, assistance requests and file retrieval applications from the precincts piled up. The members of the investigation unit had to constantly make calls to verify details, and for cases involving other cities, they had to communicate and coordinate with police officers from other departments.

This situation kept every member of the Missing Persons Investigation Unit exceptionally busy, with overtime becoming a daily routine. Lunch breaks were shortened, and even occasional trips to the bathroom had to be rushed.

Although He Lin had dyslexia, faced with such a heavy workload, he had no choice but to go through some case files. After a day’s work, his head throbbed with pain, feeling as if it were about to explode.

At times like these, Li Shang’s words, "Let me help you," were like music to his ears, rescuing He Lin from his misery.

Not only that, Li Shang was the department's saving grace.

His reading speed was fast, and he pulled files more efficiently than others. When he worked, he operated like a well-oiled machine, naturally taking on the role of the main force.

Gradually, He Lin even entrusted Li Shang with the authority to delegate tasks within the team, allowing him to make arrangements and manage.

After Li Shang’s meticulous streamlining, the department’s workflow became significantly more efficient.

Li Shang also had another ability: he could gauge everyone’s productivity with extreme precision, down to the minute. Under his management, the entire department operated like a set of tightly interlocking gears, running efficiently and orderly.

Thanks to his efforts, what had initially seemed like a daunting task now appeared likely to be completed ahead of schedule.

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In the afternoon at the Missing Persons Investigation Unit, He Lin was away at a meeting, leaving only four people in the office.

Fang Jue, having just finished wrapping up the previous email, stretched his stiff neck and groaned, "I hate Wednesdays the most. Friday feels so far away."

Cheng Xiaoyi, sitting nearby, looked at him sympathetically. "Are you confused, dear? Today is only Tuesday. How did you fast-forward to Wednesday?"

Fang Jue, upon hearing this unwelcome news, let out a wail. "What? It’s only Tuesday? There are still three days until Friday?!"

Cheng Xiaoyi’s hair was messy, and she hadn’t even bothered to tie it into her usual short ponytail. She chuckled and said, "Great. Seeing you go crazy too puts me at ease. At least I’m not the only one losing my mind in this office."

Lao Wu tried to cheer everyone up. "Let’s keep pushing. We’re more than halfway through. It’ll be over soon." As he said this, he glanced at Li Shang. "This is largely thanks to our extra help. Remember last year? We were busy for almost a whole month."

Fang Jue added, "I know. Right now, it’s just hard mode. Without Brother Li, it would be hell mode. We owe it all to Brother Li for saving our skins." He glanced at Captain He’s empty desk and then at Li Shang. "Sometimes I wonder if Captain He saved your life in a past life."

Li Shang was fully focused on his screen, seemingly unaware of the conversation around him. His face was expressionless, and a pale glimpse of his neck was visible above the collar of his white shirt. His slender fingers nimbly tapped on the keyboard.

A moment later, Li Shang expertly clicked his mouse and sent out a new task delegation email.

Seeing the sudden notification of an unread email, Fang Jue made a gesture as if he were spitting blood. Even the happy puppy couldn’t stay happy anymore. He slumped over his desk, looking completely drained. Then, Fang Jue stood up, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands in prayer. "Please, no new cases at a time like this. Absolutely no new cases."

Lao Wu said, "Fang Jue, don’t say that. Whatever you say usually comes true. Don’t jinx it."

Before he could finish his sentence, He Lin walked in and announced, "I have some good news for everyone. A new case has just come in."

For a moment, three voices in the office exclaimed, "What?!"

He Lin, holding the case coordination request he had just received from the 8th Precinct, was taken aback by their reaction. "What’s with the response?"

Wu Yunsheng pointed at Fang Jue. "We’re marveling at someone’s jinxing mouth."

Fang Jue rubbed his nose. "Please call me the prophet…"

Cheng Xiaoyi shot him a sharp glare. "Next time the bureau organizes a game of Werewolf, no matter what, I’m voting you out first."

He Lin walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and casually took out a few pieces of candy. He tossed them to the three who were still sighing and said jokingly, "Here, if you’re feeling overwhelmed, have something sweet to brighten things up."

Fang Jue tore open the fruit hard candy thrown to him, popped it into his mouth, and muttered, "It’s not that I’m overwhelmed; it’s that my life’s hard…"

Li Shang was still staring at his computer screen. The earlier commotion seemed unrelated to him. He Lin hadn’t given him any candy, and he didn’t seem to mind, keeping his head down and focusing on his work.

While the others were busy eating, He Lin took out a white chocolate biscuit from his drawer.

Although he had never seen Li Shang eat candy, he was certain Li Shang liked it. After all, every time he gave him something, Li Shang seemed in better spirits.

He Lin casually walked to Li Shang’s desk and placed the biscuit in Li Shang’s right hand, which was lying flat on the desk after he had just finished using the mouse.

The exchange was natural and smooth. It was unclear whether it was a coincidence or if Li Shang had anticipated He Lin would give him something separately and deliberately placed his hand there.

Li Shang looked down at the biscuit. As usual, he didn’t open it immediately. Instead, his Adam’s apple bobbed unconsciously, and he calmly closed his hand around the biscuit, carefully storing it in his clothes pocket.

He Lin had always believed that eating candy was a joyful experience, and seeing someone else enjoy candy he had given them felt even better than eating it himself.

Through the same candy, the same taste, two people could share an emotional connection, bringing them closer.

But he had never once seen Li Shang eat the candy he gave him. The more this happened, the more He Lin wanted to give him candy and see him eat it.

It was like a challenge, and He Lin never tired of it.

He wanted to see what it would take for Li Shang to finally open the wrapper and eat it right away.

Each time, he gave him different candies, more expensive candies, only to see Li Shang pocket them time and again, as if they had sunk into the sea.

It seemed he didn’t like chocolate biscuits either…

He Lin felt slightly disappointed.

Cheng Xiaoyi, who had inadvertently witnessed this scene, quickly turned away, thinking to herself, "These two, even sharing snacks feels like a clandestine meeting." The candy in her mouth suddenly didn’t taste as sweet. She felt like an NPC who had been given candy merely as an afterthought because He Lin wanted to give some to Li Shang.

But watching Lao Wu, who spat out his candy after finding it too sweet, and Fang Jue, whose cheeks were bulging with candy, Cheng Xiaoyi quickly felt better. After all, she wasn’t the only NPC in this scenario. It didn’t matter.

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He Lin cleared his mind of distractions, leaned in toward the computer, and began discussing the work progress with Li Shang.

He Lin asked quietly, "How much is left?"

Li Shang pointed to the list of unfinished tasks on the computer screen.

He Lin asked again, "Roughly how long until everything is completed?"

Li Shang didn’t speak. Instead, he quickly typed on the keyboard and then showed He Lin the screen: "At the current pace, we should be mostly wrapped up by tomorrow."

The peak period for file retrieval had passed, with the number of daily emails dropping from over twenty to about five.

This news lifted He Lin's spirits. It was much earlier than he had estimated, meaning everyone could be off the hook sooner.

He Lin asked, "What do you think we should do with this new case? Should we wait or…"

What he feared most was encountering a new case during the peak retrieval period. If their energy was stretched too thin, they would struggle to juggle both tasks. As the main force of the team, He Lin naturally wanted to seek Li Shang’s opinion first.

Li Shang thought for a moment, his gaze fixed on the schedule. After clasping his hands for a moment, he made a decision. Typing on the keyboard, he wrote: "Let's split into groups. I'll adjust the progress so the archiving can proceed simultaneously while we investigate the case first." He then added, "We'll include Lao Wu in the preliminary analysis meeting."

Wu Yunsheng, with his extensive experience, possessed the sharp intuition of a seasoned detective, which could compensate for the shortcomings of both him and He Lin.

Fang Jue was mentored by Lao Wu, and Cheng Xiaoyi primarily handled assigned investigative tasks. These two could join in later.

"Sounds good, I'll follow your lead," He Lin said softly, patting his shoulder. He then turned to assign tasks: "Fang Jue and Cheng Xiaoyi, continue with your current work for now. Li Shang and Lao Wu, put your work on hold temporarily. The family members and the precinct captain in charge will be here shortly. Let's review the case together first."

The three of them walked to the conference room.

Li Shang opened the cardboard file. Most missing persons case files weren’t very thick, usually under ten pages, but today’s was exceptionally large, containing over a hundred pages of material.

Li Shang gave the file a quick skim: "The missing person is a journalist. The file compiles all the written news articles he previously published, so there’s quite a lot of content." He continued, "The missing person is Yu Jinghui, male, 28 years old at the time of disappearance, has been missing for three years."

He Lin’s eyes fell on a photo of Yu Jinghui. He was very young, a handsome, energetic-looking young man, making it hard to connect him with the misfortune of having been missing for so many years.

Wu Yunsheng frowned slightly and sighed softly. Drawing on years of investigative experience, he said, "The profession of a journalist... I’m afraid the outcome of this case is likely to be grim."

Having handled so many missing persons cases over the years, the officers at the Missing Persons Investigation Unit could usually form a basic judgment about the outcome as soon as they received a file.

When the profession of journalist was mentioned, the first thought that often came to mind was murder to silence someone. Combined with the fact that Yu Jinghui had been missing for three years, the possibility of him having been killed was indeed high.

He Lin said solemnly, "When it comes to clever ways of killing, I’ve always believed there are three types. The first is murder disguised as an accidental death, executed so flawlessly that no one can detect anything suspicious. The second is completely destroying the body and eliminating all traces, turning it into an unsolved missing persons case. After all, without a body, it’s difficult to even open a case, let alone solve it."

Li Shang turned his head to ask, "What about the third type?"

He Lin replied, "Killing by using someone else’s hand, especially since the rise of the internet. You can drive someone to madness or death without getting your own hands dirty."

Li Shang murmured "Oh" and opened his notebook.

He Lin frowned, "You’re not going to take notes again, are you? I was just talking off the top of my head."

Li Shang continued writing, "I’ll record it and compile it into a booklet. It might come in handy for puzzling cases in the future."

He Lin was almost choked on that response.

Wu Yunsheng quickly changed the subject: "For this case, the information should be complete, right?"

Li Shang briefly summarized the information from the file for them.

After graduating from university, Yu Jinghui started working at a local newspaper. At that time, social media was booming while traditional print media was gradually declining.

To keep up with the times, the newspaper also started its own public WeChat account and news app. Yu Jinghui was the editor in charge of the public WeChat account.

He wrote a series of news articles aimed primarily at attracting web traffic. The most popular was a channel on the public WeChat account dedicated to publishing exclusive local news—exposés like the jade market’s counterfeit scandals, stories of husbands cheating, wives catching mistresses in hotels, abducted sons reuniting with families years later, and other dramatic social news. Sometimes, there would be follow-up reports.

This type of news was perfect fodder for casual conversations among older folks, so it gained a lot of attention.

Yu Jinghui quickly grew the public WeChat account, gaining over a million followers. He was promoted and received a raise, bought a house and a car, and had two recently graduated junior reporters working under him to help with writing.

Yu Jinghui went missing in the winter three years ago.

The day before, he had left work laughing and joking with colleagues, making plans to get dinner together.

The next day, he didn’t show up for work.

When colleagues couldn’t reach him, they contacted his family. He wasn’t at home, his car was still there, but his phone, identification, and the laptop he had taken with him after work were missing.

After everyone searched for him without success, they eventually reported him missing.

Yu Jinghui was single and unmarried, with relatively simple social connections.

The police investigated and questioned his family and colleagues but didn’t find many valuable leads.

Time passed quickly, and three years later, Yu Jinghui’s younger sister, Yu Tongtong, accidentally discovered a clue her brother had left behind before his disappearance.

Thus, this long-dormant case was brought back to light.

Li Shang quickly skimmed through all the articles Yu Jinghui had published on the public WeChat account.

He said to He Lin, "The reposted news isn’t problematic and can be ruled out. Among the community news pieces written for this channel, nothing particularly serious has been found so far."

In short, on the surface, Yu Jinghui’s published news pieces were mostly minor and sensational, nothing particularly major—it hardly seemed to warrant silencing him through murder.

He Lin said, "It’s possible there was hidden information, or news he hadn’t yet written. It’s even possible he was merely an informant."

Lao Wu also analyzed, "As a journalist, like a police officer, he often had access to information ordinary people wouldn’t. It’s possible that some piece of information brought disaster upon him, leading to his disappearance."

He Lin nodded, "When the family members arrive, we’ll listen to any new clues she’s found."

At two o’clock, the people from the 8th Precinct arrived on time. It was a veteran beat cop, accompanied by a female university student who had just graduated.

The veteran officer, surnamed Liu, happened to know Lao Wu, and the two exchanged a few pleasantries.

The university student was Yu Jinghui’s sister—Yu Tongtong.

The five of them sat together in the small conference room.

After brief greetings, He Lin asked, "Regarding this case, what clues have you discovered recently?"

Officer Liu gestured for Yu Tongtong to speak.

The girl rummaged through her backpack and pulled out an old phone that looked quite dated: "A few days ago, while cleaning the house, I found my brother’s old phone in a drawer. When I turned it on, I discovered an expense-tracking app inside that syncs information from the cloud. In it, I found a note my brother had written, dated one week before his disappearance."

As Yu Tongtong spoke, her eyes began to well up.

She missed her brother so much, and this record felt like a message from him across time and space.

He Lin took the phone and saw a short sentence on the screen: "Verify the matter regarding Kindergarten Principal Cui—was she wrongly accused?"

The sentence was brief and vague, more like a memo Yu Jinghui had written for himself, or perhaps an eerie final message.

It cast a mysterious veil over his disappearance.

After glancing at it, Li Shang quickly began sifting through the mountain of documents in front of him.

Officer Liu said, "Back then, we conducted a detailed investigation into the journalist’s disappearance. Among the news articles he wrote, three were about this *Kindergarten Principal Cui*…"

Just as he said this, Li Shang had already precisely pulled out the relevant news articles from the thick stack of documents and neatly placed them on top.

He completed this task silently and went back to taking notes.

Officer Liu, seeing this, immediately said, "Yes, yes, that’s them! There are three reports in total."

Fortunately, those documents were printed copies, so they weren’t too difficult to identify.

He Lin flipped through them. The news reports were about a private kindergarten called *Yuncheng Xixi Kindergarten*, located in the Chengbei District. The kindergarten was very small, had been operating for ten years, and before its dissolution, it had about twenty children and two teachers.

The first news article was published three months after the school year began that year, in December, when parents noticed issues with their children’s health.

After having lunch at Xixi Kindergarten, the kids kept having symptoms such as diarrhea, vomiting, and not feeling well.

Parents suspected that the food provided by the kindergarten was unclean.

As an investigative journalist, Yu Jinghui went with the parents one noon to enter the kindergarten and investigate.

The small kindergarten did not have a dedicated chef; instead, Principal Cui prepared the lunch herself every day.

When the parents inspected the food in the kitchen, they were shocked by what they saw.

They discovered that the children’s meals included expired milk, moldy frozen chicken wings, and moldy bread.

Enraged, the parents could no longer contain their anger. They trashed the kindergarten’s kitchen and demanded an explanation from Principal Cui.

After skimming through most of it, He Lin saw Li Shang take out his phone and scan the QR code at the bottom of the printout of the article, which led to the detailed page of the news story.

Below the article was a video, which He Lin played.

The phone blasted sounds of chaos, with children’s cries audible in the background.

The video was filmed in the kindergarten’s cafeteria—a shabby, makeshift room with a cooking stove, in very poor condition. Even with thorough cleaning, it would be difficult to ensure safety and hygiene in such a place.

In the footage, a middle-aged woman was surrounded by furious parents. She was Principal Cui.

In the video, Principal Cui appeared dark-skinned, sallow, and skinny. At that moment, her face was flushed, her eyes filled with tears. Stuttering, she struggled to respond to the parents’ accusations.

An angry man in the video yelled, pointing excitedly at a stove nearby, "Look at this, just look! These chicken wings are clearly moldy—they’re rotten! How could you feed this to children?"

Principal Cui stammered defensively, "No, that’s not…"

But the man angrily shoved her, cutting her off.

The camera then shook and swung to show another area, where an elderly woman angrily said, "Look at this milk—it’s already past its expiration date! Our children drink this every day!"

Principal Cui’s face turned even redder: "That… that was for me to drink. I will definitely figure out why the children got sick."

"Liar!" someone spat at Principal Cui. "You clearly bought expired milk to cut costs, and now you’re acting innocent."

Clearly, no one was willing to listen to her explanation. The parents shouted accusations at her from every direction.

"My child had diarrhea for two days this week—the food here is definitely unclean!"

"My daughter vomited all over her bed on Friday!"

"Listen, if anything happens to my child, I will not let you get away with this!"

An angry parent grabbed some vegetables from a cutting board and threw them violently at Principal Cui’s head. The Chinese cabbage stacked in the small kitchen got caught up in the chaos too, with vegetable leaves scattered all over the floor.

In the middle of all this chaos, the camera captured a few children who had gathered at the door after hearing the noise. They looked frightened, not understanding what the adults were fighting about.

Principal Cui struggled and shouted, "If you keep making trouble, I’m calling the police!"

"Go ahead, call them!" someone yelled. "We want the police to see who's right!"

"Trying to blame us first when you're the guilty one?" a worked-up parent exclaimed, rushing forward to pull Principal Cui’s hair and attempting to force rotten chicken wings from the table into her mouth.

It seemed the person filming feared the situation was spiraling out of control and jumped in to pull the parent back: "Let's all calm down and talk. No violence. We came here to solve the problem."

The video ended abruptly at this point, but the chaotic and heart-wrenching scene really stuck with everyone who watched it.

Student food service has always been a major concern for parents and society, especially when it involves a kindergarten.

The shocking footage of this video ignited public outrage.

Below the news article, everyone in the comments was furious, all slamming Principal Cui’s actions, with many saying their hearts broke for the young children.

The comments section had over a thousand replies.

"What kind of person is she? Who would be so heartless as to be allowed to run a kindergarten?"

"Serving this rotten garbage to children?"

"Can't even watch this. The way she's dodging questions and stuttering clearly shows a guilty conscience!"

"Student food safety is urgent!"

The second news article was published a month later. This report was shorter, containing only text and no video.

It mentioned that Principal Cui had not made any changes to the kindergarten and had refused to apologize.

She only sent one message in the parents’ group chat, tagging everyone: "Don’t bring your children here tomorrow." After that, she deleted the group chat and blocked all the parents.

From that day on, the kindergarten’s gate remained locked. Parents repeatedly went to the kindergarten to demand explanations, compensation, and tuition refunds but were unable to find Principal Cui.

Some also pointed out that since most of the children at this kindergarten came from migrant worker families, the government provided certain food subsidies for these children’s kindergarten education.

Xixi Kindergarten was subsequently suspected of defrauding the subsidy program, and someone reported it to the relevant authorities.

To make matters worse, many children who had attended the kindergarten were found to have abnormal results during physical examinations.

One parent stated that if the kindergarten was indeed involved in more serious issues, they would be willing to join other parents in taking legal action.

This news made people even angrier, setting off another round of condemnation online.

The third news article was published half a month after the second one. This report was even shorter.

Cui, the principal of Xixi Kindergarten, had recently returned the tuition money to the previously enrolled children and sent 10,000 yuan to each family for nutritional expenses. Shortly afterward, she was found hanged in that kindergarten.

With this, the incident of the kindergarten lunch issue was over.