Chapter 78: Entering the Liu Residence by Night

Miao Ruolan said, “Just now you told me to use my full strength—wasn’t that to intimidate them, so they wouldn’t act recklessly?”

Indeed, when Liu Liang had appeared, Lin Xiaosu had whispered in her ear: let her unleash her full might, using her ancient martial skills to awe everyone present.

“To intimidate Liu Liang, not the others.”

“Liu Liang, the others… is there really a difference?”

“Of course, there’s a difference! With your abilities, you can deter Liu Liang from making a move, but you’ll also force Liu Yuanchang to act personally.”

A storm churned in Miao Ruolan’s heart.

At last, she understood the full chain of Lin Xiaosu’s deductions.

Every step was beyond imagination.

Uncovering evidence of ancient martial arts used in the crime was extraordinary.

Revealing this to the enemy in advance was extraordinary.

And in front of their key man, having her go all out—its true purpose wasn’t intimidation, but bait.

He had seen through the Liu family’s nature.

He knew they would never let them leave Baiyangchong with “unknown evidence” in hand.

If Liu Liang could subdue them, it would be done on the spot.

If Liu Liang couldn’t, then Liu Yuanchang would have no choice but to come forward himself.

What he wanted, was for Liu Yuanchang to act in person.

This was a strategy where every step was calculated.

“When will he make his move?”

“Since it’s bait, you have to offer the fish a window full of possibilities.”

“At night?”

“The forecast says there’ll be heavy rain in the latter half of tonight. A moonless night—perfect for murder and arson.”

The hours that followed seemed to drag on indefinitely for Zhou Xi.

After lunch, the three of them stayed put.

Lin Xiaosu chatted with several drivers who’d stopped for a meal—about the mine, the mine owners, the transfer station below, and the former Huai Shu’ao village.

It was, unmistakably, a search for clues to the Liu family’s crimes, but the passing drivers were wary. When the Liu family was mentioned, most feigned ignorance.

There was one more guest at the farmhouse: a young man in plain clothes, sitting on the porch playing with his phone.

Lin Xiaosu seemed not to notice him at all.

And so the afternoon slipped by.

As the sun set, the sky grew dark and heavy.

At last, the three left the farmhouse.

Turning the corner, Zhou Xi’s eyes blazed with fury as she stared at the mountainside.

Miao Ruolan followed her gaze. Where her home had once stood, a bulldozer was working through the night—perhaps all day long already. Wherever its headlights swept, the house was gone. What had been a ruin in the daylight was now a level patch of earth.

This, then, was the aftermath of Lin Xiaosu’s investigation.

It had hastened the clearing of the site.

Miao Ruolan exhaled softly. “Don’t dwell on it. That house was uninhabitable anyway.”

“I’m not thinking about the house!” Zhou Xi started, but swallowed the rest of her sentence. She didn’t know how to continue—now that the house was leveled and the bricks meticulously cleared away, not a single one would remain intact. Was the chain of evidence destroyed, root and branch?

Lin Xiaosu wasn’t looking in that direction. His eyes were fixed on a villa.

It was, perhaps, the most luxurious residence within thirty li.

Enormous grounds, an ideal location, artificial hills, a garage with three expensive cars. Even at a distance of three hundred meters, through the dusk, Lin Xiaosu saw their badges clearly—each worth over a million.

His gaze lifted to the rooftop, where a glass-enclosed tearoom exuded a certain elegance. There, seated atop the villa, was the man he’d seen through the reverse flow of time: Liu Yuanchang.

No stars, no moon. Clouds thick as ink. Sitting on the rooftop, he naturally assumed that no one could see him.

But Lin Xiaosu, of course, could.

“Let’s go. Liu Yuanchang is home.” Lin Xiaosu strode toward the villa.

The two women exchanged a glance and followed.

On the rooftop, Liu Yuanchang picked up his phone. It was a call from Liu Liang.

“Dad, they’re heading towards the villa.”

Liu Yuanchang abruptly stood up, his deep eyes piercing the darkness, catching sight of the three figures walking toward the villa from three hundred meters away.

“Any news from the county?” he asked, his voice low.

“Nothing. I’ve got men watching outside the police station, and on both roads—no sign of trouble.”

Liu Yuanchang pondered. “Apart from those keeping watch at the police station, have everyone else withdraw.”

“Alright. I’ll block their retreat from behind. Let’s see what he…”

The Liu family villa’s gates were massive.

Lin Xiaosu knocked lightly. Soon, a young man in black sportswear appeared. A sensor light under the tree flickered on as he approached—dim and almost eerie—casting his features into sharp relief.

He was Liu Yuanchang’s eldest son, Liu Jun, who usually managed the quarry.

“And you are…?” Unlike Liu Liang, Liu Jun was calm and even friendly.

“Lin Xiaosu, from the Fengcheng Detective Agency. I’m here to discuss a case with Liu Yuanchang.”

“Come in.”

Liu Jun stepped aside, and the three entered the courtyard. With a wave of his hand, the gate closed behind them.

But it wasn’t locked.

Miao Ruolan noticed this detail.

Her eyes swept the night behind them and spotted several suspicious vehicles on the road.

Inside the yard, two enormous wolfhounds glared menacingly from the darkness, their eyes glowing.

They entered the grand villa. The living room was opulent. At the far end of a vast sofa sat a man: Liu Yuanchang.

Before him, a set of rosewood tea ware.

He sat preparing tea, looking less like a ruthless martial artist and more like a successful entrepreneur.

“Liu Yuanchang, is it?” Lin Xiaosu strolled over.

“That’s right. You’re Detective Lin from Fengcheng?”

“I am.”

“The tea is ready, Detective Lin. Please, have a seat—all of you.”

Lin Xiaosu sat across from him. Zhou Xi took the seat by his side.

Miao Ruolan remained standing behind Lin Xiaosu, while Liu Jun stood by the sofa, arms crossed.

Three cups of tea were set before them, but no one reached for a cup.

Lin Xiaosu spoke. “There’s no need for courtesy. We’re not here for pleasantries.”

“Then, Detective Lin, please speak your mind,” said Liu Yuanchang.

“I’m here at Zhou Xi’s request to investigate her parents’ deaths. I’ve concluded my investigation. It was you, Liu Yuanchang, who murdered them.”

The entire hall fell silent at these words.

It was as if even breathing had ceased.

A woman descending the stairs stopped abruptly at the second step.

For an instant, Liu Yuanchang’s face stiffened, but his smile returned. “Detective Lin, you’re talking nonsense.”

A genial tone, but the words were sharp as knives.

“You think I can’t find evidence?” Lin Xiaosu leaned forward. “That only proves you know nothing of advanced modern forensic techniques.”

“Is that so?” Liu Yuanchang leaned back, spreading his hands along the sofa. “Let’s hear it, then—what evidence do you have?”

“Ancient martial arts involve the flow of inner energy. Each style leaves unique traces. In this brick you shattered, the force pattern of your Liu family’s energy is preserved.” Lin Xiaosu reached into his bag, producing a red brick.

The brick looked intact, but Lin Xiaosu handled it with care.

Liu Yuanchang’s smile remained, but his eyes, fixed on the brick, lost all trace of humor.

Legends of martial artists—masked experts killing in secret, wounds analyzed to deduce the killer’s identity—are familiar from countless films. Movies may not reflect reality, but who could say what modern forensics was truly capable of?

Lin Xiaosu continued, “That contract—you forced Zhou’s parents to sign it, breaking their finger bones in the process. Thirty thousand yuan. Ha! You weren’t even willing to pay them for their lives. You didn’t leave them three yuan. Eight load-bearing beams—you struck each with your palm. As you left, you smashed a stone against the house’s partition wall. That stone was the final straw that brought the house down… Wasn’t it?”

His words rolled on, and Zhou Xi felt as if her heart was the mighty Yangtze surging eastward.

But she suppressed her grief and rage, for she too had a task at hand—her hand pressed to her chest, as if restraining her emotions, but in fact, hidden in her clothing, a phone was recording everything.

No one noticed her.

Everyone’s attention was riveted to Lin Xiaosu’s words; all were shaken to the core.

Even a man as hardened as Liu Yuanchang felt his heart pounding. The entire process was as if witnessed with his own eyes. Was this the power of modern investigation?

Was this the Fengcheng detective, famed for his uncanny skills?

It was ten, a hundred times more incredible than the stories.

“You’re slandering me…” Liu Yuanchang shot to his feet.

“Don’t be hasty! There’s more. The Liu family’s crimes don’t end there!” Lin Xiaosu raised his hand. “Take the tragedy of Huai Shu’ao years ago. Do you really think I can’t seek justice for those villagers?”

“What does Huai Shu’ao have to do with my family?” Veins bulged on Liu Yuanchang’s forehead.

“Your third son, Liu Liang, led five men and raped a woman in front of her husband and child—taking turns! At the doors of eight villagers, you posted men to block them, threatening to kill any who dared call the police... Liu Yuanchang, your family’s evil is unprecedented in history. You forced them to flee, but do you believe that if I wish, I can find that couple among the endless crowds? I can summon the eight neighboring families to testify in court! Do you know what would happen then? The Liu family would become a prime target in the campaign against organized crime. Your family’s downfall would be written in bold strokes in the police records!”

The courtyard gate creaked open—someone slipped in, soundless.

No one in the room seemed to notice, but Liu Yuanchang’s face slowly changed, growing calm. “Lin Xiaosu, I believe you.”

Six words, simple and quiet.

Yet Zhou Xi and Miao Ruolan’s hearts leapt as one.