Attending ex-girlfriend's wedding, arresting the groom's officer on the spot

Zhang Hui held a photocopy of Zhang Kaiqi's resignation letter, the edges worn smooth from repeated handling. The penmanship of the four characters "personal development" had a stiff, forceful quality, starkly different from the smooth handwriting of the other documents in the file. Old Zhou from HR pushed over a cup of chrysanthemum tea, the tea stains on the rim as clear as tree rings: "He was acting strangely the day he submitted the report. He was checking parts lists with the warehouse in the morning, went to the finance department at noon, and came back to slam the resignation letter on my desk."

"Was there any argument or unusual contact?" Zhang Hui's fingertip traced the annotation "Capacitor model pending verification" on the handover list, the ink slightly blurred at the edges, as if his hand had trembled while writing. Old Zhou suddenly lowered his voice and glanced towards the door: "The vice president spoke with him in the smoking room on the top floor. When I went to deliver the documents, I heard something being smashed inside, but I couldn't make out the specifics of the argument."

The progress bar for the technical department's data recovery from Zhang Kaiqi's office computer was stuck at 97%, stalled for a full three hours. Frustrated, Zhang ran his fingers through his hair, pounding away on the keyboard: "The hard drive was formatted with professional software, even the sectors were repeatedly overwritten, like someone's afraid we'll find something." Zhang Hui stared at the garbled text flashing on the screen, suddenly remembering the three missing capacitors in the warehouse—perhaps not lost, but deliberately taken away.

Zhang Kaiqi's old workstation has a new owner. Intern Xiao Wang is wiping the drawer with an alcohol swab. "This lock has been broken for a long time," she said, pointing to the seam of the bottom drawer. "I found something stuck in there a few days ago when I was moving things." A brass key lay in a dusty corner, a faded bear charm hanging from the key ring, the fabric worn shiny, revealing the cotton inside.

When they found Zhang Kaiqi's ex-wife, Li Mei, she was arranging newly arrived red roses at a florist. The crisp sound of scissors cutting the stems echoed in the small space, and deep red sap splattered on her black manicured nails. "We've been divorced for three years, and apart from sending child support, we haven't exchanged more than three words." She placed the trimmed roses into a ceramic vase, her movements deliberately swift. "He never cared about this family. His phone was always on silent, and he'd hide on the balcony at night to make calls, saying things like, 'This batch of parts can't have any problems.'"

Zhang Hui placed the brass key on the glass counter; the teddy bear charm gleamed with an old luster in the sunlight. Li Mei's scissors clattered to the floor. As she bent down to pick them up, Zhang Hui noticed a reddish scratch on her neck. "This was my thirtieth birthday gift to him," her voice suddenly trembled, her fingertips digging into a rose thorn, dripping blood onto the petals. "He said he lost it during the move. So that's how it is..."

“You knew he had a mistress?” Zhang Hui opened his notebook, the pen tip hovering over the paper, the ink slowly spreading. Li Mei remained silent for a full two minutes, then pulled a folded photograph from the deepest part of her wallet. On a shopping mall escalator, Zhang Kaiqi was holding hands with a woman in a beige trench coat; her profile was turned towards the camera, the pearl earring on her earlobe shimmering under the lights. “Found it in the back seat of his car,” Li Mei said, her fingernails creased the edges of the photo. “Took it on New Year’s Eve; he said he was accompanying a client on a business trip, no one would believe that.”

In the background of the photo, the mall map prominently displayed the sign for the "Electronics Section." Zhang Hui zoomed in on the image; the woman was wearing a platinum ring on her ring finger, the style matching the shape of the ring mark left on the corpse in the warehouse. "What was her name?" Li Mei snatched the photo back and stuffed it into her wallet, the zipper zipping loudly. "I only heard him call out 'Xiao Su' on the phone, saying he rented an apartment in the development zone, not far from the parts warehouse."

As Zhang Hui stepped out of the flower shop, dusk had already crept over the treetops of the sycamore trees at the street corner. He clutched the photo of the key, the gleaming light reflecting off its metal surface almost blinding. He thought of the mysterious man in the baseball cap, the fibers in the warehouse ventilation shaft, the deleted files on Zhang Kaiqi's computer—these seemingly scattered fragments all seemed to point to the woman named "Xiao Su."

"Check the housing rental records in the development zone for the past three years," Zhang Hui said into the walkie-talkie, the evening breeze lifting the hem of his coat. "Focus on finding tenants surnamed Su, or accounts with financial dealings with Zhang Kaiqi." He gazed in the direction of the warehouse in the distance, the corrugated iron roof gleaming coldly in the night, as if hiding countless unsolved secrets.

Soon, the clues were found.

The old residential buildings in the development zone reeked of coal smoke. Zhang Hui clutched the shopping mall photo, his fingers crumpling the edges of the paper into deep creases. The security door of the west-facing apartment on the third floor was painted with peeling, off-white paint, and the apartment number "302" had been colored rainbow-colored by a child with colored pens, strikingly similar to the color scheme of Su Wanjun's trench coat in the photo.

"Who is it?" A woman's voice came from inside the door, languid with sleepiness, but suddenly tightened the moment the security door chain was pulled open. When Zhang Hui showed his ID, he clearly saw the almond-shaped eyes behind the door suddenly narrow, and the pearl earring shimmered with a flustered light in the dim hallway light—exactly the same earring on the woman's earlobe in the photo.

Su Wanjun was wearing a loose-fitting gray loungewear set, the neckline askew, revealing a faint pink hickey on her collarbone. As she stepped aside to let them in, her slippers scraped against the floor, as if she were stalling for time. On the coffee table in the living room were two overturned mugs, brown coffee stains on the bottom, and a faint lipstick mark on the rim of one of them, the shade perfectly matching the woman's lipstick in Li Mei's photo.

“Zhang Kaiqi?” Su Wanjun’s fingers unconsciously twisted the cuff of her pajamas, where there was an indelible oil stain, which was later identified as flux from an electronic component. “We know each other, but we’re just ordinary friends.” Her gaze swept over the photo in Zhang Hui’s hand, and she suddenly turned to pour water. The water from the kettle spout splashed onto the cup, wetting her trembling fingers.

Zhang Hui's gaze fell on the photo frame on the TV cabinet—a picture of Su Wanjun and Zhang Kaiqi at the beach, both wearing matching silver rings. The ring mark on Zhang Kaiqi's ring finger perfectly matched the mark on the corpse in the warehouse. "Would ordinary friends spend New Year's Eve together?" He pushed the photo in front of her, the glass of the frame reflecting her instantly pale face. "Where is that ring now?"

Su Wanjun's Adam's apple bobbed violently. She grabbed her water glass and gulped down a large mouthful, water dripping from the corner of her mouth into her collar. "It's been...lost a long time ago...it's windy at the beach, it probably fell on the sand." Her gaze drifted to the balcony, where a beige trench coat was hanging. The frayed edges of the coat matched those in the mall photos perfectly, and half of a men's handkerchief peeked out of the pocket, embroidered with the initials "ZKQ".

"Did you see Zhang Kaiqi before he disappeared?" Xiao Li suddenly asked, her voice startling Su Wanjun so much that she almost dropped her water glass. Her nails dug deeply into her palms, leaving several crescent-shaped white marks: "No, no... The last time I saw him was last month, at the market." (End of Chapter)