Kiwi Beyond the Cage 004

**Fog Outside the Cage (I)**

**July 14th, 9:14 AM.**

A cleaner at Huan Yu Jiayuan Building A, while sweeping the fourth-floor hallway, noticed a half-open door. Clutched at the threshold was a pale, bloodied hand. Upon pushing the door open, he encountered a bloodied corpse, unrecognizable.

The victim, identified as Sheng Jia Lin, was a mid-aged male—a renowned domestic entrepreneur and philanthropist. His enterprises spanned multiple sectors, with Guangtai Technology being the most prominent.

The entire fourth floor was owned solely by Sheng Long.

On the night of the incident, Sheng Long, injured, was rushed to the hospital. Unaware of his father’s visit to Huanmeng, he learned of Sheng Jia Lin’s death from the police. Due to a head injury and concussion, his consciousness was blurred, and the police, after their hospital visit, failed to extract useful information.

The case connected to Ji Wei merely because she was the resident below the crime scene, and like the fourth-floor owner, she occupied an entire floor.

Ou Yang Lin hadn’t anticipated that routine questioning would uncover a new “murder” from Ji Wei. Before they could link the cases, they were informed of Ji Wei’s “instability.”

A patient unable to distinguish reality from fantasy would have testimonies with little credibility, even disruptive to the investigation. Yet Ou Yang’s experience told her Ji Wei wasn’t a “typical” patient.

Thus, after leaving Guangtai Technology Tower, Ou Yang didn’t depart immediately. Instead, she waited until下班time, conducting discreet interviews with employees without revealing case details.

“Ji Wei had no close friends and seldom interacted with colleagues. Initially, we ignored her.”

“Being a parachutist, even HR didn’t know her background. We suspected she was involved with Wu Li, Sheng’s assistant, an alleged alumnus and confidant.”

Until a high-level meeting where Ji Wei, tasked with printing documents, lost the contract original, delaying the meeting and project progress.

“Strangely, instead of being fired, Ji Wei remained unscathed by Sheng’s side.”

This wasn’t something Wu Li, an assistant, could manage.

“It’s said a senior executive erupted, only to be restrained by Sheng.” Sheng Long not only spared Ji Wei but also shielded her, later purging several corrupt employees—everyone knew why.

Afterward, no one dared trip Ji Wei up. Sheng Long’s special attention became overt.

“While we ate at the cafeteria, Ji Wei dined in Sheng’s office daily, even napped there. Sometimes, when Ji Wei’s work dipped, her tasks were reassigned to us… truth be told, she had little work, just sat at her desk daydreaming, seemed like she was just there to enjoy herself.”

“By the way, Sheng often summoned Ji Wei to his office for hours on end. Sometimes she didn’t emerge for an entire afternoon. We tried discreetly probing—she’d claim they were ‘working.’”

“Ridiculous. What secretary discusses work for hours behind closed doors? Sometimes she’d emerge with sleep marks, half-asleep, clearly napped. Other times, her eyes were red. We’d offer comfort, and she’d say Sheng scolded her over work mistakes.”

“Pretending, much?”

“Since Ji Wei arrived at Guangtai, no one’s seen Sheng yell at her. She’s chauffeured, catered to with three meals a day—if she’d just admit to a romance, we could feast on the gossip… but this constant secrecy? When it’s this blatant, what could they possibly be hiding?”

Clearly, she’s kept as a girlfriend under the company’s watch.

This aligns with Wu Li’s claims.

Wu Li informed them that Ji Wei suffers from anxiety, long-term medication, psychological issues, frequent delusions and hospitalizations—all verified through her medical records.

He also stated that Sheng Long is Ji Wei’s boyfriend, deeply affectionate. Sheng arranged Ji Wei’s Huanmeng Jiayuan residence and holds shares in the real estate company that developed it.

Ji Wei, an innocent and fragile patient, cannot withstand stress or fright. Wu Li urges them not to disturb her.

After gathering this from employees, Ou Yang intended to leave Ji Wei be. As they prepared to return to the bureau, they spotted Ji Wei leaving the company.

Her complexion was pale, lashes heavy with fatigue, eyelids tinged bluish—a clear sign of sleep deprivation. Her condition seemed worse than in the morning.

Concerned for her safety, Ou Yang and her team decided to escort Ji Wei home and search the crime scene again. But before exiting the company grounds, a black luxury car halted before Ji Wei, its glaring headlights freezing her in place as she was hauled inside.

“Is this an abduction?” Zhao Liang recognized the car’s emblem—a costly model, unobscured license plate.

Regardless of abduction or not, they couldn’t let Ji Wei be taken by unknown individuals. As they moved to intervene, Ji Wei suddenly escaped the car. Oddly, the occupants made no move to chase her.

Subsequently, the team split up.

Ou Yang and Zhao Liang went to Huanmeng for surveillance, while Officer Wang intercepted the luxury car. It belonged to Sheng Long, and the “suspect” attempting to take Ji Wei was Sheng’s long-time driver, responsible for ferrying Ji Wei—a routine he continued that night.

The driver confessed, “Wu Li asked me to pick her up, said everything was arranged with Little Wei at the company gate. But when I arrived, she wasn’t there… I just got anxious. I’ve watched Little Wei grow up; why would I harm her?”

Later, Officer Wang stationed himself at the hospital, awaiting Sheng Long’s stabilization for questioning. Meanwhile, at Ou Yang’s insistence, Zhao Liang continued surveillance at Huanmeng, inadvertently discovering surveillance cameras in Ji Wei’s home, sparking new leads.

Ji Wei, deeply shaken, was escorted by a female officer to a rest room for calming.

Dressed in civilian clothes, Officer Wang entered, briefing Ou Yang on the hospital situation. Zhao Liang, picking up his phone, noticed a cracked screen—instead of irritation, he felt guilt; the case had advanced, but they’d inadvertently distressed Ji Wei.

“She came to us,” Zhao Liang mused, recalling Ji Wei’s incoherent description. He sensed Sheng Long was problematic.

Ou Yang shot him a glance, asking, “Wasn’t he supposed to be hospitalized for observation due to concussion?”

“Not by choice,” Wang said, tapping a cigarette he didn’t light. “He insisted on coming once he heard about Ji Wei.”

“Heard?” Zhao Liang seized the key point.

“Your late-night commotion at Huanmeng naturally escalated through property management,” Wang explained.

Zhao Liang snorted. “What did you get out of him at the hospital?”

“Nothing.” Wang nodded toward the interrogation room, where a pale man sat with eyes closed.

Privileged since youth, Sheng Long exuded calm even in confinement. His psychological resilience was evident—summed up in two words:

“Difficult.”

Wang added, “He demands to see Ji Wei before cooperating.”

Zhao scoffed. “Think this is his company? We’re not his staff.”

Wang coolly reminded them, “His lawyer’s here too.”

Ji Wei, a fragile patient now exacerbated by their actions, could land them in hot water if harmed.

After deliberation, Ou Yang Lin said, “He can see her through the glass.”

Wang conveyed the message, and Sheng Long agreed.

Through the louvers, Sheng Long observed Ji Wei, huddled on the sofa. Sleepless and bloodshot, she clutched a candy box, murmuring softly.

A female officer knelt nearby, soothing her with patient pats.

The room’s light filtered through the glass, dimmed by Sheng Long’s presence. He twirled a louver with slender fingers, his bandaged forehead and ashen face matching Ji Wei’s description of frailty.

But Ji Wei had mentioned… childhood?

Ou Yang, standing behind him, watched intently.

As shadows danced within the room, Sheng Long’s face alternated between light and dark. The red mole on his nose stood out yet harmonized with his features, not overpowering. This Sheng Long differed from the one in the hospital—where exactly, Ou Yang couldn’t yet tell.

After a silent observation, Sheng Long lowered his lashes and reproached calmly, “You’ve frightened her.”

Ou Yang conceded, “I apologize.”

Sheng Long faintly smiled, his pupils dark, not the blood-red Ji Wei described. “My apologies as well.”

He said, “Your apology is likely beyond my acceptance.”

Wu Li had warned them: Ji Wei is ill, handle with care.

Ou Yang silenced Zhao Liang’s retort and humbled herself. “I’ll take full responsibility for the consequences.”

“Captain Lin!!”

Ou Yang met Sheng Long’s gaze steadily. “Shall we return to the interrogation room now?”

.

**Interrogation Room.**

Zhao Liang retrieved the group photo, shoving the shattered screen toward Sheng Long. “Recognize this?”

Sheng Long’s eyes flickered—of course he recognized it.

After confirming the identity in the photo, Zhao pressed, “What’s your relationship?”

Sheng Long leaned back nonchalantly. “Didn’t Wu Li inform you?”

“You mean the ‘romantic’ angle?” Zhao grinned. “Ji Wei says otherwise. She accuses you of stalking. Care to explain?”

Sheng Long showed no surprise, no defense—seemed he’d heard it before, or perhaps already accepted this persona.

Gently tracing the bandage on his forehead, he simply stated: “She’s ill.”

A patient’s ramblings are forgivable, and his role was to tolerate.

“In your eyes, is Ji Wei merely a patient?” Ou Yang, who’d been silent, spoke up. “From what I gather, her colleagues, after years of interaction, never noticed her ‘illness.’ Meaning, Ji Wei isn’t perpetually symptomatic—most of the time, she’s lucid and engaging.”

Even in her delirium, fragments of her rants held verifiable truth.

“And you,” she turned to him, “labeling Ji Wei as ill, using her ‘sickness’ as a shield through your assistant to block us—what are you concealing?”

“Your assistant neglected to mention you’ve known Ji Wei since school days.”

Sheng Long remained ambiguous. “Is this relevant to my father’s case?”

So he still remembered Sheng Linrong’s case.

When they first approached him at the hospital with news of Sheng Linrong’s death, he’d feigned disbelief, then despair, even fainting. His physical and emotional collapse rendered him uncooperative, postponing the inquiry.

Now, appearing before them voluntarily, he wasn’t offering leads on his father’s death but advocating for Ji Wei.

Pale and morbid, he mirrored Ji Wei’s sharpness beneath a veneer of calm—a resemblance Ou Yang couldn’t ignore. Whether learned or innate, she realized—the Sheng Long they first met was an act.

The grief was feigned, the actions staged; perhaps only the injury was real.

Only this Sheng Long, sitting in the interrogation room, exuded an air of authenticity. Ou Yang’s intuition affirmed that this was his true nature—unpredictable, sardonic, aloof, with the arrogance of privilege.

“For now, no connection to your father’s case,” Ou Yang said evenly. “But regarding Ji Wei’s stalking and surveillance, you’re… involved.”

Sheng Long paused.

The surveillance cameras captured his fleeting expression. Ou Yang asked, “The hidden cameras in the house you gifted Ji Wei—are you aware of them?”

“Aware.”

The sealed room fell silent for a moment.

Sheng Long stirred his fingers, adding, “Some were my doing.”

Zhao Liang gripped his pen. “What about the others?”

“Not mine.”

“Then whose?”

Sheng Long glanced at the ceiling’s surveillance, replying, “One of them is already dead.”