Kiwi Beyond the Cage 013

**Honeyed Blade (II)**

When Ou Yang Lin emerged from the basement, her entire back was drenched.

The chilling dampness from underground seemed to seep into her bones. Even back on the scorching, bright surface, warmth eluded her for a while.

*【Do you know when my birthday is?】* Ji Wei’s whisper in the hospital that night felt like last night.

In the dim, enclosed ward, Sheng Long cradling a cake in the shadows—recalling it now, the supposed warmth and depth were mere illusions. If “Happy Birthday” was a codeword for slaughter, then the gift’s recipient received not blessings, but a **curse**.

“What’s Ji Wei’s birthday?” Ou Yang Lin typed slowly.

Busy with Meng Qingde’s disappearance, she’d overlooked this glaring clue.

The reply came swiftly: July 14th.

How convenient. Sheng Linrong also met his end on July 14th, stabbed fifty-four times in the early hours.

Afterward, using surveillance leads from Sheng Long, the police tracked down Wu Fali and Meng Qingde. Post Sheng Long’s belated birthday celebration for Ji Wei, Wu Fali died gruesomely with gouged eyes, Meng Qingde vanished with Sheng Linrong’s will, leaving a suicide note…

Ou Yang’s initial decision to link the cases was right. She suspected the fourth stalker was the serial killer, intent on eliminating other surveillants, “avenging” Ji Wei with premeditation.

*Who could this person be?*

Ou Yang had her suspicions, but lacked evidence.

“Captain Lin, Captain Lin!” Officer Wang raised his voice. Upon her return, he frowned, “What were you thinking?”

Ou Yang massaged her aching temples. “I’ve got a crucial lead. Let’s discuss it back at the station… Did you find the item?”

“Destroyed,” Wang muttered, irritation lacing his words as he held a cigarette to his nose.

They’d obtained a copy of Sheng Linrong’s will from the lawyer. After days poring over the massive assets, only the safe’s mystery stood out, confirmed by the lawyer.

The letter Meng Qingde received wasn’t notarized, meaning only she knew its contents. But by reconstructing her movements, they deduced it tied to the safe in the Sheng family villa.

Before arriving at the villa, Meng Qingde’s route was transparent—no signs of evasion.

Once there, she accessed the safe, saw something, left a note, and vanished.

In the basement beneath the greenhouse lay Meng Qingde’s body, her blood-painted artwork, an old camera documenting her suicide, and clues reduced to ashes.

“She burned the will, the letter, and something else,” the forensic expert deduced from fragments, identifying at least three types of paper. As for the text, restoration was impossible.

“Captain Lin! New find!” A detective in the basement shouted.

Clad in a sealed protective suit, he extracted a black plastic card from beneath the paintings.

“This is…” Ou Yang took it, “a camera’s D-card?”

Linking it to Meng Qingde’s vintage camera, she felt a connection. “I’m heading back to the station.”

Ou Yang patted Wang’s shoulder. “You stay and monitor. Report any findings immediately.”

“Got it.”

The greenhouse was littered with shattered porcelain, deliberately destroyed.

Ou Yang noted no abnormalities inside, but on exiting, she spotted the damaged lock. “Check for fingerprints here too,” she instructed.

Meng Qingde was locked in the basement for six days. Whether by her own doing or not, she couldn’t have acted alone.

Someone must have been “helping” her.

*Drip—*

Just in the car, her phone buzzed: **【Arrived at hospital safely.】**

Thankfully, their medical team was on site. Though they couldn’t save Meng Qingde, Ji Wei was stabilized in time.

Ji Wei’s psychosis was alarmingly severe this time, with clear violent tendencies. Oddly, she only targeted Sheng Long. Had others not intervened, given Sheng Long’s unresisting stance, he might have welcomed death.

“Madman,” Ou Yang muttered. Years of experience couldn’t decipher Sheng Long’s motives.

Initially, she saw him as a meticulous young man, challenging to crack. Now, she sensed roaring waves beneath his calm—a duality much like in Meng Qingde’s paintings, contradictory and morally ambiguous.

**【Watch them.】** Ou Yang texted, reversing out of the lifeless, opulent manor.

Lucid Ji Wei clearly knew something, trying to signal them while holding back. Ou Yang had secretly recorded her delirious conversation with Sheng Long—evidence their relationship was far beyond romantic.

Back at the station that afternoon, news of Meng Qingde’s death reached the Meng family. Learning the will was destroyed, they cursed under their breaths and left, faces void of grief.

“These people…” the rookie officer sighed pityingly. “Her husband’s death is suspicious, her son’s indifferent, even her own parents treat her like trash. Being a wealthy socialite isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Indeed, pitiful.

Ou Yang, recalling the cold basement stocked with food, felt a premonition. When Meng Qingde buried young Sheng Long in the earth, some things were already predestined.

“Captain Lin? She just got back…” A call halted Ou Yang. “Don’t leave yet! Liang said they found a body in MU Bar’s restroom—it’s the Red Hair you wanted!”

Ou Yang froze.

MU Bar, full name Muic Undercurren, was a clandestine underground bar in the old district, nearly invisible. Zhao Liang’s extensive connections and willingness to spend were the only reasons they located it so quickly.

With the file Ou Yang provided, Zhao Liang tracked down Red Hair’s associate, Yellow Hair.

Yellow Hair revealed Red Hair had struck it rich recently, flaunting cash at MU, boasting drunkenly.

“What did he say exactly?”

Yellow Hair scratched his head, memory hazy from drink. “Something about a fool giving him boxes of cash for a small task, knowing he was in debt.”

“At first, he thought it was a scam, refused outright, but the guy just threw him a box of money, promised double on success. He said his eyes nearly popped out—he’d never seen so much cash in his life.”

“Did he do it?” Zhao Liang discreetly recorded.

“Wouldn’t be dumb not to,” Yellow Hair replied sourly. “No stealing, no robbing—hell, I’d do it too. No idea where his luck came from. Money just falls on him, even though he’s a jerk. You know he…”

Zhao Liang cut him off. “What help did he provide?”

“Oh, this is good.” Yellow Hair perked up. “Initially, the guy had kinky tastes, liked watching him in delivery uniforms, made him wait at home. Later, when we were plastered, he ranted about being kicked out of his own place…”

The real kicker came next. “Last night, he was blabbering again, said the guy’s a psychopathic killer, paid him to take the fall, shouting about skipping town tomorrow with the cash. Total bull, right?”

Cross-referencing Wu Fali’s case, it didn’t sound like bull.

“And then?”

“Nothing much. Probably still bragging at MU, claiming to be a killer, that the money’s from murder…”

It wasn’t impossible.

After all this hustle, Zhao Liang finally hit paydirt.

He infiltrated MU, aiming to find Red Hair and uncover solid leads. But after scouring the bar, he found no one. Red Hair’s companions were too drunk to know where he’d gone.

Had it not been for the bathroom’s howls, Zhao Liang would’ve thought Red Hair fled.

“Still a step too late,” Zhao Liang lamented.

A drunk patron first spotted Red Hair in the men’s restroom.

In MU’s last stall, a perpetually broken toilet leaked water like a stream.

The drunkard, as usual, stumbled in, only to find the stall occupied.

Legs splayed, someone was face-down in the waterlogged toilet. Wobbling closer, he spotted the floating red hair, resembling cheap red wine diluted with water. Still clueless, he laughed, “Dude, there’s plenty of booze outside. Need to chug from a toilet?”

He even called friends over for a laugh, reaching for his phone to snap a pic. Soberer friends sensed something off. One patted Red Hair’s shoulder, and the body slid out—revealing a face that froze them.

“Ghost—!” The drunkard wailed, collapsing and scrambling out.

Others in the restroom rushed over, howling at the mangled corpse. By the time Zhao Liang arrived, the scene was ruined—the body moved multiple times, the stall littered with muddy footprints.

“No surveillance,” Zhao Liang fumed. “This bar’s cameras are a joke!”

Red Hair drowned, blood alcohol levels indicating extreme intoxication. Minimal struggle marks suggested a quick death between 5:00 and 7:00 AM. Zhao Liang arrived at 4:00 PM, dejected. “I was too slow…”

Had he been faster, Red Hair might still be alive.

“5:00 to 7:00…” Ou Yang sent a message: **【Check Sheng Long’s whereabouts from 4:00 to 8:00.】**

After hearing the recording, she regretted, “He was likely the only one who saw the killer.”

Precisely why Red Hair was silenced.

This was Zhao Liang’s first major case. He’d anticipated a complex billionaire vendetta, not a serial killer. Most terrifying was their utter ignorance about the murderer.

“Another dead end…” Zhao Liang doubted his suitability for the job, unworthy of his police academy honors.

“Not necessarily,” Ou Yang and the forensic expert said in unison.

Ou Yang thought of the two videos and card from the camera, while the forensic expert held up Red Hair’s long-nailed hand—possible scratches on the killer.

Residual skin tissue would reveal the suspect’s true identity.