029 Meeting Location

Four o’clock in the afternoon.

Sun Qifeng’s parents arrived at the precinct, exhausted from travel. With them came Sun Qifeng’s older sister, there to care for the elderly couple.

Han Bin greeted the old couple with concern, asking after their health. Though heartbroken, they seemed in fair physical condition, with no serious ailments. Only then did Han Bin lead the three to the morgue for the identification.

As the white sheet was lifted, the two elders collapsed over the body, wailing with grief. Han Bin wanted to offer comfort, but words failed him. With a sigh, he thought, It seems I’m better suited to investigating cases than consoling the bereaved.

An hour passed before Han Bin could finally escort the family from the morgue. Sun Qifeng’s mother sat in a chair, still sobbing into her hands. After an hour of weeping, Han Bin’s nerves were frayed.

He suggested that Sun’s mother rest in the lounge, then took the father and sister to his office for questioning.

No sooner had they sat down than Sun Qifeng’s sister blurted out, “Officer Han, how did my brother die?”

“He was strangled,” Han Bin replied.

“Who could be so cruel to do such a thing?” Sun Qifeng’s father’s fists clenched as his eyes reddened.

“Sun Qifeng was implicated in a robbery-homicide. We suspect he was killed by an accomplice,” Han Bin said.

“That’s impossible! Qifeng was an honest man—he would never do such a thing!” his sister exclaimed in disbelief.

“Officer Han, was my son framed? He couldn’t have committed a crime like that,” the father insisted.

“To uncover the truth, we must find his killer. Only then can we clear Sun Qifeng’s name,” Han Bin said.

“Officer Han, haven’t you caught the person who killed my son yet?” Sun’s father pressed.

“We have some leads. I’ve asked you here in hopes that you might provide more,” Han Bin replied.

“Officer Han, ask whatever you need. So long as we can find Qifeng’s murderer, we’ll do whatever we can to help,” the sister assured him.

Han Bin nodded. “Has Sun Qifeng shown any unusual behavior lately?”

“He was a devoted son. He’d call home every week. Just the other day, he said he was about to close a big deal. Once he made enough money, he wanted to rebuild our house so we could live comfortably in a new home… Who would have thought something like this would happen?” As Sun’s father spoke, he broke down again.

“Did he say what kind of business it was, or with whom he was working?” Han Bin pressed.

“He didn’t.”

“Do you know if Sun Qifeng had any close friends or acquaintances in this city?” Han Bin asked.

“There are a few fellow villagers living here, but I’m not sure how close they were,” the father replied.

“Among those villagers, is there a man around thirty-five years old, about six feet tall?”

“That… I can’t recall off the top of my head,” Sun’s father frowned.

“Dad, isn’t Liu Zhixin, the eldest son of the Liu family from the west end of the village, running a restaurant here?” the sister suggested.

“Yes, now that you mention it, Qifeng did talk about him,” the father recalled. “Qifeng said Liu Zhixin opened a restaurant near where he lived. He often went there to eat, and got a good discount.”

“What’s the name of the restaurant?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know its exact location?” Han Bin asked.

“No.”

“What type of restaurant is it?” Han Bin continued.

“It’s probably a noodle shop,” the father replied.

“I could call my husband and have him ask around the village,” the sister offered.

“That won’t be necessary for now. We don’t want to alert anyone. If we need to, I’ll let you know,” Han Bin said.

…

By the time Sun Qifeng’s family had left, it was past five o’clock.

Han Bin returned to the office to find Zeng Ping and the others gathered, apparently in the midst of a discussion.

“They’ve left?” Zeng Ping asked.

“Yes,” Han Bin replied, dropping heavily into a chair. “Captain Zeng, please assign someone else to accompany the family for identification next time. I’m more suited to investigating.”

Zeng Ping laughed, “If you don’t experience it yourself, how would you know the office work isn’t easy either?”

“Bin, did Sun Qifeng’s parents provide any leads?” Li Hui asked eagerly.

“According to his father, there’s a fellow villager named Liu Zhixin who matches our suspect’s description. He runs a noodle shop near Huilongguan. Sun Qifeng often ate there,” Han Bin said.

“What’s the name of the shop?”

“They didn’t know.”

“Did any of our leads tie back to a noodle shop?” Zeng Ping asked.

“I reviewed the surveillance footage from the days before the crime,” Tian Li said. “After work, Liu Zhixin would change into clean clothes and head to the street behind the complex, where there are a number of restaurants.”

“Do we know which one he went to?” Zeng Ping asked.

“It wasn’t visible on the footage.”

“Captain Zeng, I think Liu Zhixin is highly suspicious. We haven’t found any way Sun Qifeng contacted his accomplices—maybe that noodle shop is their meeting point,” Han Bin suggested.

Zeng Ping stood up and stretched. “Alright, everyone must be tired. Let’s take a break. Dinner’s on me.”

“Captain Zeng, it’s rare for you to treat,” Li Hui grinned.

“So, what’s for dinner? I’m starving,” Zhao Ming patted his stomach.

“Noodles, of course,” Zeng Ping replied.

…

Near Huilongguan Residential Complex.

A convenience street lined with shops stretched along both sides—fruit stands, vegetable vendors, butcher shops, restaurants, and more.

The five of them drove to the area. Zeng Ping drew his pistol, checked the rounds, and said, “Let’s play it by ear. Unless absolutely necessary, try not to use your weapons.”

They entered the convenience street and walked the length of it. There were three restaurants in total, but only one noodle shop.

A sign hung above the door: “Master Liu’s Noodle House.”

Zeng Ping pulled a cigarette from his pack, held it under his nose, and said, “Zhao Ming, check behind the noodle shop for a back door. If there is one, keep watch.”

“Tian Li, buy some fruit at the shop east of the noodle house.”

“Han Bin, go to the small shop west of the noodle house and buy a pack of cigarettes.”

“Li Hui, you’re with me inside for noodles.”

“Yes, sir,” the three responded.

Li Hui hesitated. “Captain Zeng, do we really have to eat his noodles?”

“Afraid?” Zeng Ping asked.

“Eat? I’ll eat! Who’s afraid?” Li Hui straightened up.

“We’re just having noodles, not heading to the execution ground,” Zeng Ping scolded with a laugh.

Han Bin grinned, patted Li Hui on the shoulder, and went into the small shop beside the noodle house.

Behind the counter stood a woman in her forties, watching a soap opera on the computer.

“A pack of cigarettes, please,” Han Bin said.

“Which kind?”

Han Bin pointed at one through the glass counter.

“That’ll be twenty,” the woman replied.

Han Bin paid, opened the pack, and asked, “Ma’am, may I ask you something?”