The other party spoke ambiguously, and in the background, there was the piercing scream of someone resisting. He Chuan Zhou hung up the phone and, without a word, headed downstairs.
Before seeing anyone, she could already hear the commotion. She followed the sound and saw a middle-aged woman lying on her side on the ground. A police officer nearby tried to help her up, but she slapped his hand away and struggled violently, rolling around on the floor, refusing to let anyone approach her.
The young officer, at a loss, jumped up in relief when he saw He Chuan Zhou approaching, as if seeing a savior, and shouted, "Captain He! You're here!"
He Chuan Zhou slowed her steps and asked, "What's going on?"
She reached out a hand to the woman, but she dodged it. So, she simply crouched half a meter away and gently asked her, "Is there anything I can help you with?"
The woman raised her head and glanced at her, speaking in a mix of dialect and Mandarin, "Are you the one in charge?"
He Chuan Zhou smiled and said, "I guess you could say I'm in charge."
A colleague hurriedly introduced, "This is our precinct’s leader in charge of major and homicide cases. Captain He! She's the one who can handle your case!"
The middle-aged woman wore a black floral shirt, with the top button undone during the scuffle. Her hair, once tied loosely with a worn-out elastic band, now hung messily over her shoulders.
She didn't care about her disheveled appearance as she scrutinized He Chuan Zhou with distrust. Pointing to the air, she accused, "I went to the police station, and they told me to come here to the Public Security Bureau. I can't tell the difference between the two. Don't push me around anymore. You have the authority here, so handle my case."
He Chuan Zhou didn't show any impatience or annoyance, nor did she ask his colleagues about the situation. Instead, she kindly asked the woman, "Auntie, where are you from?"
The woman remained cautious, but feeling uncomfortable from craning her neck, she used all four limbs to turn to face her and, changing her position, said, "From the countryside."
"I figured that," He Chuan Zhou didn't probe too deeply, "What’s the problem? Tell me."
The woman hesitated for a moment, thinking before saying, "My daughter is missing."
"Missing?" The word made He Chuan Zhou uneasy. "How long has she been missing?"
The woman, looking troubled, replied, "It’s probably been a few years."
"Only reporting it now?" He Chuan Zhou adjusted her collar and asked, "The police will investigate it. Is there a problem? Or is it that your daughter isn't missing but just doesn't want to see you?"
The woman quickly shook her head, "No, she's really been missing for a long time."
He Chuan Zhou grew more serious, raising an eyebrow, "Which county are you from? Didn't the local police station or precinct help you?"
"It's no use," the woman propped herself up on one elbow, perhaps believing He Chuan Zhou could help. She instinctively moved closer and said anxiously, "They couldn't find anything. I think my daughter is already dead. They said it takes four years before she's officially declared dead. What does that mean? Are they just waiting for her to die during those four years? She’s been missing for almost three years. Will they investigate after she’s declared dead?"
As the woman began speaking faster, her dialect-influenced Mandarin became harder to understand.
He Chuan Zhou called for her colleague to summon Brother Huang, the precinct’s dialect expert. Another officer interjected, "She's here because of... Shen Wenzheng!"
The woman sat up in a hurry, waving her hands to prove herself to He Chuan Zhou, "I'm not after money. I just remembered! I only want to find my daughter, not because of any amount of money!"
He Chuan Zhou nodded, patting her on the shoulder to calm her down, "What did you remember?"
The woman pulled out a gold-colored smartphone and pointed at it, saying, "I remembered seeing a picture of that... that Shen... Shen Wenzi on my daughter's phone."
Seeing that He Chuan Zhou wanted to take it, she quickly held it back and said, "Not on this phone."
He Chuan Zhou’s hand paused midair, asking, "Are you sure it was Shen Wenzheng?"
Without much thought, the woman hesitated, replying timidly, "It looked like him."
"This won't do," He Chuan Zhou said. "Do you remember when you saw the photo? What was the person in the picture wearing? When was it taken? What was their relationship? Why was the photo taken?"
The woman couldn’t answer any of these questions, avoiding eye contact after a long, silent gaze.
A colleague helplessly shrugged toward He Chuan Zhou, indicating they had no solution either.
Another round of drama was about to begin.
Brother Huang arrived after being called, jogging downstairs and shouting from afar, "Where's the off-site assistance needed?"
He Chuan Zhou beckoned him over.
The woman saw that Brother Huang was a bit older and a man, perhaps finding him more trustworthy, and immediately grabbed his hand as soon as he arrived.
Brother Huang, used to such situations, shook her hand with both of his and joked with a smile, "No need to be so excited. I listen to her. She outranks me. I take her orders. Right, boss?"
The woman was momentarily stunned and looked at He Chuan Zhou, surprised.
Once again, He Chuan Zhou extended a hand to help her up. After a moment of hesitation, the woman finally stood up with them.
They walked over to a nearby wall and sat on the empty chairs.
He Chuan Zhou asked, "Do you have a picture of your daughter?"
The woman took out a photo from her small crossbody bag, holding it at the edges with a nervous reverence, adjusting it before handing it to He Chuan Zhou.
In the photo was a girl with a long ponytail, wearing a blue and white striped T-shirt, standing at the entrance of a high school, flashing the common peace sign at the camera.
The middle of the photo had already faded, making the girl's face a bit blurry, but it was still clear that she was a quiet, gentle-looking young girl.
"She must’ve been in her teens," He Chuan Zhou said, looking at the photo from different angles before handing it to Brother Huang. "This picture is quite old, already faded. Didn’t you say your daughter has been missing for less than four years?"
"This was taken when she graduated high school, about eight or nine years ago," the woman said, her eyes fixed on the photo, pointing to it. "She doesn’t like taking pictures. But after she grew up, without makeup, this is the only photo I have."
"Do you have any photos of her with makeup?" He Chuan Zhou asked. "I need something recent."
The woman said, "Yes," and fumbled with her phone for a while before finding a picture in the gallery.
"This is when she came home to see me, and I secretly took this photo," the woman nervously explained, "She might wear heavier makeup, but she’s still an honest person. She would never do anything improper. Don't misunderstand."
Brother Huang, wanting to comment on her obviously biased logic, decided to stay silent when he saw her panicked expression.
Luckily, Xu Yu wasn’t around, or they’d be treated to another long complaint, along with a demand for a big meal afterward.
He Chuan Zhou placed the phone between them, tilted the phone, and zoomed in to inspect the details.
The girl in the photo sat on a rattan chair by the window, looking down at her phone. Her makeup leaned towards a mature style, though it wasn’t as exaggerated as the woman described, just a darker lipstick and brighter eyeshadow, still within the range of an everyday look.
The woman added, "After graduating high school, she went to work out of town and would come back every few months to see me and bring some money. As time passed, she changed, becoming more like this, dressed up, with heavier makeup. She said it was because everyone in the city does this. People in the village spread rumors that she was selling herself. I cursed those people! My daughter is so well-behaved, how could she ever do such a thing? Because of their slander, my daughter started coming home less and less! I don’t even know when she disappeared!"
He Chuan Zhou listened intently while simultaneously zooming in on the photo, examining it for a long time. There was something familiar about the girl's features, but she couldn’t quite place it.
She turned her head to look at Brother Huang, who was also lost in thought, his gaze wandering as he searched his memory.
The woman’s narration was disjointed, jumping from one thought to another. Just as she began to recount her daughter’s childhood, He Chuan Zhou interrupted, "Tell me about Shen Wenzheng first."
The woman paused, thinking for a moment before organizing her words. "At that time, my daughter came home during her break. She was playing on her phone, and I went to bring her some fruit. I stood behind her and saw it, it was a photo sent to her by someone. She was leaning on that man, and he had his arm around her shoulder, their faces almost touching. When she noticed me, she quickly turned off her phone. I asked her who that man was, and she said it was her boss. I told her that a boss shouldn’t be like that, and asked if he was harassing her. She said no, and that she was about to quit anyway. When I pressed further, she got angry."
The woman moved closer to He Chuan Zhou and grabbed her sleeve. "At the time, I didn’t know who that person was. A few days ago, the news was all over the place, and some folks at the village gate showed me a picture of Shen. As soon as I saw it, I thought it looked just like him!"
He Chuan Zhou responded, "So, you’re not entirely sure it was Shen Wenzheng, are you?"
"It looked so much like him!" she insisted, growing more agitated. "I swear, it really looked just like him!"
He Chuan Zhou suspected that her quick glance might not have left such a deep impression. After all, her daughter had been missing for three years, and with no leads, she might subconsciously be clinging to the hope that Shen Wenzheng’s case could provide some answers. That desperation likely fueled her insistence on this connection.
But maybe her persistence had some merit.
"I remember where I’ve seen this girl's photo before." He Chuan Zhou pressed down on Brother Huang's hand, stopping him from further scrolling through the phone. Her face grew serious, her eyes sharp, and he said, slowly and deliberately, "Zhu Shujun , Jiang Jingcheng's former colleague."
The woman nodded vigorously. "Yes, Zhu Shujun! She used to be called 'Shunu,' but the village teacher said it sounded awful, so they changed a character."
Her difficulty pronouncing "sh" and "j" sounds explained why neither He Chuan Zhou nor Brother Huang had understood her earlier, thinking she was saying something like "Zeng."
Brother Huang suddenly understood, slapping his thigh in realization.
"Jiang Jingcheng committed suicide in December of 2015. At that time, the police wanted to question Zhu Shujun, but she had already disappeared. So she hasn’t been missing for nearly three years, it's been almost three and a half years!"
Both He Chuan Zhou and Brother Huang turned to look at the woman. Startled by their intensity, she shrank back, her lips quivering as she murmured, "I... I didn’t know..."