Margin for Error

The early morning office of the Major Crimes Unit was occupied only by Liu Huisheng and Zhao Yu. Yet, they were two people as thin as sheets of paper—clinging tightly to each other in the vast room under the bright, glaring lights.

“What did you just call me?” Like a meteor streaking across her eyes, Liu Huisheng gazed intently at her, pressing for an answer.

Zhao Yu urgently pursed her lips, biting down on her back teeth in stubborn silence. After a tense standoff lasting several seconds, she finally spoke: “I’ll help you over there.”

“Hiss,” Liu Huisheng winced, drawing in a sharp breath of air. “Can’t walk.”

Left with no alternative, Zhao Yu had to scoop her up in a bridal carry, walking over to Liu Huisheng’s workstation and gently lowering her onto the rolling office chair. But as she tried to let go, Liu Huisheng’s hands, which were draped over the back of her neck, refused to loosen their grip.

Zhao Yu’s movement to straighten up froze. She didn’t force her way up. Her thick eyelashes trembled faintly, and a sudden tremor shook the very core of her heart.

Such intimate, close proximity completely stripped away one’s capacity for rational thought. Liu Huisheng simply stared at Zhao Yu during this brief, suspended slice of time. The passing years had left no visible marks on Zhao Yu’s face; only her demeanor had shifted—no longer green or innocent, but carrying a heavy, grounded composure accumulated over time.

Liu Huisheng felt a desperate urge to caress this cold countenance, to run her thumb over those soft eyelids, and to feel the familiar, breathless fluttering of eyelashes against her skin during a gentle kiss.

But the current Zhao Yu probably despised her, didn’t she?

Just as Fang Qing and Wei Jing could no longer bring themselves to face one another, the eight years of separation between them meant they were fated never to touch each other with such intimacy again.

“Don’t you think the margin for error in this world is incredibly low?” Liu Huisheng murmured. “Two people can be deeply in love, holding hands and making promises beneath the moon. Yet, because of a mere millimeter of a misstep, they end up completely missing each other for the rest of their lives.”

The hand resting on Liu Huisheng’s waist tightened slightly. The thin fabric of their clothing easily transmitted that subtle, unspeakable physical reaction to one another, leaving both women utterly at a loss for what to do.

Clack, clack, clack…

While they remained deadlocked, the sharp click of leather shoes suddenly echoed from outside the door. Chen Doudou had returned after processing Fang Qing’s bail paperwork.

“Sister Sheng, Captain Zhao? Are you two done with the questioning?”

The split second before she crossed the threshold, Zhao Yu swiftly stood up, walking over to the water dispenser and pretending to be busy filling a cup. “Yes, we’re finished.”

“How is it? Did she kill him?”

“We can’t confirm it just yet.”

“Ah…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I just really hope she isn’t the killer. Miss Fang left her phone number with me just now, specifically saying that if anything happens to Wei Jing, I must notify her immediately. If she really did it, won’t Miss Fang have to wait for her all over again?”

The hand Zhao Yu used to draw water froze instantly. She pressed the switch to halt the flow, her tone turning remarkably heavy: “If she really did commit the murder, she no longer has the right to stand beside Fang Qing.”

Chen Doudou was young, after all, and her heart was highly sentimental: “I just think it’s such a terrible pity…”

Liu Huisheng patted her shoulder, offering a gentle explanation: “Even if she didn’t kill Guo Chong’an, the odds of her ending up with Fang Qing are incredibly slim.”

“Why?”

“You forgot—she has a criminal record.”

“Does it have something to do with Fang Qing?”

“I’ll organize her statement in a bit and let you read it. Eight years ago, she committed manslaughter by killing the kidnapper who held Fang Qing captive. Ever since that incident, an unbridgeable chasm opened up between them. From Fang Qing’s perspective, it was her own kidnapping that completely ruined Wei Jing’s life. As for Wei Jing, she was originally an orphan taken in by the Wei family, and Fang Qing was likely the sole ray of light in the first half of her life. The gap in their social status was already vast; now, burdened with the label of a convicted killer, she will only sink deeper into self-deprecation.”

“Ah…” Chen Doudou instantly deflated like a punctured balloon. “But even as an outsider, I can clearly tell how deeply they love each other.”

The corners of Liu Huisheng’s lips curved into a self-mocking arc: “Loving someone and being with them are two completely different things.”

Though Chen Doudou wasn’t an expert in micro-expression analysis, she could tell that Liu Huisheng’s smile tasted exceptionally bitter. Thus, she asked: “Sister Sheng, did you also once love someone deeply but fail to end up with them?”

In this entire world, Chen Doudou was probably the only person who would dare to ask such a blunt question right to the faces of the parties involved.

But this was Liu Huisheng—the Liu Huisheng who, even if sentenced to death, would walk up to the gallows with aloof, unbroken elegance.

Her beautiful eyes curved into a fine crescent: “There are actually plenty of people who love me. Care to join the queue?”

Chen Doudou immediately chimed in: “Sure! Everyone loves a gorgeous woman, what’s one more? Hehehe!”

If the Major Crimes Unit was typically defined by an atmosphere of gravity, solemnity, and tension, then Chen Doudou was the relaxed, pure, and soothing catalyst that balanced it all out. The exhausting fatigue built up from pulling an all-night shift vanished in an instant as they booted up their computers to process all the written records for the current case.

At 9:00 AM, the Major Crimes Unit convened to discuss the Guo Chong’an homicide case. After Liu Huisheng laid out all the evidence and existing leads, Zhao Yu opened the floor for everyone to share their insights and brainstorm.

Qin Song was the first to stand up: “If you ask me, this Wei Jing is highly suspicious. She possesses an intensely powerful protective streak toward Fang Qing, and she already has a prior record. Upon her release, she discovers that Guo Chong’an has been tormenting Fang Qing. It’s highly probable she fell back into old habits and slaughtered the guy right on his wedding day.”

Xiao Fei was the second to voice his thoughts: “I think it’s possible too. Precisely because she looks frail and scholarly, the deceased would have been completely off his guard around her. Furthermore, after committing the murder, she could have slipped back into the main hall, mingled with the crowd, and then pretended to faint when the body was discovered to establish an alibi.”

Chen Doudou disagreed: “I think the deceased’s younger brother is also a suspect. It’s highly possible he’s playing the part of a ‘Mr. Nice Guy’—that’s exactly the vibe Guo Chongliang gives off. Besides, according to Detective Conan, the person who looks the least like the culprit is usually the most likely one.”

Han Bing shook his head: “I think the deceased’s assistant holds the highest suspicion. He was heavily subjected to psychological manipulation to the point of mental instability, forced to watch the man he loved marry someone else and plan a family. He must have been consumed by a volatile mix of love and hatred for the deceased. On top of that, he wanted to resign, but the deceased not only refused but turned around to blackmail him. Driven over the edge, he killed him, and later, unable to cope with the guilt, he threw himself into the river to commit suicide to evade punishment.”

Brother Zhong suggested: “Or perhaps the deceased had several other male lovers aside from his assistant. Even if it isn’t Xie Jia, could those other lovers provide some breakthrough leads?”

************************************************************************

Before long, every single person involved had become an object of suspicion, yet they were plagued by a severe lack of hard evidence, leaving the investigation at a frustrating standstill.

Liu Huisheng slouched limply in her rolling chair, her face turned toward the ceiling. She felt an overwhelming sensation that she had missed a vital puzzle piece, yet she couldn’t summon it to the surface—like taking a bite of a cake only to realize it was a donut, leaving a glaring, empty void right in the center.

Having worked for an extended period, the written statements of the deceased’s relatives flashed continuously across her mind. Her consciousness felt violently seized by a demon lurking in the deep recesses of her thoughts, her hands blindly groping until they wrapped around a razor-sharp dagger—

“Ah!”

The exact millisecond the blade pierced the target, Liu Huisheng shrieked out loud. Her body jolted upright like it had been hit by an electric shock, her chest heaving violently as she gasped for air.

“Sister Sheng, what’s wrong?”

“Huisheng, are you alright? Is it just extreme exhaustion?”

“You spent the whole night processing records. Your face is deathly pale, why don’t you head back and rest for a bit?”

Liu Huisheng sat frozen in her chair, looking entirely soul-shattered. Every drop of color had drained from her face; her mouth hung slightly open and her eyes were wide with shock. It took several seconds of dazed staring into a blank, blurry field of vision before the concerned faces of her colleagues came into sharp focus.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Her heart hammered against her ribcage with explosive intensity. The bloody, visceral imagery that had been right before her eyes a moment ago vanished into thin air. Forcing her breathing to steady, she managed to squeeze out a strained smile: “I’m fine.”

Zhao Yu observed the entire sequence. Clearing her throat, she systematically reassigned the workload:

“As it stands now, we have an abundance of leads. The deceased was embroiled in romantic entanglements with multiple parties, which appears to be the primary catalyst for his murder. Since we’ve made headway in this direction, we will continue to dig deeper. We’ll divide into our usual four tactical teams. Old Qin’s team will continue investigating Wei Jing; Han Bing will look into Fang Qing; Brother Zhong will dig into Xie Jia and the deceased’s other lovers. Liu Huisheng, you come with me to the deceased’s residence. We need to take another detailed statement from his parents and his younger brother.”

“Understood!”

“Received!”

“On it right now!”

The team quickly scattered to execute their tasks, and the office instantly plunged back into serene quiet.

The black Changan vehicle drove down the road with exceptional discretion. Liu Huisheng kept her eyes open the entire way, a distinct bloodshot streak cutting across her iris—she clearly had zero intention of sleeping.

Zhao Yu kept her foot light on the accelerator, keeping the ride so steady it felt like sitting at home. Her index finger tapped against the steering wheel a few times, breaking the heavy silence of their solitude: “Who do you currently suspect the most?”

Liu Huisheng rested her head against her hand, her eyes staring straight ahead at the road. Her voice carried a palpable layer of fatigue: “Is Captain Zhao running out of investigative leads, coming to me to fish for inspiration?”

“Merely exchanging notes, nothing more.”

“Then who do you suspect?”

“Initially, I suspected Xie Jia. But you mentioned that individuals subjected to such intense manipulation view themselves entirely as slaves, so I revoked that suspicion. What about you? Who do you think it is?”

“Guo Chongliang.”

“His younger brother?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He carries a distinct criminal aura about him.”

“According to your logic, he didn’t exactly master his actual major during his time in Tokyo, but instead successfully brought back the theatrical murder methods seen in Japanese anime.”

“He went to Tokyo for university?”

“If I remember correctly, I believe he went there for his postgraduate studies.”

“At the University of Tokyo?”

“It should be.”

The flat asphalt road flowed with the orderly, bustling traffic of a regular weekday. Suddenly, the screech of slamming brakes pierced right through their eardrums.

Screeech—

The low-profile private car pulled over and braked aggressively by the roadside.

Inside the vehicle, the two women in the front seats locked eyes, having finally discovered the exact substance needed to fill the empty void in the center of the donut.

“If I remember correctly… he was also from the University of Tokyo, wasn’t he?”