Chapter Five: A Family of Trouble

As soon as Yan Xue heard there was a case, she didn’t dare to waste a moment and hurriedly got up to prepare for departure. Fortunately, after all these years, she was long accustomed to this rhythm of life, so her movements were swift—she quickly changed her clothes, went downstairs in brisk strides, and before long, Kang Ge had arrived at the gate.

Yan Xue got into the car, and as usual, Kang Ge pointed to the glove compartment. “No time for coffee today—I brought you a box of milk.”

With that, he started the engine as soon as Yan Xue fastened her seatbelt, racing toward the scene of the incident.

When Yan Xue set out, she had been mulling over the previous day’s conversation. They’d spoken frankly, communication was unusually smooth, but she wondered if things might feel slightly different when they met again today—perhaps a little awkwardness would creep in. Yet, it turned out her concerns were unnecessary; Kang Ge’s demeanor was as natural and forthright as ever, and it helped her relax too.

Halfway through their drive, daylight broke. Yan Xue gazed at the cityscape outside the window and suddenly realized their destination. “Are we heading to that king-of-towers complex in the city center?”

“That’s right. The crime scene is over there,” Kang Ge nodded. “I’ve heard it’s quite the spectacle, but what kind of ‘big’ exactly, I’m not sure yet. We’ll find out soon enough.”

Well, yesterday it was Kang Ge’s own neighborhood; today, it was the famed luxury apartment complex in the heart of the city. Yan Xue felt as if her weekend had somehow become entangled with grand, extravagant residences.

Their destination was arguably the most prestigious development in W City. While other developers were busy buying up suburban land for villa clusters, one enterprising company focused instead on a bustling, well-connected city location, using a relatively modest parcel to build a high-end residential area with only large apartments.

The complex had just a handful of buildings, vast green spaces, and comprehensive amenities, creating a tranquil haven amid the urban hustle. It was said that even the smallest units exceeded two hundred square meters, though Yan Xue had no idea how large the biggest ones were—such properties had nothing to do with her.

When this development first launched, many believed it would be a failure, an unsellable project. Yet, unexpectedly, it became a sensation, attracting buyers with considerable financial means who didn’t want to retreat to the cold, empty suburbs for a villa. They preferred to pay as much—or more—for these high-rise dwellings, enjoying convenient transport and lively surroundings, saving precious time.

For a while, everyone in W City knew this complex boasted more wealthy residents than any suburban villa cluster. After all, at that time, the occupancy rates in those villa districts were dismal, whereas this place had barely any empty units.

Of course, nothing stays in bloom forever. With time, urban expansion, and improved infrastructure, the city’s affluent began yearning for the peace and fresh air of the distant suburbs. The once-crowned king-of-towers now had many vacant properties, though their large sizes made them hard to sell, and the owners weren’t particularly eager to cash out. Thus, despite falling occupancy, the roster of owners remained largely unchanged.

When Kang Ge’s car stopped at a red light at a crossroads, Yan Xue peered through the window at their destination in the distance, puzzled. Normally, a high-end residential area like this would have tight security; strict access control and extensive surveillance cameras would make serious crimes relatively rare.

Especially since Kang Ge had described this case as a “big scene.”

With these musings, they arrived at the complex. Knowing there’d been a homicide, the security guards, after checking Kang Ge’s credentials, quickly let them through without delay. Entering the gate was easy, but getting the car anywhere near the building was another matter entirely—the separation of pedestrians and vehicles was so thorough that no road led directly to the crime scene.

Kang Ge parked by the roadside, still some distance from the building, and the two of them walked toward the entrance.

As they walked, Yan Xue pondered how pushing anything to the extreme inevitably exposes flaws elsewhere. The strict separation of cars and pedestrians was great for the environment and safety, but if cars couldn’t get close to the buildings, it was simply excessive!

It didn’t matter much for them—they could walk from the gate—but what if there was a fire or a medical emergency? How would ambulances manage? Perhaps they could still drive in, just not up close, but fire trucks would be hopeless—the internal roads were too narrow, and the underground garage had height restrictions. If a fire broke out, there’d be nothing anyone could do but watch.

Given the large apartment layouts, each floor had only one unit per elevator. Downstairs, they bumped into Qi Tianhua, learning the crime scene was on the top floor—a nearly three-hundred-square-meter penthouse.

“When you said the scene was big, did you mean the area?” Yan Xue asked as they rode the elevator up.

Qi Tianhua forced a smile and shook his head. “The area is substantial, but it’s the scene itself—well, you’ll see. Forensic work won’t be easy, and we’ll be busy for quite a while.”

The elevator was fast; soon they reached the top. With only one unit per floor, the entrance space was broad, and the double doors were far grander than ordinary apartments.

One door was ajar, the other wide open. Standing at the threshold, they could see inside at a glance.

Just one look at the entryway and the adjoining living room made the chaos clear—trash strewn everywhere, empty bottles and cans scattered about, and even the air carried an unpleasant whiff of vomit.

“What happened here?” Yan Xue exclaimed in astonishment. “From the door, in such a huge apartment, there seems barely a spot to step inside without disturbing the mess!”

“You’re exactly right.” Qi Tianhua gestured inside. “The caller said the interior’s even worse. What you see at the entrance is actually clean compared to the rest! That’s why we have to wait. I’ve just confirmed—the forensic team is arriving soon. Crime scene techs will examine the place first, then we’ll go in.”

“Who reported the case?” Kang Ge asked.

“The building’s cleaner—a man in his sixties. He was making his rounds this morning, collecting trash and cleaning each floor, when he found this apartment’s door open with a wide gap. Peering in, he saw the chaos and thought it had been burglarized. He knocked for ages with no answer, assumed it was a long-unoccupied unit, and called the police. When the station officers arrived and entered, they found a dead person in the bedroom.”

“Have you been to the property management office yet?” Kang Ge, hearing about the caller, knew there was little point in further questioning him, so he asked about the next most urgent task.

Qi Tianhua shook his head. “Not yet. I live closest, so I was the first here, staying to secure the scene.”

“Then wait here for the others. We’ll go to the management office to check the surveillance footage,” Kang Ge decided. “Judging by the cleanliness of the stairwell and elevator, the cleaner must come by at least once a day, maybe even more often, so if he discovered this situation this morning, the incident likely happened no earlier than yesterday morning.

There are many empty bottles and cans inside—almost certainly a party took place. The key timeframe we need to focus on is yesterday afternoon to early this morning, so we won’t waste much time. We’ll copy the surveillance footage and, by the time we return, the scene should be ready for us.”

“If you’re done with the footage and the forensic team has finished too, that would be the best-case scenario,” Qi Tianhua sighed. “The cleaner said some spots inside are so cluttered there’s nowhere to even step.”

Kang Ge patted him on the shoulder, asked for the location of the property office, and, together with Yan Xue, took the elevator down. After several twists and turns, they found the office and explained the situation to the staff, who were naturally very cooperative—and seemingly not at all surprised about which unit was involved.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but honestly, it’s not the least bit surprising trouble happened in that household,” the duty manager said, helping them retrieve the surveillance footage, his face creased with worry. “Our owners are hard to please, but others at least pursue quality of life and high standards. Serving them is our job, nothing to complain about.

But this family is different—they’re always causing us headaches and stirring up trouble for others! Nearly every few days, other residents call to complain that they keep bringing strangers home—no idea who they are—and the noise is awful, disturbing everyone’s rest.

We always try to contact someone from the family, remind them to be considerate, but the young woman never answers her phone. We have to call her parents, but they’re always out of town, and their attitude is terrible. If we remind them, they just say they paid for the property and can live however they want. They don’t meddle in others’ business, and nobody else should interfere with theirs.”

Though most of this was venting, Yan Xue and Kang Ge gleaned an important detail—the penthouse was usually occupied by a young woman living alone, with her parents away and rarely returning.

“They often have lively gatherings? Isn’t access here supposed to be strictly managed?” Yan Xue asked.

The manager sighed. “As I said, the owners paid for the property; how they use it is their freedom. If they want to bring guests, as long as they’re registered and the owner signs, we can’t stop them. We have no right to forbid their friends from visiting.”

“How often do they bring people over? What kind of guests? Why so many complaints from neighbors?” Kang Ge, waiting for the manager to retrieve the previous day’s footage, pressed further.

“Hard to say—sometimes every few days, other times she doesn’t even leave the apartment for ages, and we don’t see her at all. If it weren’t for delivery drivers signing in for their unit, we’d think it was empty!

The people she brings—we can’t really tell what type. All sorts, but mostly young, rarely anyone old. Most are in their twenties or thirties. Maybe she just has a wide social circle.”

Soon, they found the surveillance footage for the building. According to the manager, there were fifteen units per block, but about half were vacant—some owners had bought new homes elsewhere, others had emigrated or moved abroad, rarely returning.

This meant a useful advantage—fewer residents, less elevator traffic. To be thorough, they played the footage back at high speed, starting earlier to ensure nothing slipped by.

The elevator surveillance sped forward; at around three o’clock the previous afternoon, after a long lull, the elevator finally moved to the top floor. The doors opened, and a young woman, seemingly in her early twenties, appeared on screen.

“There—she’s the one from that family,” the manager said with a hint of exasperation, pointing at the screen. He seemed irritated simply by the sight of her.