"Are you sure it was her you saw?"
When Officer He pressed the question again with sternness, the car repair shop owner finally nodded earnestly—his wife had arrived.
His house was close to the neighborhood gate, and from the balcony, his wife had spotted the police car parked outside the shop. Alarmed, she dropped her chores, changed her jacket, and hurried over. Though she didn't approach, her eyes frantically relayed worry, tension, and warnings to her husband from a distance: Don't speak carelessly. Don't stir trouble.
"Yes," the owner reaffirmed.
Truthfully, he couldn't be certain. But it felt right—a young, pretty woman on those dark nights, her face half-hidden. Besides, she had introduced herself. He'd even joked, "The surname Qi? First time I've heard that!"
It had to be her.
More importantly, if he admitted uncertainty, the police would hound him for answers. Not Qi Min? Then who was that woman? Why copy car keys? Did you even check if the car was hers?
Swallowing quietly, he straightened his posture, projecting confidence. He had nothing to fear. Even if the woman wasn't Qi Min, it wasn't his fault. He was just an honest businessman—taking payments, making keys, staying clear of scams. Whatever the case, it couldn't touch him.
"It was her. Tall, long hair, pretty—definitely her." He nodded repeatedly, his tone growing firmer. "Polite girl, came twice. Copied two keys—a Toyota and a Cadillac. Trusted my skills, paid the deposit right away. Must've heard about my shop from a friend. My reputation's solid…"
He spoke truthfully, unshaken—licking his lips, his forced smile returning.
"So she came twice: two months ago and half a month ago?" Officer He's gaze sliced through his facade. "Have you seen her recently?"
Qin Guan's heart leapt. If the owner confirmed Qi Min had visited in the past ten days, his troubles would vanish.
But the owner shook his head. "No. After the Cadillac key, I never saw her again. Not once."
Officer He finished his bun, chewing lazily as he paced the shop. He flicked the lights on and off, then stepped outside, squinting at the aged streetlamp by the bun shop—its yellowed glow feeble.
"Whether he saw her or not, you heard it! I wasn't lying—Qi Min secretly copied mine and Xu Ruyi's keys!" Qin Guan trailed Officer He, the scorching sun leaching the last moisture from his sleep-deprived body. Dizzy, agitated, and starving—he hadn't eaten breakfast. Desperate to reclaim normalcy, he pressed on: "The Toyota's mine. Her copying my key makes sense—we had… a relationship. She wanted to invade my life. But the Cadillac belongs to Xu Ruyi! Why would Qi Min copy her key? They weren't close! That proves they had hidden conflicts! You need to investigate them—especially Xu Ruyi! Don't be fooled by her act! Check their phones, their connections—"
Officer He cut him off bluntly, turning with a hardened stare. "If Qi Min secretly ordered those keys here… why did you come to pick them up?"
Ice water drenched Qin Guan. He froze.
After a torturous night of repeated interrogations, his clarity had dissolved into muddled chaos. Obsessed with using the key and Qi Min's phone to corner Xu Ruyi, he'd overlooked this fatal flaw: He had retrieved the key—using information from Qi Min's phone.
And that phone, since her "disappearance" at the lakeside villa, had been in his possession.
Sure enough, the shop owner confessed to the younger officer nearby: "I called Qi Min, but he answered. Then he came to pick it up. So I gave it to him."
Qin Guan gasped—he'd looped the evidence around his own neck.
"I can show the call logs! I kept calling her, but her phone was off. I thought she didn't want it anymore!" The owner unlocked his phone again. "So I had to text her, because…"
"The kid's gonna be late for school. Should I take him?" His wife suddenly interjected, glaring.
The owner swallowed his words.
What he'd meant to say was: Qi Min had acted… strangely.
The first time, for the Toyota key, she paid upfront, no phone number needed. A week later, she returned punctually—a straightforward customer.
The second time, for the Cadillac, things got odd. The owner had warned it would take two weeks. But four or five days ago—before Qin Guan showed up—he'd received her call from an unknown number.
"Hello, this is Qi Min from ** Law Firm. Remember me?"
He'd recognized her soft, gentle voice instantly.
"I ordered a Cadillac key. I need it earlier—urgently. Can you rush it?"
He'd agreed—the key was nearly done. But her instructions were bizarre:
"I'm in a hurry. Here's what we'll do: Call me when it's ready. If I don't answer, text reminders—multiple texts. I'm forgetful, and my assistant checks my messages sometimes. Please detail everything in the texts. Thank you!"