The commotion outside reached Qin Guan's ears.
He fell silent, ears perked up.
They were talking about Xu Ruyi. They'd mentioned a young woman.
Last afternoon?
"It was just last afternoon," the old woman replied in clumsy Mandarin. "You weren't at the shop—you'd gone to pick up Xiao Bao. I was watching the shop for you. She said she was coming to get something. I figured she'd need time to arrive, so I told her to come. But she never showed. She just called again, refused to talk to me, insisted on speaking to the boss!"
Someone had gone to retrieve car keys?
Qin Guan latched onto this lifeline like a drowning man.
"Wait! Which day—?"
He swallowed hard, shouting desperately toward the door, "Hey, out there! Speak up! Did someone come to pick up car keys? Last afternoon? Which day? Please, think carefully!"
His heart threatened to leap from his throat. He stared pleadingly at the two officers in the room. "Open the door, please! Did you hear that? Did you hear? She went to the repair shop!"
Lao He shoved the door open.
"She called you last afternoon? Which day? Which day?"
Qin Guan straightened, craning his neck to see the plump old woman outside. His voice trembled, a mix of desperation and hope—instinct told him this might be his only chance to turn the tide.
The old woman froze under Qin Guan's frantic gaze, then relaxed at Lao He's encouraging nod. "It… it was a few days ago. Friday, maybe? I remember Da Bao had English class. Yingzi took him, and Yu Lai went to fetch Xiao Bao…"
"Friday!" the repair shop owner confirmed decisively. "If it was Friday, that was the afternoon before you came to pick up the keys!"
Qin Guan's heart soared from the depths of hell to dizzying heights—as if lifted by a cleansing breeze.
He laughed wildly, triumphantly. "You heard that, right? Last Friday afternoon, the day before I went for the keys, Qi Min called about retrieving them! She was alive! I told you—she wasn't missing! She came back!"
The suffocating fear and despair evaporated in an instant.
This old woman's testimony shattered the police's case against him. If Qi Min had contacted the repair shop, it proved she hadn't vanished from the lakeside villa three weeks ago.
The investigation hinged on her "disappearance" from that villa. Without it, the case collapsed—and Qin Guan's suspicion with it.
Whatever happened afterward no longer concerned him.
Lao He led the repair shop family to an office.
Qin Guan slumped back into his chair, weak with exhaustion.
The police would investigate. Once they verified that call, the noose around his neck would loosen.
Even if Li Yang insisted Qi Min was missing, it didn't matter. Without proof, it meant nothing.
As for Qi Min herself?
His meticulous cleanup ensured she'd never resurface.
The Xinhe Hotel where she'd stayed was lax. Even if they noticed her missing with her luggage, they wouldn't report a trivial unpaid room fee—especially since she'd checked in using Zeng Demei's ID.
The area was chaotic, evidence unlikely preserved.
Most crucially, her body lay buried beneath a construction site. Unless he confessed, no one would ever find it.
By then, Qin Guan would be untouchable.
He waited endlessly—perhaps an hour, though it felt like half a day—until Lao He finally sauntered in.
"There was a call, but it doesn't prove it was Qi Min," Lao He stated bluntly.
"The caller used a stranger's phone. The witness only recalls her being young and slim. The old lady spoke to her briefly—under a minute. She described the voice as soft, gentle, and polite, always apologizing…"
The old woman's exact words: "Sounded like a little girl, barely twenty."
A soft, polite, girlish voice?
Qin Guan's hope crumbled.
Nothing like Qi Min.
Qi Min's ambition radiated from her face and voice—husky, seductive, sharp. She'd never feign gentleness.
But Xu Ruyi would.
By the time Lao He brought the repair shop owner and Qin Guan to the hospital, night had fallen.
Through the glass door of the ward, they saw Xu Ruyi propped on her bed, struggling to read a picture book to her daughter.
Her voice was soft, gentle, and delicate—like a girl's.
"I… I really can't tell…"
The repair shop owner squinted at Xu Ruyi's bandaged face and hospital gown. She looked nothing like the woman he'd met weeks earlier. The纱布 (bandages) obscured her features. The voice was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't be sure.
He hesitated, torn between honesty and fear of consequences.
Xu Ruyi spared him the dilemma.
When Lao He entered and began questioning her, she sat up calmly and confessed without prompting:
"Yes. The person who came to get the car keys was me."