The moment Room 201's door opened, Qin Guan sensed something wrong.
A thick, pungent smell of bleach surged through the crack, mixing with the stale dampness of a sealed room.
Yes, he had used bleach.
He vividly remembered cleaning Qi Min's hands with it over thirty hours ago before putting it back.
The odor was sharp and unpleasant.
But even if it lingered, after thirty hours, it shouldn't have been this strong and distinct.
As the door swung fully open, Qin Guan was utterly stunned.
The room's state when he'd left with the suitcase containing Qi Min was etched in his mind like a knife—rumpled bedsheets, a bath towel draped over a chair, a hand towel tossed on the nightstand, a tissue box thrown on the bed, a nearly full trash bin…
In short, it had looked exactly like an occupied room.
Yet now, the room was spotlessly clean.
A terrifying, sterile cleanliness.
The bedsheets were stretched taut, every item neatly arranged. Folded towels sat on the counter, the tissue box on the nightstand was perfectly aligned.
Not a speck of dust remained.
Even the trash bin stood empty.
This looked like a room waiting for its first guest.
"Qin Guan, you never entered this room? You claimed you only met Qi Min outside the back door downstairs? Never came up?"
Detective He kept his eyes locked on Qin Guan's face, scrutinizing every micro-expression.
This was Qin Guan's fabricated story.
He swallowed hard and nodded calmly—since he'd denied entering, any changes in the room shouldn't surprise him.
"Didn't you say you only clean when guests ask? Why's this room tidied up?"
Another officer glared at the hotel owner.
The owner scratched his head, equally baffled—he rarely stayed at the hotel, treating it as a temporary cash cow until demolition.
He couldn't care less about guests.
He'd only come today because the police had called.
"I'm confused too. Let me check."
The plump owner hurried to the entrance, summoning the front desk staff and a lean middle-aged cleaning lady.
"I didn't clean it," the cleaner stammered nervously under the officers' gaze. "This room hasn't been touched for days. The door's been shut—I thought someone was still staying…"
If she hadn't cleaned it, who had?
An invisible thread seemed to tighten around Qin Guan's heart, pulling it upward inch by inch—Who? Who did this? Qi Min was definitely dead. Was it Zeng Demei?
"Was a young woman staying here?" Detective He pressed the cleaner.
If she could confirm Qi Min's presence, it would help.
But the cleaner shook her head uncertainly.
"Short hair, tall, big eyes, pretty," Qin Guan desperately prompted her. "You must've seen her coming in and out for meals!"
The cleaner twisted her apron, glancing around helplessly. "I… I just clean when told. I don't notice guests…"
Qin Guan gritted his teeth—no wonder these people stayed poor, doing the bare minimum without observing anything!
"Wait, Qi Min had long hair, didn't she?" An officer suddenly questioned.
Qin Guan's spine turned to ice. Had he slipped up again?
Quickly recalling: Qi Min had sported short hair when he saw her near the park.
"She… she recently cut it. I noticed when I last saw her by the park," he explained.
But the detectives' skeptical looks told him they no longer believed a word he said.
Words meant nothing—he needed witnesses.
Qin Guan thrust his phone showing Qi Min's work photo at the front desk girls. "Look! This woman—short hair! She stayed here for days! Even if she used someone else's ID, you must've seen her during check-in!"
The girls studied the photo, then shook their heads in unison.
"We… we aren't strict here," one finally whispered like a mosquito. "Anyone with a room key can come in…"
Zeng Demei must've booked the room first, then given Qi Min the key. The staff never noticed.
"But…" The other girl suddenly stared at Qin Guan, hesitation giving way to certainty. "I think… I saw you here before."