Chapter 63: Talent

Once Qiong Cang stepped into the room, she understood why the Sanyao technicians had unlocked the door for her so easily. This room likely had nothing to do with Ding Tao’s death.

Most of the furniture in the room was covered with white dust sheets, and judging by the dust accumulated on them, the items had been sitting here for years. The wooden floor was also blanketed in a thick layer of gray dust, completely devoid of footprints, proving that this area was very “clean” and had gone undisturbed for a long time.

Qiong Cang walked further inside and lifted one of the sheets, revealing a blue toddler bed underneath. Next to it was a small blue wooden cabinet.

No wonder the furniture here was all so small; these were likely things Ding Tao’s son had used when he was young.

Near the doorway, the layout became cluttered, with a few slightly damaged toys piled up. It looked like the room had been converted into a storage space.

He Jueyun ran a finger along the wall and said, puzzled, “Why lock a children’s room? The bedrooms aren’t locked, yet they chose to lock a children’s room that hasn’t been used in ages.”

“Probably because there’s too much stuff and they didn’t want to tidy it up, just like how many people don’t clean under their beds,” Qiong Cang said. “Besides, if children visited my house often, I’d want to weld the front door shut.”

He Jueyun: “…” It was precisely because of comments like this that her image was becoming increasingly bizarre.

He gave Qiong Cang a complicated look, but she had already turned and walked out.

He Jueyun followed Qiong Cang up to the second floor, walking along the banister.

A sunroom, an open-air terrace garden, a home theater. None of these rooms contained any important information.

When they reached a bedroom, Qiong Cang stopped in her tracks again.

Before them was the bedroom of Ding Tao’s son.

The young man’s bedroom was very clean. The duvet was neatly laid out on the bed, and a faint scent of laundry detergent still lingered in the air.

His son likely lived at school and didn’t come home often. The room had been cleaned but was currently unoccupied.

Qiong Cang walked over to the desk and picked up a notebook to flip through. The young man’s name, Ding Xihua, was written on it.

He Jueyun looked up at the wooden shelf beside the desk and muttered, “He has a lot of photos in his room.”

Qiong Cang followed his gaze.

Ding Xihua was a gentle, shy-looking young man. His features were non-threatening, with slightly long bangs covering his eyes. His hair was soft and had a gentle, yellowish tint. Overall, he fit the image of a top student perfectly, looking like the typical nice guy found in every classroom.

His photos were neatly arranged, stacked tier by tier on the wooden shelf. From their content, one could trace almost his entire upbringing.

He had attended the City’s Thirteenth Middle School for both junior and senior high, went to C University for his undergraduate degree, and was currently a graduate student there. He had been a student union leader during his school years and a student representative at graduation. He had learned the flute and won national awards for it. He had also studied Olympiad math^[1] and participated in national competitions with his high school team.

Every time Ding Xihua won an award, Ding Tao would take a photo with him, holding the trophy and smiling brightly. It showed that Ding Tao was immensely proud of his son.

As Qiong Cang scanned several photos from his school days, a faint sense of oddity arose in her heart. Her eyes drifted for a moment, but she quickly looked away and finally withdrew her gaze.

Qiong Cang asked, “Do guys usually display photos like this in their rooms?”

“It’s not very common, is it?” He Jueyun said hesitantly. “My parents keep mine in photo albums, but in my own room, I have at most one family photo. The guys I know rarely display so many photos in their rooms either. But maybe it’s just personal preference? Don’t girls hang a lot of artistic portraits in their rooms too?”

“Oh,” Qiong Cang said, her mind drifting. “Really? I don’t have a single photo.”

He Jueyun: “…”

He Jueyun racked his brain and said, “It’s the same if you have them on your phone.”

Qiong Cang looked down and pulled open the drawer in front of her. To her surprise, it was a snack drawer. She rummaged through it, finding potato chips, braised snacks, and a few familiar pieces of Orange-flavored Hard Candy.

·

Outside the simulation, several people were closely following the progress of Qiong Cang’s scenario. After hearing Qiong Cang’s question, they began to find the ordinary details they had previously overlooked strangely unsettling. They leaned in and whispered among themselves.

“Is it really that weird for a guy to display photos in his room? Tough guys have their hobbies, and pretty boys have theirs.”

“Guys can be vain too, right? At its core, this is just being a closet show-off.”

“Qiong Cang probably just asked on a whim because she’s never taken photos herself, so it’s a blind spot for her.”

He Chuanzhou’s steady, powerful voice slowly spilled from her lips, carrying a weight that instantly silenced the discussion.

“We must learn to extract useful information from any fragment obtained during a scene investigation. This includes evidence or traces directly related to the case, as well as clues that help refine the profiles of the victim or those around them. Although profiling cannot serve as definitive evidence, it can assist in your reasoning and judgment of the case. You never know when it might become the key to solving it.”

Hearing this, Xie Qimeng’s tightly knit brows twitched. Only then did he begin to pay attention to the photos that had just flashed across the screen.

He Chuanzhou continued, “Almost all the photos Ding Xihua displayed are records of his achievements and awards. He isn’t as indifferent to the world as his appearance suggests, nor does he simply admire his own looks like an ordinary vain person. He values honor and rankings, possesses a certain competitive streak, and is a very popular figure. Building a profile like this can be helpful when taking statements from them.”

Xie Qimeng murmured, “Did she really think that deeply?”

“How should I know what she’s thinking?” He Chuanzhou said. “But for some talented people, even if they don’t consciously think about it, their subconscious makes similar judgments.”

Xie Qimeng muttered, “Talent…”

He Chuanzhou nodded. “Yes, talent. Ordinary people rely on experience; geniuses rely on talent. Criminal investigation is no simple field. Everyone likes people who are both talented and hardworking. But people like that are, after all, a tiny minority.”

Fang Qi crossed his legs and smiled. “Qiong Cang is one of the select few, but she’s even a cut above the rest.”

He Chuanzhou didn’t disagree. Instead, she nodded. “I’ve watched the instances she participated in. Her patience and information-gathering ability alone already surpass most people. But unfortunately, her personality isn’t suited for working within the system. There is no superior suited to lead her. Hmm… she would make a good external expert, but I still don’t know what her actual specialty is.”

Fang Qi said, “For work she doesn’t like, her fees are exorbitant. Back when she was teaching at A University, you could get free consultations from her, but there’s no such luck now.”

Xie Qimeng said, “Captain…”

“Shh, wait a moment.” He Chuanzhou raised her hand to stop him, her eyes like sharp blades staring intently at the screen. Suddenly, she said, “Why is she looking at that cabinet of snacks?”

Fang Qi had lost interest ever since Qiong Cang started her search. Hearing He Chuanzhou speak, he finally noticed Qiong Cang’s gaze, but by the time he looked over, Qiong Cang had already averted her eyes.

The person inside was still aimlessly opening cabinets to search.

Fang Qi raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” He Chuanzhou said with certainty. “Her gaze clearly paused at the drawer. I’ve dealt with countless people; I know exactly what they’re looking at from a single glance.”

On the side of the screen, a zoomed-in image popped up. However, other than various snacks, there was nothing strange about it.

Fang Qi looked skeptical.

Xie Qimeng held back his frustration and asked, “Captain He, aren’t you paying a bit too much attention to Qiong Cang? There are several other players, too.”

He Chuanzhou didn’t seem to hear him, still staring unblinkingly at Qiong Cang. Only after a few seconds did she ask absentmindedly, “Am I? The other players are still interrogating Hong Jun, nothing particularly important. What were you going to say just now?”

Xie Qimeng took a deep breath and said in defeat, “…Nothing. Please continue.”

In the instance, Qiong Cang and He Jueyun quickly finished searching the bedroom. Qiong Cang said, “Let’s go. Let’s check out Ding Tao’s study.”

She casually walked past the desk and naturally swiped the Orange-flavored Hard Candy inside. Her movements were incredibly practiced.

He Jueyun still caught her in the act, and he cried in surprise, “That’s evidence!”

“It’s twenty cents a piece.” Qiong Cang unwrapped it. “How about I pay a yuan first?”

“Do you think this is about twenty cents?!” He Jueyun said angrily.

Captain He Chuanzhou nodded.

Exactly! How could she be so improper?!

Fang Qi was speechless and glanced sideways at He Chuanzhou. He thought to himself that these people were truly terrifying. Their insight was something even many excellent psychologists couldn’t match.

Inside, He Jueyun continued, “Do you know how many lines of code a single piece of candy takes? Do you know how expensive Sanyao’s top programmers are?! What you just ate is a massive chunk of funding!”

Qiong Cang said regretfully, “But this candy has no flavor. It’s just… slippery.”

He Jueyun slapped his forehead. “Because no one expected a player to actually eat the evidence!”

Qiong Cang said, “The data is going to be reset anyway. What’s the big deal about eating a piece of candy? Besides, if it’s poisoned, wouldn’t I clear the instance immediately?”

He Jueyun laughed in exasperation. “How do you have so many twisted arguments?”

At this moment, a black prompt popped up on the system: Bug received, thank you for the feedback. 【Thumbs up】【Tooth-baring smile】

Having received confirmation, Qiong Cang also gave a thumbs up, sharing a remote, gratified smile with the programmer.

He Jueyun stared, feeling deeply hurt.

These shameless little brats. When will you ever be this attentive to your boss? How can they have two faces at such a young age?

Qiong Cang had already walked away with light steps, entering Ding Tao’s study.

Just then, He Jueyun received a message from his colleague, saying they were already on their way back with Shen Sui, and asking if the two of them were still waiting at the door. He Jueyun gave an affirmative reply and urged them to hurry up.

By the time he entered the study, Qiong Cang had already taken over the executive chair in the center, sitting comfortably. However, she didn’t turn on the computer on the desk, nor did she rummage through the items on it. Instead, she was holding her phone, looking up information.

He Jueyun walked over and searched through the desk himself.

Qiong Cang watched him busy himself and looked up, saying, “Don’t bother. It’s unlikely Ding Tao would leave important evidence out in the open. As for the computer, I tried it just now, and ‘Open Sesame’ didn’t unlock it.”

He Jueyun said, exasperated, “…Are you addicted to using cheats?”

Qiong Cang said, “The clues we can find in the study are nothing more than a few contracts Ding Tao signed during his company’s operations, proving his shady dealings in the business world.”

He Jueyun said, “And?”

Qiong Cang handed over her phone. “Look. Ding Tao claimed he was raising funds to expand a new production line. But after attracting investment, he didn’t immediately start building the new factory. Instead, he siphoned the money out. The company released a few announcements, and then there was no follow-up.”

He Jueyun asked, “Where did he siphon it to?”

“Most likely to lend out for interest, and the company didn’t record the relevant accounts,” Qiong Cang said. “This portion of the interest probably went into his own pocket. In addition, the bad debt rate on his annual report far exceeds his peers, and the repeatedly disappearing accounts receivable could have gone anywhere. His daily expenses are very high; he must have some gray income.”

He Jueyun found it a bit absurd. “He’s already considered rich, and his company has a good reputation. If he had just developed honestly, his business could have expanded steadily. Managing it like this, isn’t he just ruining his own future?”

“Once you’ve seen wealthier people, you crave money even more, because the world of capital is cruel and distinct, and Ding Tao is not someone who is easily satisfied.” Qiong Cang crossed her fingers, resting her elbows on the armrests in a posture that carried the air of a business tycoon. She said, “Once someone has tasted sweetness by exploiting others’ trust, it’s very easy for them to treat everyone else as fools. Not to mention, Ding Tao inherited his company from his father’s generation and managed to maintain it well for years. His success came too easily.”

He Jueyun looked at her, for a moment forgetting who the overbearing president^[2] actually was.

He handed the phone back and asked, “Following standard procedure, shouldn’t we investigate the debtors who held a grudge against Ding Tao?”

Qiong Cang spread her hands. “Probably. But that list is likely going to be massive. My gut tells me it would mostly be a waste of time.”

Given the way Ding Tao conducted himself, how could there only be a few people who held a grudge against him?

Before the two could finalize their next step in the investigation, a pop-up notification from the Sanyao system alerted them that Shen Sui had returned.

The data immediately reloaded, and the two of them were sent back to the locked door.

Qiong Cang turned around and saw three people arriving together.

Ding Tao’s wife, Shen Sui, leaned weakly against her son, the tip of her nose and the corners of her eyes red. Although she wore no makeup, she possessed the charm of a mature woman and looked deeply pitiable. She wore a mid-length dress and a pair of black high heels.

The police officer behind them nodded in greeting. Shen Sui also rasped, “Hello.”

Just as He Jueyun was about to return the greeting, he noticed Qiong Cang staring intently, scanning Shen Sui up and down without the slightest attempt to hide it. Her behavior was incredibly rude.