Sitting on the sofa, Zhao Xuan idly scrolled through WeChat. High school grads had a serious itch to share their lives, and the few who'd already made it to the beach were posting pics of their digs — looked like a smaller villa than Green Valley.
Bai Lvdi's Moments was carefully curated. While others just slapped up a few random shots, she posted only four photos, but they summed up the villa, the beach, and lunch.
Of course, she featured herself in every one — decked out, made-up, and with her good looks, even beauty mode just added a little polish. Paired with a fresh, breezy caption, she painted the picture of a rich, carefree girl.
Zhao had never paid attention to this sort of thing before, but now he knew those posts weren't just for classmates — her WeChat list definitely included the type of guys she was aiming to impress.
Looking back over her recent posts, they all followed the same theme: fancy afternoon teas or shopping trips. The Conrad or Hilton logo "accidentally" showed up in tea pics; Christian Dior tags "casually" appeared in shopping photos. Pure bourgeois aesthetic.
As a classmate, Zhao knew her family was better off than his old self, but not that well off — not enough to support the lifestyle she portrayed.
Having spent real money himself, he knew even Dior's entry pieces cost over 10,000 yuan.
Bai had never worn anything that pricey at school or during the recent parties.
From Zhao's perspective, her posts felt too staged, like she was forcing a persona.
Wan Chujun, the real rich girl, had worn a Givenchy cropped jacket and skirt yesterday — Zhao later found out they were worth over 20,000 yuan — and cooked in them without a second thought. Even with his windfall, clothes at that level were luxuries to Zhao; for someone like Wan, they were everyday wear.
Zhao couldn't see Wan's Moments — no way she'd friend him —, but he imagined it wasn't like Bai's. Luo Changhao, who'd just handed him a hot girl, was also a top-tier rich kid, and his Moments was all Honor of Kings match scores.
Shaking his head, Zhao kept scrolling. Next was a post from Ye Peiqi: several mirror selfies of her dancing in a full-length studio mirror.
Even though he was now her master and knew her true colors from Luo, maybe because he hadn't lost anything and had even gained a bitch, Zhao still subconsciously saw her as that pure, sweet girl.
Deep down, she and Bai were the same type, but Ye was way better at crafting an image. Short and flat-chested she might be, but her persona hit hard for sheltered middle-class folks — and by the time anyone saw through it, it'd be too late.
Ye's targeting was precise; in the eyes of real rich people, these tactics meant nothing. Like Luo, she was playing a different game — one they didn't even acknowledge. But she misjudged Luo's background and got punished for it.
Still, seeing her post those pics as a bitch under Zhao irked him a bit.
He commented with an "×".
Less than two minutes later, the post vanished. Then came Ye's message: Sorry, Master. Qi-dog posted photos without permission. Please punish me.
Zhao wasn't really mad; she posted — it was that her clothes showed most of her thighs and cleavage. He replied: From now on, nothing below the neck can be shown to other men, except your hands.
Putting his phone away, he got ready to head out.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
He opened it to two cops.
"Are you Zhao Xuan?" one asked.
"I am. What's this about?" Zhao saw they were polite, checked their IDs, and invited them in.
"Officer Yang?" Zhao recognized the female officer, Yang Wenyu, the cop he'd met after his fight with Cao Shudong. She'd been standing behind the other officer in uniform, and since he'd only seen her in casual clothes that day, he hadn't recognized her at first.
In uniform, Yang looked sharper, more commanding — a distinct presence.
"Good, you remember me, Mr. Zhao." Yang followed him into the living room. His parents, seeing the officers, were puzzled until they noticed that Yang seemed to know Zhao and relaxed.
The three sat. Yang introduced herself properly: "Straight to the point — I'm Yang Wenyu, Lianhai City Criminal Police, this is my colleague, Liao Suifei."
The male officer had a wuxia-style name.
"Since your altercation with Cao Shudong, have you seen him again?" Yang asked, taking the lead; Liao took notes. Both were First-Level Police Supervisors — no clear primary/secondary.
"No. Saw him say in the class group yesterday morning that he had something on and couldn't make the reunion. Other than that, nothing."
"What exactly was the conflict?"
Zhao figured Cao was likely in trouble, but wasn't sure if the cops wanted him as a witness or a suspect.
"Nothing major — just the usual high school 'I look down on you, you look down on me.' But he's petty and vengeful. He liked this girl in our class, Wan Chujun. I got the same score as her on the gaokao and planned to apply to the same school, so maybe he got jealous." Zhao didn't really know Cao's beef with him, just laid out what he knew.
"That's it?" Yang seemed surprised — their fight had looked intense.
Zhao gave a bitter smile. "Yeah, I'm confused too. Someone's been stirring up trouble between me and some classmates. Whether there's more, I don't know."
"Do you know who's behind it?"
"Classmate named Bai Lvdi. Maybe others, but I'm not sure."
Yang nodded.
"Mind telling me what's going on?" Zhao probed.
"He's missing. The family filed a report. You're the last person we can confirm he had contact with."
"But he was in our class group yesterday morning?" Zhao was baffled — adults don't usually file missing person reports that fast.
"His parents provided solid proof he was unreachable since yesterday afternoon." Yang continued, "Where were you from yesterday afternoon to night?"
Zhao's heart sank — they were treating him as a person of interest. If he couldn't clear the suspicion fast, there'd be an investigation. Worse, his source of funds could get scrutinized.
The system had legalized the cash via overseas transfers as wages, but he'd still owe massive taxes, and banks might miss it, but a real audit would spot that a regular 18-year-old with modest roots got millions in overseas income in days. Even without "unexplained wealth" laws, combined with Cao's disappearance, it'd be messy.
"Yesterday afternoon I met a friend at the Grand Hyatt Hotel, left around 3, went to the class reunion, stayed till this morning." His alibi was simple.
"Did you leave the reunion at any point?"
"Yeah. After dinner, I walked around the Green Valley Villa area for a long time, ran into Luo Changhao from the next class, and talked till 11 PM. Then our classmate Ye Peiqi wanted to go home — with those missing women cases, I didn't want her going alone, so I drove her home, then back to the villa." He couldn't reveal the real reason he was with Luo, but except for the solo drive from Ye's place, he had witnesses.
"Very gentlemanly." Yang nodded, saw Liao finish notes, then stood.
"We're done here. You don't appear connected to the case, but try not to leave the city for now — we may need more cooperation." She added, "This isn't a restriction, you're free to move about and start college. If we need you after school starts, we'll reach out."
Zhao agreed — it was just a suggestion. Then he asked, "The fight was four days ago, but they reported him missing yesterday afternoon. No one saw him in those three days?"
That was what puzzled him — according to Yang, he couldn't be the last person Cao saw unless Cao had literally met no one but family in three days.
"We can't disclose those details, but don't worry — we won't wrong a good person. Don't stress too much." Yang thought he was just a nervous high schooler.
Getting no useful info, Zhao shook hands with both officers — especially noting the feel of Yang's long, capable fingers.
Her hands, probably from regular exercise or gun use, weren't as smooth as Lin Jingjing's or Ye's; they had a slight callus, a bit rough, yet still graceful.
Too bad he couldn't linger — getting caught flirting with a cop would end badly.