Read Chapter 17: — FAITH AND DISCIPLINE

Jiang’s family kept a handwritten notebook that had belonged to his late father.

It was filled with quotations from the Mao era, family notes, business principles and private reflections. To an outsider, it looked like a political relic. To Jiang’s mother, it was closer to scripture and diary combined—a record of how one generation had survived upheaval and tried to instruct the next.

When investigators returned it after examining it, she received it with both hands.

Li understood that symbols survived not because everyone interpreted them the same way, but because families loaded them with private meaning.

That mattered when the case moved toward Susan Merlin.

Her Chinese name was Zhou Xinying.

Her parents had separated when she was young. She carried her mother’s surname. Her mother later died. Susan spent years moving between countries and watching the people who had shaped her childhood.

The facts sounded ready-made for a thriller villain.

Chenxi refused the shortcut.

“If we suspect her, suspect her because she did something.”

Old Zhao accepted the correction.

A good investigator, he liked to say, needed the ability to abandon his favourite theory.

Li silently added: a good doctor too.

Meanwhile, Zou remained missing.

The ransom demand shifted. Deadlines changed. The supposed blind messenger vanished. No body appeared. No credible proof of life arrived.

The case became a war against uncertainty.

Old Zhao’s health worsened during it.

He lost weight. His hands sometimes trembled. He concealed pain badly and exhaustion worse.

Chenxi tried to remove him from active work.

He refused.

“You can arrest me after the case.”

“I am a forensic doctor, not your commanding officer.”

“Exactly. No jurisdiction.”

Li found him alone one night, staring at Zou’s photograph.

“Go home.”

“You first.”

“I’m younger.”

“I’m more stubborn.”

“That is not a medical advantage.”

Zhao smiled.

“Xiangyang, if I don’t finish this…”

“You are not allowed to turn yourself into a final speech.”

“I was going to say you finish it.”

Li looked away.

“Then don’t make me.”

For the first time, Zhao’s humour disappeared entirely.

“I’ll try.”

It was the most honest promise either of them could make.