The Vanishing Lover

They had actually returned to the lakeside villa.

The parking lot ringed by a white fence, the winding path paved with colored pebbles, the lush green bamboo grove swaying in the breeze, painting the world green. Beyond the grove stood several American country-style villas. Above the similarly styled entrance archway, the characters "湖畔风情" (Lakeside Charm) were written with powerful, resonant strokes, clearly the work of a master calligrapher.

Behind the tallest building lay the tranquil lake. Sunlight sparkling on the water danced through the gaps in the green canopy, leaping into Qin Guan's eyes.

A familiar place. Yet, after barely a month, it felt strangely like a lifetime had passed.

"The scenery here is good, the air is good! Rich people, city folks, even retired leaders come here for vacation!" The popcorn-selling old man saw Qin Guan's handcuffs but showed no surprise, just a knowing smile. "Everyone loves a nice place! Good people like it, bad people like it too..."

Qin Guan ignored him. Following the officers, he walked quickly out of the parking lot to the hotel entrance. There, he immediately spotted Lao He.

Lao He stood at the hotel entrance, holding a cup of soy milk and speaking quietly with another officer. Seeing Qin Guan, he didn't stop talking.

He had rushed here overnight too.

Why?

Qin Guan scanned the area—almost the entire criminal investigation team was present. Plus him, the suspect. What had happened here? New clues?

Clearly not. They all looked like they'd just arrived. Everyone was stretching, loosening stiff limbs. All eyes were fixed on Qin Guan.

They were all waiting for him.

Qin Guan understood instantly—they were waiting for him to identify the crime scene.

Meaning, the police had determined this place was the crime scene.

Unable to find more compelling evidence, and getting nothing from Qin Guan's mouth, they had brought him to the "scene of the crime"—experience told Qin Guan that many criminals brought to the scene would experience some degree of psychological pressure.

Under such pressure, if the police employed certain tactics and methods, it was easy to break down the criminal's psychological defenses.

Qin Guan sneered inwardly. This might work on others, but for him, it was utterly useless.

Because this was not the crime scene at all.

What happened here originally was nothing but a farce orchestrated by Qi Min herself—the supposed murder was fake! How could there be a crime scene?

The real crime scene should be the Xinhe Hotel.

It was just a pity these people couldn't figure it out.

They couldn't even figure out where the actual crime scene was! Dragging him all the way here, wasting time, money, energy—did they really think such foolishness could convict him, Qin Guan?

Of course, he had to thank that self-righteously clever Xu Ruyi—it was precisely because of her meddling and her stupidity that the real crime scene had remained undiscovered.

Because she had cleaned the Xinhe Hotel spotless, erasing every trace Qi Min had left behind.

That idiot! Just to prove Qi Min hadn't returned, just to prove he was lying, she had done such a stupid thing.

Yes, she had proven Qi Min didn't return—the police had never found evidence Qi Min was alive, so they always assumed she disappeared during the business trip. That's why they brought him here.

Besides proving that, what else could it prove?

Oh, and Qi Min's phone—admittedly, the bitch played that card well. But it didn't mean much either. At most, it cost him some temporary freedom, undergoing interrogation. As long as he kept his mouth shut, and the police couldn't find Qi Min's body or direct evidence proving he killed her, they'd have to release him when the time limit was up.

Moreover, if during this period the police discovered Qi Min had returned from the lakeside villa, his suspicion would be completely cleared, and he'd be free even earlier.

That bitch understood nothing! Did she naively, childishly think this could prove he, Qin Guan, killed her? At a scene that wasn't even the crime scene?

Identify what? Identify a murder that never happened? Search for a body that wasn't here?

The body wasn't here.

The body was far away, over a thousand kilometers away, beneath that construction site building—that was Qin Guan's ultimate reassurance.

No body? What kind of case was that?

How could they investigate? How could they convict?

Taking a step back, even if they found Qi Min's body beneath that building during the investigation, Qin Guan wouldn't be afraid—there would be no clues or evidence linking him to the body. No surveillance cameras captured him nearby.

The one camera there had been dealt with perfectly.

Besides, he had an alibi. Security guards at his own residential complex could testify to his entry.

In such a situation, he wouldn't even need a lawyer in court. He could defend himself and win easily.

No fear.

This place had nothing.

They had no evidence. If they did, they wouldn't have waited until now, wouldn't have driven through the night to this useless "scene."

Having sorted out his thoughts, Qin Guan's heart grew even steadier.

He took a steamed bun offered by an officer and calmly took a large bite.

"Lawyer Qin's appetite is pretty good," an officer remarked, watching him with a smile. "The buns at this hotel are really something. Supposedly their signature. Taste isn't bad. Hey, Lawyer Qin, did you try them last time you came with Qi Min?"

Hah, starting the psychological tactics already? Trying to get him to think about Qi Min?

Qin Guan laughed inwardly—using this trick on him? Wasn't it too naive, too childish?

He had always been composed. The more critical the situation, the calmer he became.

The night his crazy mother had her accident, after personally seeing her lying at the bottom of the pit, confirming she couldn't climb out, confirming almost no one would pass that road and find her late at night, he had turned around calmly and returned home.

He lay peacefully in his own bed until dawn, and might even have dozed off for a while.

His father-in-law's incident went without saying—his performance after that car accident had been impeccable.

He had been on the phone with a client—a real client—who heard him say: "Huh? Seems like an accident happened. Let me check. It's near my father-in-law's place. The road design here is terrible. It's a five-way intersection with a flowerbed right in the middle, blocking the view. Accidents happen all the time here. I even bumped into an e-bike here once myself. Oh my god! Oh my god! That's my father-in-law! Oh my god! Dad—"

He kept the client as a witness. Then he rushed over, threw himself beside his father-in-law, and in the chaos, wiped away his own blood from the wheelchair handle.

He knelt on the ground, calling out helplessly, tears streaming down his face, begging the onlookers: "Is there a doctor? Does anyone know first aid? Please, save him! Save him! This is my dad—Dad—"

When the ambulance arrived, it was he who carried his father-in-law in.

He wept inconsolably, utterly grief-stricken, the entire time.

When Xu Ruyi arrived at the hospital, he was overcome with remorse and self-blame. He banged his head violently against the wall, his forehead hitting the doorframe, instantly swelling. Ignoring the pain, he banged again until blood flowed, only stopping when Xu Ruyi pulled him away.

The police must have had their suspicions then too. They questioned Qin Guan meticulously about every detail. But Qin Guan's performance was flawless—not the kind of perfect that feels unnerving, but truly flawless, revealing no suspicion whatsoever.

Because when it came to psychological tactics, he had always been the stronger one.

Since childhood.