Chapter Fifty-Seven: Amassing Wealth

That night, the two of them—one in the inner room, the other in the outer—were separated by a wall and a door, and passed the hours quietly, without disturbance. Early the next morning, An Changpu was the first to rise, dressing neatly so as not to make Qin Ruonan feel awkward about leaving the inner room.

When Qin Ruonan emerged at the sound of movement outside, dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her whole demeanor had clearly suffered. To An Changpu, it might have seemed she simply hadn’t slept well, but Qin Ruonan knew very well that she hadn’t had a decent night’s rest for two nights running.

“Up already?” An Changpu noted her lack of energy but pretended not to notice, speaking to her as if nothing were amiss. “When I went out to buy instant noodles last night, I found a breakfast shop near the hotel. It’s still early, so let’s grab something to eat there first, and then carry on with our investigation as planned.”

He paused, then added before she could respond, “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry. You haven’t eaten a thing since lunch yesterday!”

Qin Ruonan said nothing, nor did she object. After a night, she looked even more fatigued than the day before, as though she didn’t have the energy to even open her mouth.

They gathered their few belongings and checked out at the front desk. According to An Changpu’s plan, they went to the breakfast shop next door and ordered a simple meal of porridge and side dishes to fill their stomachs.

When breakfast arrived, Qin Ruonan, contrary to her lack of appetite the previous day, ate heartily.

“I figured you’d be hungry by now. If you still claimed you weren’t, you’d really need a hospital check-up for anorexia.” An Changpu teased her lightly.

Swallowing her mouthful, Qin Ruonan wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “People need to eat to keep going. I can’t collapse before the case is solved.”

“It’s good to have that resolve. People need to remain unmoved by external joys or sorrows. No matter how much trouble others cause you, you’ve got to learn to let it go. As long as your conscience is clear, just ignore other people’s unreasonable demands,” An Changpu said, his words carrying a hint of meaning.

Qin Ruonan caught his implication. Her expression changed and she glared at him defensively. “Why were you sneaking around eavesdropping on my phone call last night?”

An Changpu raised three fingers in a declaration of innocence. “I swear to the sun, I had no intention of eavesdropping. If you’re so worried about being overheard, maybe try keeping your voice down next time. No one needs to make an effort to listen in—your conversation was perfectly audible.”

Qin Ruonan flushed bright red with embarrassment.

“I’m just being nosy, so answer if you want. If not, forget I asked. Who got you so worked up last night?” An Changpu asked, curious but cautious. Though he hadn’t known Qin Ruonan as long as her other colleagues in the major crimes unit, he’d come to see that aside from a bit of impatience and a drive that matched any man’s, she was generally open-minded, especially at work—always focused, never distracted. But her raised voice and anger last night, paired with her lethargy this morning, were things he’d never seen from her.

Qin Ruonan didn’t respond, her eyes lowered in silence.

Seeing this, An Changpu wisely dropped the subject. After a while, he spoke again. “Yesterday at T County Public Security Bureau, I heard a lot about your achievements back in City B. Things seemed to be going well there—why did you suddenly request a transfer to City C? Starting from scratch here, doesn’t that feel like a loss?”

“There’s nothing to regret. I just wanted a change of scene,” Qin Ruonan replied calmly, her tone flat and emotionless.

Given her nature, the more indifferent she sounded, the more An Changpu sensed she was suppressing something.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t ask again,” he said earnestly. “I just think everyone has a limit to how much they can bear. Every so often, we need to lighten our load. Maybe it’s presumptuous, but if you ever have worries and trust me enough, I’ll always listen. If you don’t, I’ll be glad for you—at least it means your troubles haven’t exceeded what you can handle.”

Qin Ruonan said nothing, and An Changpu’s one-sided attempt at comfort soon lost its momentum. They ate in silence.

As they were nearly finished, Qin Ruonan suddenly put down her spoon, as if making a great decision. “It was my brother. The one who called last night—it was my brother.”

“After money again? How old is he?”

“Twenty-one. By the way—did you bring your bank card? Could you lend me some money?” Qin Ruonan asked awkwardly, her eyes pleading. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I get back to City C.”

“I have my card, and I can lend you the money, but don’t you think you’re spoiling him?” An Changpu recalled what his colleagues in City B, including Cheng Feng, had told him about Qin Ruonan’s family, and combined it with what he’d overheard the night before. It wasn’t hard to guess the situation.

Qin Ruonan sighed, resignation mingling with helplessness as she shook her head. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

For a moment, An Changpu was at a loss. It was easy enough to talk about principles, but as she said, he didn’t truly understand her circumstances. His own family, if not wealthy, was at least comfortable and peaceful—far better than Qin Ruonan’s situation. Without experiencing it himself, he couldn’t truly grasp her difficulties.

So the conversation came to an abrupt end. After breakfast, they picked up their investigation, following the list of addresses for the remaining individuals and visiting each in turn.

Fortunately, most of the men who had been matched with Lu Min were under sixty, mostly retired or self-employed small business owners, which made the day’s visits smoother than expected—none were wasted trips.

With seamless cooperation, An Changpu and Qin Ruonan skillfully avoided mentioning Lu Min’s death or true gender, managing to learn about each man’s acquaintance with Lu Min without causing undue distress.

By the time they had finished visiting the eight known suitors, it was already two or three in the afternoon. They headed to T County Public Security Bureau to inquire about the man who had registered under a false name at the matchmaking agency, and to summarize their findings about the eight they had already interviewed.

All eight men were at least ten years older than Lu Min’s actual age; the oldest was over seventy, more than twenty years Lu Min’s senior.

Why had Lu Min chosen to meet so many men considerably older than himself? With Lu Min gone, there was no way to ask, but from his circumstances, one could surmise he targeted older men, guessing they would be more impressed by his looks, more attentive, more indulgent, and less likely to see through his disguise.

Among the eight, An Changpu and Qin Ruonan hadn’t met one suitor directly, only his younger brother. They called the man, who explained he was out of town buying goods for his shop and wouldn’t be back for a day or two. He barely remembered Lu Bing, only recalling after a prompt that he’d met someone by that name a few months earlier.

“My brother met quite a few prospects back then—if you hadn’t brought a photo, I wouldn’t have remembered Lu Bing at all,” the brother explained. “I do recall her, though. My brother went on a lot of dates, but most of the matches weren’t great. He signed up with a matchmaking agency more or less at random, and was surprised when they introduced someone. My wife and I were curious and secretly followed to have a look—she was very attractive, and we thought maybe this time it would work out. But after two dates, my brother said he didn’t want to see her again.”

“Did he say why?”

“He said she was too flirtatious, not steady—not someone he could settle down with,” the brother said, slightly embarrassed. “To be honest, my brother’s first wife eloped with her lover, which hit him hard and took years to recover from. Now that he’s finally moved on, he won’t risk being with someone who makes him feel insecure.”

Of the eight men who had met Lu Min, some had only seen “her” once and could never arrange a second meeting. Except for the one who rejected Lu Min, the rest had all tried unsuccessfully to meet again.

After investigating these men, Qin Ruonan quickly noticed a pattern: those who saw Lu Min more frequently were generally well-off, and each meeting involved some expenditure—at minimum a meal, perhaps a small gift like cosmetics, and at most, jewelry and clothing.

Clearly, Lu Min did not choose partners based on looks or charm, but on their willingness to “invest” in him. He was using matchmaking as a means of financial gain.

But had he really gone through with partial gender reassignment just to impersonate a woman and defraud people? That question lingered in the minds of both detectives.

Meanwhile, who was the man who registered under a false name at the matchmaking agency? And what was he hiding?

[Thanks to Master Zall and his son for the pink tickets! Deepest thanks! If anyone has minimum pink tickets for next month, please consider voting for Xiao Mo in February!]