When Wang Shanshan returned to Deng Yuezhao's home, it was already 2:15 p.m.
She let out a long sigh of relief.
On the way back, she had repeatedly checked to make sure she wasn't being followed.
To avoid any possibility of her own misjudgment, she didn't direct the driver to her own home but instead had him drop her off at a spot where she could immediately catch another taxi to go in a different direction.
After several such diversions,
she finally stopped near Deng Yuezhao's house and then walked back home using a hidden shortcut.
It wasn't that she was being overly cautious.
The morning's events at Fenghai Market had been frightfully unsettling.
Out of nowhere, someone just disappeared.
It was as if heaven couldn't stand the sight of that swindler's face any longer.
A gust of wind, a series of coincidences.
And just like that, the vendor was dead, without even a chance to let out a final cry.
