1
An identical suitcase.
Qin Guan's head buzzed as if a thread in his mind had snapped, unleashing a torrent of terrifying memories. The heavy suitcase, his pale lover Qi Min inside… Even the texture felt familiar.
He instinctively pushed the nanny aside and grabbed the suitcase handle – the same ridged, matte finish. His heart pounded as he lifted it.
Lightweight.
Empty.
Qin Guan swallowed hard, secretly relieved. Opening it confirmed – brand new, unused. He checked the shipping label but found nothing on any side of the box.
"Who delivered this?" Qin Guan regained composure, glancing at the confused nanny and Xu Ruyi.
"We were discussing dinner in the kitchen when someone knocked and shouted 'Qin Guan, package!'" Xu Ruyi explained.
The nanny added, "I opened the door, but they just dropped this and ran downstairs before I could see their face."
2
No shipping label. The courier knew his name, delivered to his doorstep, then vanished?
Qin Guan's instincts flared – not a real courier!
"Sir, what's wrong?" The nanny studied his pale face. "The delivery man was thin, young, wearing a black T-shirt with an orange waist pouch…"
Black T-shirt. Orange pouch.
Qin Guan remembered! He'd passed this man in the hallway after dismissing Li Yang and the police! Their large community banned electric bikes – the man had to walk. He might still be nearby!
"Don't touch this! I'm going after him!" Qin Guan bolted downstairs to the gate.
The guard nodded, "Orange pouch guy? Left in a taxi a minute ago."
One minute too late. Qin Guan stared helplessly at the traffic.
"Wait – he left this." The guard handed over an envelope scrawled with "Qin Guan" in ugly handwriting.
3
The contents proved predictable.
A crude hand-drawn map of the park near his office – a red circle marked a wooden bench by the artificial lake's waterwheel. Below: 300,000 yuan. Place here before 11pm tomorrow.
Extortion.
As a lawyer who specialized in combating such crimes, Qin Guan never imagined being targeted. Rage burned through him – how dare they threaten his family!
"Bastard thinks I'll tremble and pay?" He shredded the note into the trash.
4
Returning home, Qin Guan resumed normalcy.
"Just a grateful client," he explained while steaming seafood. "I mentioned needing luggage for business trips once. She remembered."
The nanny marveled, "This case costs thousands! I'd worry about thieves stealing the suitcase itself!"
Qin Guan laughed heartily.
His gaze drifted to Xu Ruyi – she sat at the dining table, watching Little Pear draw, a faint smile touching her lips.
Dinner glowed under warm lights: seasonal seafood on fine china, robust red wine in crystal glasses. This was the cultured urban life Qin Guan had clawed his way into.
No one would ruin this.
5
What if – just what if – the blackmailer truly had evidence?
Qin Guan sipped wine, his gaze lingering on the black suitcase by the entrance. Though physically small in their spacious four-bedroom apartment, it loomed in his mind like ink spreading through clear water.
He mentally replayed every detail: accidentally strangling Qi Min, dressing her corpse, stuffing her into the suitcase, pushing it into the lake's depths…
No witnesses. He was certain.
So who was blackmailing him?
Qi Min? Impossible – he'd watched her die, recognized true death from his legal work.
The prankster "Ah Jie" who'd once pushed a suitcase into the lake? Unlikely – a northerner with no southern connections to him or Qi Min.
"Daddy! Peel crab legs for me!" Little Pear's voice snapped him back.
"Of course, princess." He peeled shellfish for his elegant daughter, surveying their pristine home. Lingering doubts surrendered to unease.
6
Raising 300,000 yuan wasn't hard – Qin Guan had private savings. Every penny from various channels stayed untouched. Childhood poverty had forged his hoarding instinct.
After work, he cooked dinner as usual. Post-meal, he lied to Xu Ruyi: "Client meeting tonight."
She never doubted him – not since their courtship.
At 9 PM, he kissed his sleeping daughter goodbye. Briefcase in hand, he drove to the park.
7
9:30 PM. Qin Guan retrieved the cash-stuffed black bag from under his car seat, sitting on a bench near the park entrance.
The crowd thinned as night deepened.
10:40 PM. He strolled to the waterwheel, finding the target bench. A concrete groove lay beneath it.
Hands trembling, he stuffed the 300,000 yuan bag into the crevice.
He didn't leave.
Ducking behind a souvenir kiosk, he stripped off his white dress shirt and slacks, changing into black athletic wear and a baseball cap from his bag.
Circling back, he hid behind a tree stump near the bench, eyes locked on the cash-filled groove.
No one would take this money.
And he'd catch the blackmailing bastard.