Chapter 68: Aunt Mei's Escape Route

The operation was executed with remarkable speed. While ordinary citizens went about their daily routines, the police officers endured a sleepless night. With the aid of police dogs, the authorities unearthed a large quantity of human bones from the landfill. Forensic analysis revealed that most of the remains belonged to adults, with a few fragments from children. They managed to piece together more than thirty skeletons—how many beloved family members and friends, cherished children, were among them?

This was no ordinary case. The dog farm’s owner and staff were interrogated through the night. Previously, the traffickers had been tight-lipped, yielding nothing to questioning. But this time, the dog farm’s manager finally provided something useful.

According to his confession, most of the bodies buried beneath the landfill were disposed of at the orders of a human trafficking ringleader known as "Aunt Mei." She had been in the business for over twenty years, trafficking everyone from children to women; even illegal mines had relied on her to supply forced labor in the past. The bodies in the landfill were those “Aunt Mei” found too stubborn—those who would rather die than yield—or the sickly ones who perished before they could be sold.

"Some people seemed fine at first, but as soon as they were startled, they’d fall ill. Before she could even sell them, they’d die. She’d bring the bodies to me to dispose of," he explained.

"So you fed them to the dogs, is that it?" the officer taking the statement sneered.

Who could possibly believe such a story? That "Aunt Mei" would traffic people all the way to his ex-girlfriend’s creditors? The person working the dogs at the farm was his ex-girlfriend—these two maintained quite the entangled relationship even after their breakup.

The officers listed out the evidence one by one. With so many human bones unearthed at the dog farm, if this manager failed to provide anything substantial, he would be charged with desecration of corpses, assaulting an officer, violently resisting arrest, and more. And if the police found evidence he had murdered that unfortunate creditor, he’d face an additional count of premeditated murder. The circumstances were so grave that execution was all but certain.

Clearly, the manager understood this harsh reality. He confessed everything except for adamantly denying any direct involvement in murder, including details about Aunt Mei’s whereabouts.

According to his account, after the police began their crackdown on human trafficking, Aunt Mei fled. It was rumored she went to a Southeast Asian country, but he didn't know through which channels she’d left. Moreover, as he’d never met Aunt Mei in person, he couldn’t even provide a sketch.

Such cunning was typical of Aunt Mei.

Officer Xu’s injuries were more severe than his colleague’s—his arms and legs required multiple stitches, and he received rabies shots. The station granted him several days’ leave to recover. If he hadn’t noticed someone trying to release the dogs at the last moment, it would have been a disaster had all the animals escaped.

Ultimately, all the dogs that had consumed human flesh were put down. To avoid public panic, the case would not be reported in the news until the final verdict was reached. At least a malignant tumor had been excised from society.

Elsewhere in the city, Mo Fei, who had stayed up half the night changing the door lock and cleaning up, was roused by his alarm. He lay there, eyes wide open, his expression blank. A narrow slit crept across the floor: "You’re up?"

Mo Fei rubbed his face, trying to wake himself. “How strange. It feels like I just lay down and the alarm’s already going off.”

“That means your brain is broken, beyond saving—just wait to die,” came the dry reply.

“I think I can still pull through,” Mo Fei muttered, dragging himself out of bed to wash up.

The splash of cold water revived him somewhat. Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and Lü Chunqiu’s voice called from outside, “Xiao Fei, open up! I brought you breakfast.”

Mo Fei perked up, hurrying to open the door for his meal. As Lü Chunqiu stepped inside, she eyed the new lock. “When did you change the lock? It wasn’t like this a couple of days ago.”

Mo Fei replied while biting into a bun, “Grandma Zhang downstairs helped me change it. She thought the old one wasn’t safe.”

“You really do need to pay attention to your safety these days,” Lü Chunqiu nodded approvingly. “But who knew Grandma Zhang had such skills?”

“She picked out the lock for me,” Mo Fei said, poking a straw into his soy milk. “What brings you here so early?”

Lü Chunqiu sat on the sofa, pulling a gift box from her bag. “What do you think I’m here for?” she grumbled.

Clearly, Mo Fei had forgotten. With reporting the dog farm, helping with interviews, and cleaning up his entryway, he was stretching himself thin.

Lü Chunqiu took out a Tibetan Dzi bead necklace, beckoning him over. Mo Fei obediently knelt in front of her, munching his breakfast as she fastened it around his neck.

The dark brown leather cord threaded through the Dzi bead looked wild and free against Mo Fei’s neck—a sort of untamed beauty. Yet, he seemed to be growing more rebellious by the day. While Lü Chunqiu found it aesthetically pleasing, she also felt her artist was drifting further from elegance and refinement.

Mo Fei turned to the narrow slit. “Brother, are you satisfied?”

The slit nodded demurely. “Get me one as well, and I’ll be satisfied.”

Mo Fei nearly choked on his bun. “You want one too? Do you know how expensive this is?” He counted on his fingers. “Ten thousand… more than ten thousand!”

“It’s not your money anyway,” Lü Chunqiu rolled her eyes, taking photos. “I’ll send these to the brand—they might offer a discount or even a sponsorship, at least we’ll get our faces known.”

Mo Fei, meanwhile, began searching online for alternatives—perhaps a plastic Dzi bead and a leather cord that he could assemble himself for less than ten yuan.

But the slit saw through his little scheme and cut in, “I want the genuine, original one—exactly like yours.”

How else would everyone know this person was under its protection?

Suddenly, breakfast lost its flavor. Mo Fei stared at his soy milk—this was a real money pit. But perhaps it would bring good fortune; a promise made must be kept.

Lü Chunqiu looked at Mo Fei with surprise as he truly began to order a second necklace on his phone. She glanced out the window in disbelief. “Did the sun rise in the east today?” She reached out and pinched Mo Fei’s cheek. “Or has someone swapped out the stingy ghost I know?”

“Don’t mess around,” Mo Fei batted her hand away, eyes glued to his phone. “A promise is a promise, even if it’s to a cat. That’s a good virtue.”

Lü Chunqiu raised an eyebrow in amusement. She liked this stubborn streak of his; if he weren’t a decent person, she’d never be willing to promote someone with such a prickly attitude.

Reclining on the sofa, Lü Chunqiu smiled, “I have some more good news for you. Want to guess?”

Mo Fei’s eyes lit up. “You struck it rich?”

She shook her head.

“I struck it rich?”

She shook her head again.

Mo Fei lost interest immediately. “Then what good news could it be?”

“I’ve terminated my contracts with most of my other artists. From now on, I’ll focus solely on managing you. Isn’t that good news?” Lü Chunqiu said, beaming.