Perfect Crime Chapter 2

That afternoon, Kou and Li went back to town in plainclothes for discreet interviews.

They asked elderly villagers whether a man surnamed Zhao with a wife surnamed Liu had vanished around 2009.

Surprisingly, someone remembered such a couple.

An old man said, “There was a guy named Zhao Quancheng. He used to work odd jobs in the city and came back for festivals. After 2009, we never saw him again. His wife’s name was Liu Lihua.”

Zhao Quancheng and Liu Lihua the names were strikingly close to those in the letter.

And the year matched perfectly.

The coincidence was too strong to ignore.

But according to villagers, Zhao hadn’t been murdered. He had simply left after discovering his wife’s affair. Some said he’d been humiliated and run off. Others whispered darker endings that he’d been killed or died in a work accident far away.

So which version was true?

To verify, the officers continued their quiet interviews.

Most people agreed they hadn’t seen Zhao since 2009. A few insisted he died in an accident; others claimed he’d been murdered by his wife and her lover.

Then rumors resurfaced of a man from a neighboring village, surnamed Chen, who’d been unusually close to Liu Lihua while Zhao was still around.

Whenever Zhao worked away, this Chen visited her house often, helping repair furniture or carry water, staying long hours. The two were seen walking together in the fields and markets, their closeness noted by many.

Villagers hinted bluntly, “They weren’t just friends.”

Zhao had confronted Liu about it, leading to arguments so fierce that neighbors once heard dishes smashing.

Everything matched the names, the gossip, even the timeline.

Only one thing was missing: proof.

Nobody remembered the Chen man’s full name or knew where he’d gone.

Worse, Liu Lihua and her family had moved away soon afterward.

The trail went cold.

Still, Li and Kou decided to make one last stop dinner before heading back.

As they ate, Kou suddenly remembered that the inmate, Liu Yun, had overheard the story in a restaurant.

They began asking around for local eateries that had been running since 2009 and found one, the Harmony Pavilion, run by a man surnamed Wu.

When they mentioned the case, Wu thought for a moment and then said, “Yeah, I remember something about that. You might want to find Hou Wenhai. He used to live right next door to Zhao Quancheng. They were close. He should know more than anyone.”

It was a breakthrough.

Li and Kou immediately started searching for Hou Wenhai.

Though he’d moved, he still lived somewhere in town. It didn’t take them long to find him, and soon, the mystery that had begun as a prison rumor was about to take a startling turn.

At the time, Hou Wenguo was seventy-three years old, a wiry man with sharp eyes and a habit of pausing mid-sentence.

When the detectives mentioned Zhao Quancheng, he sighed, clearly stirred by old memories.

“Back then, we were friendly neighbors,” Hou said. “He often worked out of town but came home for the holidays. And every time he did, he’d drop by to share a drink and talk. The last time we drank together must have been during the National Day festivities in 2009. After that, I never saw him return. A while later, I moved away myself. It’s been more than a decade, and I’ve heard nothing about him since.”

Hou was obviously the closest person to Zhao in those final months.

Commander Kou Jianhua asked if he knew about Zhao’s marriage to Liu Lihua.

“They….. well….. they didn’t get along,” Hou admitted. “Zhao was a good man, but he’d married into her family and had little say in household matters. His wife, Lihua, had a quick temper, and if something bothered her, she’d flare up right away. Folks often heard them shouting at each other.”

“What did they usually fight about?” Kou pressed. He wanted to confirm what many villagers had hinted: that Liu had been romantically involved with another man.

When Kou asked this, Hou’s face stiffened slightly.

“They…. ah…. well….. the reasons…..it’s complicated,” Hou murmured, avoiding eye contact.

His hesitation told Kou there was more than he was willing to say.

“Is it something you feel you shouldn’t talk about?” Kou asked gently.

“It’s just that it’s their private matter,” Hou replied, voice low. “If word got back to her or to her family, it could cause trouble.”

But Kou and Detective Li Wenhao weren’t there for idle chat. They had come for precisely this information.

Kou leaned forward. “Hou, just tell us what you know and what you’ve seen. We will judge for ourselves. You were their neighbor for years; you likely know more than outsiders. If it happened, say so. If it didn’t, that’s fine too.”

Hou’s thin shoulders slumped. He knew that claiming ignorance would not convince anyone, given his closeness to Zhao.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“In the autumn of 2009, shortly after National Day, Zhao had just left for work out of town, but one afternoon, he suddenly showed up again. The moment he walked into the house, he and Lihua were screaming at each other. She stormed out in anger. Later that evening, Zhao came to me, asked me to go with him to the neighboring village, to the home of Ye Minhui, to find his wife.”

At the mention of Ye Minhui’s name, both Kou and Li felt a chill. It matched almost exactly the name from the tip-off letter, except for one character.

This was the missing third figure.

“Did you find her there?” Kou asked quickly.

“Yes. She was at Ye Minhui’s place,” Hou confirmed.

“And the two of them, Lihua and Minhui, did they have a relationship?”

Hou pursed his lips. “I cannot say for sure. But Minhui often visited her. More than once, I saw him driving her places. He also came to help with her farm work. People talked, but I never actually witnessed anything improper, so I cannot accuse them outright.”

Hou was cautious, but Li pressed on.

“What happened after you found her that night?”

“Zhao was furious. He dragged her back home, and they kept arguing along the road. I told him to calm down, warned him not to use his hands, but it didn’t help. Once home, he beat her badly. You could hear the noise from outside.”

“Why didn’t you intervene?” Kou asked.

Hou grimaced. “I wanted to. But once the door closed, it was between husband and wife. And Zhao, well, he was a man. It’s hard to interfere in such matters.”

From Hou’s tone, it was clear he sympathized with Zhao.

“That beating,” Hou admitted, “was severe. She could barely get out of bed for a week afterwards. And after that, I never saw Zhao again.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“I do not. Lihua told me he left for work again. But during New Year, he didn’t come back. I thought maybe he felt too embarrassed to face people, so he stayed away.”

“Did you see him leave?”

Hou hesitated. “I wasn’t paying attention.”