Qin Guan rushed home directly.
To avoid detection, he took a taxi.
Upstairs, he opened the door to a silent house. The dining table held leftover breakfast pancakes, not the lavish lunch he'd imagined. All three were out.
Good. He had the place to himself.
Placing the cake on the table, Qin Guan surveyed the pristine rooms—Xu Ruyi's obsession with order and Auntie Feng's diligence kept everything immaculate. Xu Ruyi's belongings were always neatly stored, mostly in the living room coffee table drawers.
He rifled through the drawers. No car keys. Just everyday items.
In their daughter's room, he searched every shelf and book. Xu Ruyi had been sleeping here recently. On the nightstand lay her dog-eared Zhang Xiaoxian novel—sentimental drivel about love, the kind only a sheltered woman like her would indulge in. Qin Guan scoffed, flipping through its pages.
Her laptop revealed nothing—photos of family outings, children's drawings, work-related tabs.
The study, his domain, held no clues. His computer, password-protected, showed no signs of her use.
Yet the question gnawed: How did she get the car key?
His gaze landed on the hefty legal tome in the bookcase. Closing the door, he pulled it down. Inside lay Qi Min's phone—the one he'd used to fake her messages and social media posts, creating an alibi. If Xu Ruyi had discovered his secret, this phone would be the key.
But the phone remained untouched. Qin Guan retrieved it, inserted the SIM card he'd hidden separately, and powered it on. He'd dispose of it soon—Qi Min's return meant this liability had to vanish.
Notifications flooded in: spam texts and eight messages from a local number.
"Keys ready. When pickup? No calls? Still owe payment. Don't screw me."
Keys?
Qin Guan dialed the number. A mechanic answered, thick regional accent dripping with frustration: "Yeah, we make keys. What'cha need?"
"A friend recommended you—Xu Ruyi?"
The man hesitated. "Xu Ruyi? Don't recall. But your colleague Qi Min—she ordered a key months ago! Never picked it up! No deposit, just ghosted. I'm out cash here!"
The repair shop, tucked in a grimy alley, reeked of grease. The mechanic, wiping oily hands, nodded at Qi Min's photo.
"Pretty lady. Paid upfront for a Toyota key two months back. Then last month ordered another—Cadillac this time. No deposit, trusted her 'cause she paid quick before."
He slapped a shiny key into Qin Guan's palm.
Qin Guan's throat dried.
It was a Cadillac key.
Xu Ruyi drove a Cadillac.