A madman in France? How come he's always at crime scenes!

Jiang Cuilan's identification report was spread out on the table.

Paranoid schizophrenia, with a course of illness of at least twenty years. There was a history of mild mental abnormalities before the abduction, which later worsened rapidly.

However, one thing is certain: all prescriptions over the past decade or so have been issued under the name of Ni Dayong, with the earliest purchase record dating back to June 2004, more than a year after Sha Yuanbao's death.

Wu Liang lit a cigarette and stared at the ceiling.

Ni Dayong made it very clear to him at the hospital that Ding Hu had been coming to his door every few days to ask for money ever since the Sha Yuanbao incident, for more than ten years.

However, after searching through all the materials, there is not a single piece of objective evidence to prove this.

Ding Hu only accepts cash; he never transfers money, never issues IOUs, and has never even sent a proper threatening text message.

"This guy must have been a spy in his past life," Wu Liang said, stubbing out his cigarette.

Zhang Jiajing looked up from her collection of criminal law exam questions. The exam was in two days, and her dark circles had deepened even further.

"Boss, what are you muttering about?"

"I'm pondering a philosophical question."

"What?"

"How come I, a proper lawyer, am doing criminal investigation work every day?"

Zhang Jiajing thought about it seriously: "It might be retribution."

"...Do you still want to pass the bar exam?"

"I've thought about it." Zhang Jiajing quickly lowered her head, scribbled a couple of lines on the paper with her pen, then stopped. "Boss, are you going out again today?"

Wu Liang had already picked up his coat: "Let's go to the Green Garden residential area."

"Going again? Wasn't Zhou Hai's case closed?"

"I'm not going to talk to Zhou Hai this time." Wu Liang put his phone in his pocket. "I'll chat with Ding Hu's neighbors."

Zhang Jiajing blinked, then suddenly realized: "Oh! You want to dig up dirt on Ding Hu, and then help Ni Dayong—"

"What 'dirt' or 'dirt' stuff?" Wu Liangyi interrupted her sternly. "What I'm doing is going into the community to understand the client's social relationships; it's a necessary part of defense work. Can you use more professional language?"

"Isn't that still digging up dirt on people?"

……

The Green Garden residential area remains the same as always. In the guard room at the entrance, Grandpa Wang is fanning himself with a palm leaf fan while listening to a storyteller, Shan Tianfang's smoky and drunken voice is just getting to the crucial point.

Wu Liang poked his head out of the duty room window.

"Uncle Wang, do you still remember me?"

Grandpa Wang raised his eyelids, pausing his fan for a moment: "Aren't you the lawyer who drove us last time?"

"...Your memory is amazing."

"That's right, I've never seen anyone take a picture while lying in a pool of blood in my life, it's unforgettable."

Grandpa Wang turned the radio volume down. "Another case investigation? How come you, a lawyer, are running around more often than the police?"

Wu Liang looked around and lowered his voice, "Sir, this isn't business. I'm just taking a stroll. Please don't tell anyone I'm a lawyer."

Grandpa Wang looked him up and down, then started fanning himself with his palm-leaf fan again.

"Fine, I'll keep quiet. But with you dressed like that, those older women have sharp eyes."

Wu Liang looked down at himself; his shirt, trousers, and leather shoes did indeed seem out of place in this old neighborhood.

So he simply took off his coat and draped it over his arm, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and ruffled his hair a little.

Grandpa Wang watched his performance and offered his thoughtful critique.

"He's a bit like a thug."

"Sir, we can't judge a book by its cover."

……

The small square in the Green Garden residential area is located between Building 4 and Building 5, where several large locust trees provide shade.

Wu Liang glanced at it from afar.

A group of middle-aged women were playing mahjong together, and the sound of the tiles being slammed onto the table was quite loud.

He casually strolled over to the mahjong table with his hands behind his back, pretending to look at the tiles.

A middle-aged woman in a floral shirt played a three-of-a-kind, and the middle-aged woman with curly hair opposite her immediately pushed forward her tiles, shouting, "I win!"

"Oh dear, my luck is terrible today—"

"What luck? You always talk about luck."

Wu Liang seized the opportunity and chimed in from the side, "Oh dear, he was supposed to be hitting the fourth tile, but he got winded!"

Upon hearing this, the woman in the floral shirt carefully examined her hand and clapped her hands forcefully.

"Oh dear! Yes, I didn't see it!"

He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over Wu Liang: "Young man, where are you from? You look unfamiliar."

"I'm Ding Hu's friend," Wu Liang said with a simple smile. "We used to do business together. I heard he had an accident, so I came to check on him. When I got here, I realized I'd even forgotten which building his wife lived in."

The hands on the card table stopped simultaneously.

"Looking at his? Well, you've come at a bad time; he's been gone for days."

"I know." Wu Liang sighed, his expression perfectly measured. "I just felt it was all too sudden, so I came to ask my sister-in-law about the situation and see if there was anything I could do to help."

The curly-haired woman exhaled through her nose but didn't reply.

A thin, middle-aged woman who was watching nearby spoke up: "Help? Young man, are you here to collect a debt?"

Wu Liang was taken aback; this reaction was not what he had expected.

"Auntie, what do you mean by that?"

"You did business with him?" The thin woman looked at Wu Liang with a hint of pity in her eyes. "How much did you lose?"

The people at the card table chuckled softly.

Wu Liangpin has figured out the flavor.

These middle-aged women seem to have a very high degree of agreement on Ding Hu.

The woman in the floral shirt started arranging the cards again: "If you ask me, you shouldn't bother looking for Wang Li anymore. That woman may cry, but she's stubborn as an idiot. Ask her anything, and she'll say she doesn't know. What her husband does outside, she either really doesn't know, or she pretends not to know."

"Aunt Liu is gone, and now that Ding guy has died like this, their family is really cursed." The curly-haired woman chimed in, though there was little sympathy in her voice.

Wu Liang didn't press the matter further.

In this kind of chat atmosphere, if you're in a hurry, you'll run out of things to say.

The woman in the floral shirt slammed the cards on the table, her voice even louder than before:

"Young man, to be honest, you've wasted your time today. Everyone in the neighborhood knows Ding Hu. If Aunt Liu hadn't gotten into trouble, would he even show his face?"

Wu Liang draped his arm over the back of the chair, looking on with disbelief: "Really? He was bragging to me when we were drinking earlier, saying he was very popular."

Another burst of laughter erupted at the card table.

Wu Liang pretended not to believe him and casually asked, "What about your sister-in-law? She's alright, isn't she?"

The laughter suddenly subsided, and the group of middle-aged women exchanged glances.

"Xiao Li..." The woman in the floral shirt picked up another card, her tone suddenly becoming vague, "She's not a bad person, but you know about Liu Ma's situation. She takes care of her all by herself, while Ding Hu is always running around outside and doesn't care about anything at home."

"Running away?"

"He's always running around," the thin middle-aged woman chimed in, cracking sunflower seeds. "He's practically never home..."

Wu Liang turned his head slightly and noticed that the curly-haired woman gently kicked the thin woman under the table.

The skinny middle-aged woman paused for a moment while cracking sunflower seeds, then added, "Anyway, everyone in the neighborhood knows."

"Know what?" Wu Liang asked casually, as if just picking up a conversation.

The thin woman didn't reply and continued eating sunflower seeds with her head down.

The atmosphere suddenly changed, and the mahjong tiles were being rubbed loudly.

The woman in the floral shirt cleared her throat and abruptly changed the subject:

"Oops, this hand is all wind cards—"