The sky didn’t know whether Julian Grant was hiding behind the screen watching the monitor at this moment, but she felt he was. She returned to her room to grab a jacket, put it on neatly, then stood straight in front of the camera, as if she were being inspected, and gave a salute.

This scene looked a bit comical, so much so that even 穹苍 herself laughed out loud.

Her original plan today was to go to Harry Forrest’s crime scene for an on-site investigation, but Mrs. Grant’s sudden visit had slightly disrupted her schedule—though not by much. There was still plenty of time, so she could make it.

Passing by the shoe cabinet, 穹苍 learned from last time’s experience and casually took the umbrella leaning by the door.

Even if it couldn’t block the rain, it could at least shield her from the sun.

After double-checking that she hadn’t left anything behind, 穹苍 set out lightly and simply.

Chapter 111 Then

Not long after 穹苍 left, the sky was covered by a huge cloud. The sun shrank behind the dark clouds, casting a shadow.

She hailed a taxi, gave the address, then leaned back with her eyes closed, waiting.

The scene of the Harry Forrest incident was located in a commercial area near the edge of the city. After years of development, there were now fairly mature shopping streets nearby, and with several universities in the area, the foot traffic was relatively stable. But more than a decade ago, this place was just an emerging economic development zone, not nearly as popular as it is now. Many old buildings still remained, showing how desolate it once was.

Behind the bustling streets were all sorts of old buildings, crisscrossed with roads and in disrepair.

穹苍 paid the fare and, on the way, bought a few white chrysanthemums from a small flower shop by the street, then walked into the winding alleys.

Even phone GPS was useless in such a complex and intricate area. Looking at the random, branching intersections, 穹苍 found herself a bit lost.

The planning of this old district wasn’t very reasonable. Many houses didn’t have number plates, or even if two houses were next to each other, a single corner could cause the numbers to change drastically.

She wandered around the neighborhood for half an hour, and with the help of the map, finally got familiar with a few key locations and the routes between them.

—The camera shop run by Grandma Summers, Marcus Carter’s old house, the spot where a man dressed similarly to Harry Forrest had appeared, and the site where the victimized reporter died. Strangely, these locations weren’t in the same direction.

In her mind, 穹苍 mapped out the area, various lines of different lengths weaving before her eyes, finally forming a flat map more intuitive than any app.

With the tip of her umbrella, 穹苍 connected several locations in the air, leading toward the main street’s exit. Looking at the final, winding lines, she showed a half-smile.

Nearby, an elderly lady sat at her door in the sun with a small stool, watching her stand, gaze into the distance, wave her umbrella, and smile oddly. She felt a surge of sympathy for a fool.

Poor thing. So young.

Seeing that 穹苍 was about to head further in, she called out, “Young lady, where are you going?”

Only then did 穹苍 notice her, pointed ahead, and said, “Up there.”

“There’s construction up ahead, the road’s blocked by sand, you can’t get through here.” The old lady waved her hand, her accent thick, and reminded her, “Further in, someone died there years ago. It’s haunted and deserted, the road’s been closed for ages. Are you trying to go there? You have to go around the side. That way, over there.”

穹苍 glanced in the direction she pointed, but didn’t go right away. Instead, she tapped the ground with her umbrella and walked over to chat, “Granny, have you lived here long?”

“Yes.” The old lady nodded, a bit slow to react. After a while, she processed the question and replied, “I’ve been in this old place for decades. Where could I move? Can’t move anymore.”

穹苍 half-squatted so the lady could see her better, and asked, “So, when someone died here back then, you were here too?”

“I was. Didn’t see it, though.” Her lips moved, letting out a few unintelligible grunts, and she muttered, “Heard it was a terrible death… I didn’t look… too creepy.”

Most of the residents here were elderly or children; the young had long gone to brighter places. They might have lived here all their lives, knowing every detail of these alleys.

The old lady bent down, picked up a dustpan from the ground, and with her withered hands, fiddled with the beans inside. She glanced at 穹苍 and said, “You’re here to ask about that too.”

“Someone else came?” 穹苍’s eyes flickered, then she understood, “Reporters and police, right? This case has gotten attention again lately.”

“Not the same, not like them.” The old lady pursed her lips, glancing at the white chrysanthemums in 穹苍’s hand, “You’re not here to ask, you’re here to leave flowers.”

穹苍 was a bit surprised, looking down at the white chrysanthemums in her hand. A faint fragrance floated in the air, and up close, she could smell a wisp of freshness.

Usually, the victim’s family would go to the grave to pay respects; few would choose to mourn at the scene of the crime. The pain of the past was too much, likely to trigger grief.

Those who came to such places were mostly people who couldn’t bear it and felt guilty. Maybe they couldn’t bring themselves to visit the grave, but kept coming back here, hoping to find the source of the tragedy.

穹苍’s fingers tightened, crumpling the plastic wrapping around the bouquet.

She could guess who that person was, and couldn’t help but lower her voice, “Does she come often?”

“What do you mean, often…” The old lady’s dentures nearly slipped out as she spoke; she quickly pushed them back in place and continued, “She comes a few times a year when she can, puts down some flowers, or helps clean up. It’s a mess over there, always dirty, and every time she comes, she’s busy for ages. I don’t know who she is, but seeing how sad she looks, she must be family of that girl… Sigh, but she hasn’t come in a long time. I haven’t seen her this year.”

穹苍 realized she didn’t really know Logan Carter that well. She didn’t know what that seemingly frail woman had been doing, or what responsibilities she was trying to bear. She always faced others with a smile that seemed to embrace everything, leaving the harshest, even bloodiest side for herself.

She left a lot for 穹苍, but back then, like many others, 穹苍 didn’t understand what was behind her care and gentleness, so she couldn’t do anything for her.

It wasn’t until later that, clumsy as she was, she began to be surrounded by ever-growing guilt—“That is the guilt of the fortunate toward the unfortunate.”

穹苍’s throat was dry, and after a long pause, she said in a low voice, “She won’t be able to come anymore.”

The old lady sighed softly, shaking her head in pity, “Still so young.”

She seemed to remember something and added, “Just now, a young couple went in too, dressed all mysterious. Do you know them?”

穹苍 paused, turned to look into the depths of the alley, pressed her lips together, then vaguely replied, “I think so. I’ll go take a look.”

With the bouquet in one hand, 穹苍 turned and walked in the direction the old lady had indicated. After a few turns, she reached the crime scene.

The place where the reporter died was now rarely visited. It wasn’t far from the main road; back then, the victim had probably run in from the street to escape the rain, only to meet misfortune. After her death, the whole alley was sealed off for investigation, and the nearby residents, unable to overcome their psychological barriers, moved away. The road was left completely abandoned.

With no one to clean it, the mottled high walls on either side were covered in green moss, and the air was filled with the stench of sewage. The ground was uneven, and some residents had dumped discarded furniture here, leaving a few moldy planks behind.

穹苍 stood under a small pavilion—perhaps “rain shelter” was a better word—at the foot of the steps, unable to picture what this dilapidated structure looked like more than a decade ago.

After so long, it was unlikely any clues remained.

She gently placed the flowers on the ground, looked around, and found some footprints. Following the direction of the tracks, she walked on.

穹苍 didn’t walk fast, quietly sorting out her thoughts. She wasn’t in a hurry; if Harry Forrest wanted to see her, he would surely wait ahead.

She tapped her umbrella rhythmically on the ground, and as she rounded a corner, as expected, she saw a pair of black shoes.

穹苍’s gaze slowly moved upward, finally settling on Harry Forrest’s masked face.

Last time they met, 穹苍 hadn’t had a chance to really look at him; this time, she finally could.

Harry Forrest’s hair was a bit longer than before he disappeared, slightly covering his eyes. He was noticeably thinner, making his eye sockets look even deeper. He stood straight, his smooth muscle lines and the ever-present wariness in his posture making him look like a lone wolf, always ready to strike.

Standing opposite him, 穹苍 quietly met his gaze, but couldn’t read his thoughts from his eyes.