The Drought Demon Detective
His speed in solving cases was astonishing. Whether it was unraveling longstanding mysteries or searching for lost cats and dogs, there seemed to be no case beyond his ability. Yet what most people re
Bright Café stood in the heart of Nanlin City’s busiest commercial street—a favored haunt among the city’s cultured white-collar crowd.
It was half past ten at night. In the quiet hall on the café’s second floor, Li Changqing, a twenty-four-year-old detective in a trench coat, rested his sparse-bearded chin on one hand, while the other lazily stirred the coffee before him with a spoon.
One circle, two circles, three circles...
No one could say how much time passed until the bald, middle-aged, and rather portly proprietor, Gao Mingyong, sitting across the table, could no longer contain his impatience. Li Changqing spoke at last, his tone detached, “Mr. Gao, whether it’s solving a case or fighting a lawsuit, if an employer’s concealment of the facts causes reputational or financial loss to the detective or lawyer they’ve hired, compensation can be very steep.”
“Detective Li, you go too far! If I’ve hired you, that means I trust you completely. Why would I withhold any relevant information?”
“Is that so…”
Li Changqing abruptly stilled his stirring, pressing his chin upward with his hand. There were dark circles beneath his half-lidded eyes, as if he were about to nod off.
With no others in the hall, the silence grew all the heavier.
After a long pause, Gao Mingyong let out a sigh and ruefully rubbed his balding head. “Detective Li, you’re a clever man. I’ll speak plainly—yes, to cut costs, I have been adulterating our second- and third-grade coffees. Nearly half the grounds are actually from three cheap brands out of Alatanban