Li Zhaoheng stared at Shen Wangjing for a long time without responding.
Every piece of evidence concerning Shen Yuxing in the documents matched the surveillance footage and the timeline. None of it could have been fabricated.
For a child from a remote mountain village to manipulate things right under the Jiang family's nose and then leave himself entirely in the clear afterward, his cunning and methods far surpassed those of his peers.
Li Zhaoheng could guess most of what Jiang Yu had done to Shen Yuxing in the Jiang household. Living under someone else's roof and facing a spoiled fake young master, the boy had probably suffered even more than the documents described.
The drugging seemed ruthless, but ultimately, it was a case of baring his claws only after being backed into a corner.
Yet that ruthlessness did not match the meek, timid Shen Yuxing with outstanding grades whom his secretary had investigated.
Among the things Li Zhaoheng had uncovered was an old file from Shiban Village Primary School.
The wish seven-year-old Shen Yuxing had written on his first day of school was: When I grow up, I'll buy my brother lots and lots of new clothes, so he won't have to hide the holes in his sleeves anymore.
When Li Zhaoheng looked up again, much of the scrutiny and calculation in his eyes had faded.
"Sooner or later, I'll need a full account of what happened with your brother." His voice deepened. "For now, let's talk about you. How exactly did your father die?"
Shen Wangjing stood there with his back straight, his Adam's apple bobbing ever so slightly.
"That day, Shen Dayong came back."
From the moment Shen Yuxing could walk, he had been Shen Wangjing's little shadow.
When his brother chopped firewood, he carried the split sticks.