Zhao Xiaoling received them in the same glass-walled living room where they had first met, but something had changed in her demeanor. The cold composure had cracked, revealing something raw and desperate beneath.
"I know why you're here," she said before Chen Wei could speak. "Su Xue told you about the phone call."
"She did."
Xiaoling walked to the window, her reflection ghostly against the dark glass. "My mother called me that night. She was hysterical, raving about ghosts and vengeance. She said Su Yue had come back from the dead, that she was going to expose everything."
"What did you do?"
"I went to the hotel. I wanted to calm her down, to make her see reason." Xiaoling's voice dropped to a whisper. "But when I got there, she wasn't frightened anymore. She was angry. She said she would handle it herself, the way she had handled everything else. She said some people were expendable, that the world was better off without them."
"She was talking about Su Yue."
"She was talking about me." Xiaoling turned, and Chen Wei saw tears streaming down her face. "She knew, Detective. She knew I had been investigating her, gathering evidence of her crimes. She was going to have me killed, just like she had Su Yue killed. She said Wu Feng would take care of it, that accidents happen all the time."
Chen Wei felt the room grow cold. "What did you do, Miss Zhao?"
"I didn't plan it. I swear I didn't." Xiaoling's hands were shaking now, her carefully constructed facade crumbling. "She turned her back on me, poured herself a drink. She said I was weak, just like my father, just like everyone who had ever disappointed her. She said I didn't have the courage to do what needed to be done."
"And you proved her wrong."
"There was a pillow on the sofa. I picked it up. I just wanted to stop her talking, to make her listen." Xiaoling's voice broke. "I held it over her face. She struggled, but I was stronger than she expected. I've always been stronger than she expected."
The room fell silent except for Xiaoling's ragged breathing. Outside, the wind had picked up, rattling the glass walls of the mansion.
"The lily," Chen Wei said. "The portrait."
"I wanted it to look like Su Xue did it. I knew about the diary, about my mother's guilt. I thought if I made it seem like vengeance, no one would look too closely." Xiaoling laughed bitterly. "Ironic, isn't it? I used my mother's own crimes to cover up my own."
"Why the glass swan?"
"That was an accident. I knocked it off the table when I was leaving. I didn't even notice it was broken until I got home." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm not a monster, Detective. I'm not like her. I just... I couldn't let her destroy me. Not after everything."
Chen Wei stood, his heart heavy. He had solved the mystery, but there was no satisfaction in it-only the hollow ache of tragedy, the sense that everyone involved had been both victim and perpetrator.
"Zhao Xiaoling," he said quietly, "you're under arrest for the murder of Zhao Lihua."