The unit was silent. No lights, no windows, just the stale smell of dust and something else — something heavier. Officers swept their flashlights across the room and froze. In the far corner stood a massive cement block wrapped in canvas, shaped too much like a coffin to be anything else. When detectives chipped away the cement, inch by inch, the horror became unmistakable: a woman’s body, folded and packed inside with chilling precision, as if someone had built the coffin around her while the concrete was still wet. Surveillance later revealed shadowy figures dragging heavy bags into the unit days earlier, their faces hidden, their movements calm — almost practiced. And every step of the crime, from the rental to the materials to the timing, suggested one thing: This wasn’t just murder. It was a burial planned long before she ever went missing. Full story 👇👇
2025/11/20
“Concrete Coffin in Tsuen Wan: The Body Sealed Alive”
1) The Disappearing Text
It began with a simple text message. A late evening ping. A plea for help.
On 4 March 2016 a man, 28-year-old Zhang Wanli (alias), vanished after entering the industrial-style building on Hui Yao Jiao Street in Tsuen Wan.
He walked into the elevator at 1 p.m., accompanied by two men. Shortly after, only those two men were seen leaving.
His phone last pinged from that very block.
And no one heard from him again.
What if the last text you send never gets a reply — but the building you enter never lets you leave?
2) The Building Nobody Watched
Tsuen Wan’s DAN6 building was unremarkable: a mixed industrial/office block with narrow corridors, elevators often crowded, a place where anonymity thrives.
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