This entire book suffers from one of the things I hate the most about detective fiction: cops. It's not that the protagonist works with the cops because the protagonist is a cop. He's the Chief Inspector of the Shanghai Police, and he works within the Communist Party of China.

Despite that, the story was initially interesting. The confused exploration around Chairman Mao (as the book was "for those who had been harmed by Mao") was also interesting as an idea... Especially as there are two separate but intertwined mysteries that are presented: one related to Chairman Mao and one related to Jiao, who is the fictional granddaughter of a fictional actress who was one of Mao's mistresses. She supposedly, according to a minister in Beijing, has "Mao material" that has enabled her to improve her life from that of a humble secretary to a rich young woman. I liked this premise because it did initially highlight the paranoia of having to maintain the image of someone like Mao (something that has been done), and it really could've been an engaging story to explore both the harms of Mao (something this book claimed it would do) and the mystery around Jiao.

However, the author basically throws away in the final two chapters when he grabs for an absurd ableist trope (multiple personality disorder) along with a terrible explanation that does incredibly little to settle anything with regards to either the mystery about Jiao (which also includes two subsequent murders) and does absolutely nothing to settle the exploration around Mao. The cop acts as a cop would (including doing nothing while a woman is being murdered except hide in the closet), and he does nothing to even really consider his place in the system that he's been quasi-questioning throughout the exploration.

On top of the terrible editing (and it is among one of the worst books I've read), it's a work that is so engaging only to slap the audience in the face with the most stereotypical of "twists" and a failure to do whatever it claimed it set out to do.