Chapter 12

Wan Tong had just stepped out of the car when she saw a figure in a black T-shirt sneaking around the corner behind someone. A police officer’s instincts told her the person ahead was in danger.

She raced over in three strides. The shadow had already covered the woman’s mouth. As she struggled, the victim crashed into the iron door beside her.

Brother Li, the auxiliary officer, hurried after Wan Tong and shouted in a deep voice, “Police! Don’t move!”

Wan Tong was already on the attacker. She bent her knee and drove it into the back of his, then twisted his arm behind him in a swift, clean takedown.

“Thank you.” Nie Zhiyan straightened up, one hand over her arm. She looked a little pained.

In the darkness, Wan Tong used the moonlight to make out her face. Her expression tightened with worry. “Forensic Doctor Nie, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’ll deal with it later. I need to use the restroom first.”

Wan Tong nodded. Still worried, she waited outside the restroom. The officers upstairs heard the commotion and hurried down, their footsteps rustling along the stairs.

“What happened?”

“Assaulting a police officer.” Wan Tong grabbed the man by the collar and handed him over to the local police. He began mumbling, “Ah, ah, ah-ah-ah.”

“Isn’t that Yang Fan? He did a good deed yesterday. There’s something wrong with his mind. He has good days and bad days, and he likes to fool around with people. The other day he threw pebbles at some classmates, and their parents came to complain. We couldn’t do much about it.”

The officer released him and told him to go home.

The boy nodded obediently, then turned and almost skipped out of sight. When he reached the corner, he paused for two seconds before walking briskly into the darkness.

Nie Zhiyan came out of the restroom. Wan Tong saw that blood was still welling from several places on her pale left arm. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep.

“Is there a clinic nearby?” Wan Tong asked the local officer, her face full of concern.

“Turn right when you leave. There’s a health clinic a hundred meters down. It closes at eight-thirty. You’d better hurry.”

Wan Tong thanked him and told Brother Li to take the flash drive and screenshots from the gas station to Nie Zhilan. Before she could finish, Nie Zhiyan moved two steps toward the stairs, as if she meant to follow him up. Wan Tong froze, then reached out to stop her.

“Aunt Yan, you need a tetanus shot.”

“No.” The refusal left no room for argument.

“The wound isn’t deep, but you hit an iron door. It could be rusty.”

“I know.”

“Come on. You have to go.”

They tugged at each other like children squabbling.

“Aunt Yan, you know better than I do how deadly tetanus can be. Better safe than sorry. Or are you afraid of needles?”

…

Wan Tong stared into her eyes without blinking. Nie Zhiyan had no choice. She slowly pulled her hand free and said coolly, “Let’s go.”

She took a few steps, then stopped, as if she’d remembered something. She turned around, her long, narrow brows lifting slightly.

“And who gave you permission to call me Aunt Yan?”

The local health clinic was poorly equipped and short-staffed, so Nie Zhiyan cleaned and disinfected the wound herself.

She looked cool and calm, so she wasn’t afraid of pain, Wan Tong thought. But when the doctor brought out a tray with a five-milliliter syringe full of medicine, Nie Zhiyan looked away. She didn’t watch. After the doctor finished disinfecting the wound, the needle slipped into her skin. Her slender fingers curled, then grabbed Wan Tong’s arm. Wan Tong could clearly feel her trembling. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Nie Zhiyan’s forehead almost at once.

Aunt Yan really is afraid of needles…

They got back to the township police station around 8:30. Nie Zhilan, Ma Zhao, Zhu Fang, and several other officers were coming downstairs.

“How is she?”

“Fine. She got a shot.” Wan Tong went to meet them and took Nie Zhiyan’s investigation kit.

“A shot?” Nie Zhilan looked at her sister in disbelief. Nie Zhiyan pressed her lips together and ignored her.

“Let’s go to Wang Bin’s place. The search warrant came through.”

Wang Bin’s home was at No. 34 Xiyangkou, about five kilometers from the Marriage Tree and less than one kilometer from the burial site on Ximeng Mountain. Eight of them rode over and arrived seven minutes later. Wang Bin, his wife, and their son were visiting relatives, leaving only his elderly father at home. The old man opened the door.

“We’re police officers. We need to look for something that may be in your home.” Ma Zhao showed his police ID.

Wang Bin’s father wasn’t stupid. He sensed something was wrong and grew anxious. “Officer, my son’s a good, filial man. He’s always helping others. He wouldn’t do anything bad.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We’re just going to have a look around.” Zhu Fang stepped up and took his wrinkled hand, reassuring him.

Nie Zhiyan and five others put on gloves and went inside. They split into pairs and began searching each room carefully.

The small bedroom belonged to Wang Bin’s father and son. The old man doted on his grandson. Certificates covered one wall. The room was simple but warm.

“My grandson’s a good boy. He’s won the ‘Outstanding Student’ award in his class every year. He says he wants to grow up like his father and help more people.”

“Help people?”

“My son, Wang Bin, worked at the factory. His wife teaches at the township middle school. Their combined wages aren’t low, but they’ve spent so much helping children with school and daily expenses that they never saved anything. They didn’t plan to buy a new house. They’ve always lived in this old place.” The old man opened a box. “Look, here are the money transfer receipts from every month. And there are letters from lots of children.”

Nie Zhiyan picked up a stack and opened one. The yellowed sheets of paper felt as heavy as stone in her hand.

Her voice caught as she lowered it. “Sir, please let me look under the bed.”

“There’s nothing under there…”

The next moment, Nie Zhiyan lifted the bed skirt and unzipped a blue woven bag. Two shirts and a pair of pants appeared inside.

“This is…”

Zhu Fang recognized them at once. “These are what Lin Shengfu was wearing that day.”

Nie Zhiyan’s hand paused. She pulled the bag out, her expression darkening. A minute earlier, she’d been hoping Wang Bin was innocent, hoping he’d have more time to help those children.

“Sir, would you come over here for a moment?” Nie Zhiyan had noticed that the objects atop the wardrobe were out of place. She brought over a stool and climbed up. Her height let her see the top. She moved aside a few books and two boxes, revealing a hollow in the wall about twenty centimeters across.

“That hole’s been there for a long time,” the old man said hurriedly.

“There’s dust all over the wardrobe, but not beside the books and boxes, or inside the hole where the clock’s gears turn the hands.” Nie Zhiyan sighed and slowly stepped down from the stool. “Officer Zhu, please take the large clock off the living-room wall.”

In another room, Wan Tong had searched for a long time without finding anything. A wedding portrait of the couple hung above the bed. Wang Bin stood on the left, his arm around his wife’s waist, the two of them close together. Wan Tong’s gaze fell on the smooth skin behind his ear. There wasn’t a single birthmark.

What about the two moles? Could photo studios already retouch birthmarks in the early 2000s?