Chapter 11

“Why didn’t you keep chasing her?” Wan Yi watched the exit approach, tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m fine. Already feeling better. Cough, cough.“

“We’re going to the clinic. I need to be sure.” Nie Fanxin’s frown deepened with each cough, her worry plain as day.

Wan Yi felt a swell of warmth. The initial discomfort had eased somewhat. She rummaged through her bag for her oral medication and took two pills with water from her thermos.

Night thickened. The cold moon hid behind dense clouds. Everything seemed wrapped in a thin haze of gray. City streets buzzed with traffic. Nie Fanxin overtook cars smoothly, careful to avoid jolts, and finally pulled up outside Lin’an Clinic.

She unbuckled and got out, circling to the passenger door. “Can you walk? Otherwise I’ll carry you.”

“I’m not that bad.” Wan Yi nudged her aside and stepped out, her tired smile in place. “I told you, I’m better.”

Nie Fanxin closed the door behind her. “Still need Doctor Yang to take a look.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Good.” Nie Fanxin easily matched the pace of the slower woman.

While Doctor Yang examined Wan Yi, Nie Fanxin stood outside the curtain and took two calls. The first was from Chen Anyou, saying the colleagues tailing her had lost her. The second was Chu Wanning.

“The plate is fake. Fanxin, how’s Xiaoyu?”

“Her old condition flaring up. The doctor’s checking.”

“Where are you? I’m coming.”

Nie Fanxin thought the distance too far and, worried about her rushing about and tiring herself out, suggested: “Sister Wanning, you just got out of a meeting. Go eat and rest. She’s okay.”

“It’s fine. I have bread in the car.”

Nie Fanxin muttered, “Bread all the time is bad for you.”

“Only occasionally. It’s no big deal. Fanxin, you said Xiaoyu was only hospitalized last month—that’s a bit frequent. I’ve been worried about her too. Besides, you two haven’t eaten, right? I’ll bring something warm on the way.”

Nie Fanxin stopped declining and sent her the location. Her heart went completely soft. Sister Wanning is still the same as she was back then—she cares about us, she values us. Even after three years apart, our bond hasn’t changed.

Doctor Yang pulled back the curtain and instructed, “Xiaowan, take care of yourself. Especially with this cold snap. Don’t shed layers casually.”

Wan Yi was rebuttoning her sweater at an unhurried pace. A hint of color had returned to her pale face. “Thank you, Doctor Yang. I must have caught a chill working by the river yesterday.”

Nie Fanxin exposed her: “She stays indoors, but the moment she gets hot, she takes off her coat.”

“Try not to. Just undo a button or loosen the collar.” Doctor Yang packed up her tools and smiled. “Xiaowan, you’re a doctor too. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Nie Fanxin shot Wan Yi a glare. “Better yet, don’t undo any buttons.”

Doctor Yang shook her head. “That won’t do either. Getting too hot or stuffy can also affect her condition.”

Wan Yi had originally been named Wan Yuxi. At age six, during the winter, she caught a cold that dragged on for two weeks without improvement. Multiple hospitals and clinics brought temporary relief, but symptoms returned within a week. Doctor Yang’s mother eventually made a definitive diagnosis: bronchial asthma.

At its worst, the doctors issued a critical condition notice. Thankfully, over those two nights, several elders took turns keeping watch, and she pulled through. After discharge, the family changed her name to Wan Yi.

Now, asthma attacks still happened, but she carried medication, so they were rarely life-threatening.

At 7:50 p.m., Nie Fanxin and Wan Yi left the clinic and found a nearby tea house to wait. They’d agreed with Wan Tong not to mention the episode to the rest of the family, only that they’d be home late.

Nie Fanxin had just hung up when Chu Wanning pushed through the frosted door carrying two bags of food.

“Sister Wanning.” Nie Fanxin’s voice brightened as she beckoned the travel-worn figure at the door to come in.

Wan Yi pressed her lips together and asked, “What would you like to drink?”

Chu Wanning took the seat they’d left for her and countered with a question: “Xiaoyu, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Nothing serious.” Wan Yi’s eyes held a faint smile, her spirits much improved.

As the two chatted, Nie Fanxin kept her head lowered, helping Chu Wanning choose: “Strong tea at night isn’t good for sleep. How about honey citron tea?”

“Sounds good.”

Chu Wanning had thoughtfully ordered congee for Wan Yi, a Hunan-style pork stir-fry clay pot rice for Nie Fanxin, and braised pork rice for herself. The three ate in comfortable silence, with occasional exchanges about the case.

After the meal, just as Chu Wanning reached for the bill, Little Liang called.

“Captain Chu, at 11:40 that night, Hu Hua’s car was spotted in the outer section of Bajiao Street.”

“Hu Hua?”

Little Liang continued: “The convenience store camera near the scene also picked up Hu Hua’s car.”

While Chu Wanning was still on the call, Wan Yi’s phone rang. It was the duty officer at the institute.

“Forensic Doctor Wan, the Nanyun branch sent over a vehicle for testing.”

Nie Fanxin leaned in front of Wan Yi, snatched the phone, and said into it, “Forensic Doctor Wan is unwell. Find someone else.”

“But the other researchers are either busy or live too far away. Forensic Doctor Wan, you know Professor Nie so well. Could you…”

“I’ll handle it.”

The duty officer was relieved. “Wonderful.”

Around ten o’clock, Chu Wanning’s car pulled into the research institute’s grounds and came to a stop. Wan Yi, who’d napped briefly on the way, got out holding the hand warmer Nie Fanxin had bought, and the three walked toward Hu Hua’s car.

Chen Anyou opened the trunk. “This is the one. From the looks of it, he didn’t have time to wash it.”

Wan Yi accepted the rubber gloves from the duty officer and, half-bent at the waist with her deep eyes slightly lowered, carefully examined every corner of the trunk.

“Little Wang, evidence bag.”

Seconds later, Wan Yi stood, holding a sealed bag containing a single strand of short hair.

Nie Fanxin asked, “Whose is it?”

“We’ll need to test it. Naturally shed hair usually doesn’t yield DNA, but this one has the root attached.” Wan Yi handed the bag to the duty officer, then continued, “Give me an oil blotting sheet.”

Chu Wanning looked puzzled as Wan Yi pressed the sheet flat and swept it from left to right. “What’s that for?”

“If Lu Zhenglin was in the car at the time, he would have left sebum secretions.”

Nie Fanxin was surprised too. “You can detect secretions from days ago?”

All business, Wan Yi stood straight and replied coolly, “Yes. Lu Zhenglin died of hyperthermia, which increases sebum secretion.” She folded the sheet into another evidence bag and handed it over.

Chu Wanning checked her watch, matching Wan Yi’s professional tone: “How long for results?”

“Give me half an hour.” Wan Yi stripped off the gloves and headed for the lab building.