Chapter 2

Criminal police officers inevitably pick up some forensic and trace evidence knowledge. Chen Anyou wasn’t wrong; the deceased showed no signs of coercion injuries, restraint marks, or defensive wounds. And Nie Fanxin’s inference about the victim’s background from small details was equally valid.

The moment the voice faded, everyone instinctively turned toward its source. In their line of sight, a figure crouched beside the right side of the body slowly straightened, steadying herself for a moment before turning around. She was tall and striking, her shoulder-length hair half-tied back, dressed in a dark blue suit. As she walked over, she peeled off her sterile gloves and mask and tossed them, seemingly casually but with perfect accuracy, into the temporary evidence waste pile.

The woman was Wan Yi—Nie Fanxin’s older cousin, though not by blood. Nie Fanxin had once assumed she, too, had been carried to term by Wan Tong or Nie Zhiyan through scientific means. Only in adulthood did she learn that Wan Yi was actually the child of Wan Tong’s older cousin’s second aunt’s daughter. Her parents had died in a car accident when complications arose during delivery. Wan Tong took the infant in and raised her, though her household registration remained far away in Hucheng, with no formal adoption procedures. Wan Tong found the paperwork troublesome and considered it a mere formality, signing only a guardianship certificate. The elders never hid the truth from Wan Yi. Every holiday, they took her to Hucheng to visit her surviving maternal grandmother and sweep her parents’ graves.

Back to the present. Up close, in the sunlight, Wan Yi’s delicate features seemed veiled in a pallor of ill health. Her pale red lips parted and closed, her speech slower than most yet measured, rational, and with a weight that commanded attention.

“The body’s surface is intact with no external injuries. The livor mortis is dark red, which rules out death by freezing and mechanical asphyxia such as manual strangulation. Secondary livor mortis appears on the limbs and chest, indicating the body was moved significantly at some point. This is not the primary crime scene.”

With freezing ruled out and the scene confirmed as a dump site, the case was effectively a homicide. Chen Anyou, who’d enjoyed a peaceful half year, refused to accept it until the last moment. He asked in a low voice, “Forensic Doctor Wan, why rule out freezing?”

Wan Yi replied, “In death by freezing, the livor mortis is bright red, rigor mortis sets in late, fades slowly, and remains rigid, and the body would show signs of frostbite such as blisters. The deceased exhibits none of these indicators.”

“That makes sense now. Thank you, Forensic Doctor Wan.” Chen Anyou flashed her a silly grin and called Little Liang over to get to work. “Captain Chu, leave the victim identification to us. We’ll have it wrapped up within two hours.”

Though it sounded like boasting, Chu Wanning nodded in acknowledgment. Once the two were gone, her frown returned as she asked worriedly, “Xiaoyu, based on your experience, what do you think the cause of death might be?”

Chu Wanning had majored in criminal investigation, spent seven years on the investigation team of the Changyun County Criminal Investigation Brigade, and three years ago had left the unit on a special assignment. She’d handled fewer than seven homicide cases, nearly all solved within the golden window. But her instincts told her this case was extraordinary. The killer’s counter-detection abilities were extremely strong.

Wan Yi shook her head. “We’ll need an autopsy to know. It’s a bit tricky.” She motioned for Chu Wanning and Nie Fanxin to come observe. The three stood to the left of the body. “With freezing, electrocution, and mechanical asphyxia ruled out, we’re left with pathological and toxicological analysis. If those come up empty, then it’s inhibition death.”

Nie Fanxin reflexively spoke up. “Inhibition death? Where minor external force causes sudden cardiac arrest?”

Wan Yi gave a slight nod, confirming her interpretation.

“Then let’s take the body back first.” Chu Wanning extended her right hand, palm facing down, glancing to either side. “The police have officially requested the institute’s assistance on this case. From here on out, here’s to a pleasant collaboration.”

Nie Fanxin and Wan Yi answered in unison: “Here’s to a pleasant collaboration.”

The warm midday sun bathed them as a gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of post-rain earth through the air, stirring the loose strands of hair by their ears. Their palms and the backs of their hands pressed together. Meeting again after three years, they were as familiar as ever.

In the Nanyun District Criminal Investigation Brigade office, most of the team was out working, leaving only a scattered few, including Nie Fanxin. Her gaze stayed level with the computer screen as she typed while skimming the pages ten lines at a glance.

A WeChat message popped up on the desktop version.

Wan Xiaoyu sent: “Coming over to watch the autopsy in person?”

Nie Fanxin curved her lips and typed rapidly: “Why not? Who’s afraid of who?”

“Change in the changing room on the second floor. First general autopsy room on the third floor. See you there.”

Nie Fanxin’s task was to keep tabs on forensic and trace evidence progress, so she messaged Chu Wanning, who was in a meeting, and got the go-ahead. She tidied the documents on her desk, and just as she raised her head, she found Chen Anyou’s eager face right beside her, his features scrunched in an ingratiating smile. “Sister Xin, do me a favor.”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” Nie Fanxin found it nauseating, and her face showed her disgust.

Chen Anyou cleared his throat and adopted a solemn tone. “Comrade Xiao Nie, the moment to test our revolutionary friendship has arrived. In the spirit of Marxism…”

Nie Fanxin continued for him: “Comrade Old Chen, can we skip to the point?”

Chen Anyou’s smile broadened. “Ahem, help me deliver some flowers to Forensic Doctor Wan. I can’t spare the time.”

The seated woman didn’t hesitate. “Fine.”

“Really? Big bro will treat you someday.” Chen Anyou fished a car key from his pocket and placed it on Nie Fanxin’s desk, adding his usual nagging reminder, “The flowers are in the trunk. Make sure to tell Forensic Doctor Wan I’m busy with work, otherwise I’d have delivered them in person.”

Before his words faded, someone urged him along from the corridor. Just before leaving, he mentioned, “You were right. The victim is Lu Zhenglin, third-grade math teacher at Yonghe Road Private Elementary School and Young Pioneers counselor. Progressive thinker, clean record, slated to become vice principal at twenty-eight.”

“His family reported him missing?”

“School colleagues told his wife he never showed up for the flag-raising ceremony this morning. She couldn’t reach him by phone and filed a report at 8:50.” Chen Anyou raised an eyebrow. “Looks like marital trouble. Husband doesn’t come home at midnight and the wife isn’t even concerned.”

“Xiao Chen, Captain Chu wants you.” Another voice called from outside, and Chen Anyou shouted back his acknowledgment before dashing out.

Across the street from Nanyun District stood the Judicial Research Institute, comprising two buildings. From the outside, the architecture wasn’t particularly old. Twelve years ago, the City Public Security Bureau’s Forensic Medicine Division and Binnan University’s Forensic Medicine Faculty had joined forces to establish the institute, tasked with basic research in forensic identification, forensic evaluation and technical guidance for major criminal cases, and training of elite forensic professionals. Nie Zhiyan, former director of the municipal forensic division, had been appointed one of the institute’s first researchers with a national allowance.

In her second year after returning to China, Wan Yi earned the title of assistant researcher under Nie Zhiyan’s mentorship. Now she suited up in a disposable autopsy gown, shoe covers, surgical cap, mask, and finally protective goggles. She stepped out, turned left, and climbed the stairs, passed the clinical forensic research office, and the stainless steel door next to it slid open automatically.

She stepped onto the anti-corrosion flooring before the autopsy table and bowed deeply and reverently toward the body.

“Binnan City Research Institute, 2049 autopsy number 28. Lu Zhenglin, male, age 28. Postmortem examination conducted by Assistant Researcher Wan Yi, recorded by Research Intern Wei Lan. Recording begins.” Wan Yi finished and gave a slight nod to the woman seated in the corner, who wore glasses and carried herself with dignity, though her eyes held undeniable warmth.

By then, Nie Fanxin had also suited up and entered quietly carrying her notebook, taking her place across from the autopsy table.

“Scalpel.” A rounded blade cut through the skin. Wan Yi worked unhurriedly and methodically, reflecting back layers and carefully separating skin, blood vessels, and nerves within a limited area, avoiding damage to deeper structures.

Time crawled by.

“Surgical forceps.” Clamping the tissue to be removed, Wan Yi cut along the invisible lines she’d mapped, severed the cartilage of the chest wall, then used bone rongeurs to complete the thoracotomy.

Nie Fanxin had watched Nie Zhiyan perform autopsies before, but this was her first time truly observing Wan Yi. Her cousin, frail in appearance, possessed a fierce resilience that even Nie Fanxin herself struggled to fathom.

She found herself lost in a trance.

“The heart, lungs, and other organs are normal. Pathological sudden death is ruled out.” After a long while, Wan Yi placed the heart in a sterile tray and gazed at the body in thought.

“Xiaoyu, what was the rectal temperature when the body was discovered?”

“32.1°C.”

The questioner was Wan Yi’s mentor and adoptive mother, Nie Zhiyan. She continued with her instructions: “Analyze the time of death.”

“Based on the outdoor ambient temperature, accounting for the rain, and the fact that the body had no covering when found, I estimate time of death between 12 a.m. and 1 a.m. at the earliest, and 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. at the latest.” Since southern China began indoor heating in 2030, if the deceased had been indoors first, rectal temperature would drop about 0.5°C per hour, while outdoors it would drop about 1°C per hour.

Nie Zhiyan pressed on: “The body was transported to the institute at 10 a.m. Was there any new livor mortis?”

“No. The livor mortis has already spread. Therefore, Lu Zhenglin died between midnight and 1 a.m., and the body was dumped outdoors around 4 a.m.”

Nie Fanxin listened to the mother-daughter exchange, carefully recording the key points. Since the cause of death remained unclear, they’d start with the timeline and investigate the victim’s family and social relationships.

The first autopsy concluded. Wan Yi drew the deceased’s blood and sent it to the Forensic Toxicology Research Lab for analysis. She removed her gloves, a faint smile coloring her lips: “Fanxin, now do you know what the surprise Old Wan mentioned this morning was?”