They had originally thought that finding He Yu would bring a breakthrough in the case.
Yet, the course of events had veered into yet another fork in the road.
If Xie Aixian’s fall had nothing to do with any of them, then why would a woman so devoted to her son have so hastily ended her own life?
Shen Yan spun the pen in his hand, then suddenly stopped, and stated, “When a woman learns of her husband’s affair and neither cries nor makes a scene, but instead lets it run its course, it means there’s no love left between them.”
“Xie Jing’an was born to Xie Aixian and Qin Lang. In this disappearance case, Qin Lang remains calm and composed, while Xie Aixian’s life has undergone earth-shattering changes. The biggest problem lies with Qin Lang!”
He stared at a line in the testimony, then suddenly said, “Let’s go—one more trip to Xizi Bay!”
Late at night.
Shen Yan and Jiang Shisan arrived at the crime scene once again.
By this time, the evening joggers in the residential complex had largely resumed their usual bustle, though when passing the spot where she had fallen, they unconsciously shifted to the side.
The two opened the door to Unit 1003 and walked straight into Xie Aixian’s room. The furnishings were exactly as they had been on the night of the incident, except that a piece of jewelry on the vanity had been moved from its original position.
Earlier, they had conducted an extensive review of Xie Aixian’s daily habits and discovered that she was a very refined woman in life, yet she had a particular fondness for wearing a cheap purple beaded bracelet.
After her fall, it was found that the bracelet was not on her wrist.
And now, that very bracelet lay harmlessly in the corner, covered in a layer of white dust.
Shen Yan picked up the bracelet, searching for anything unusual.
Jiang Shisan leaned in, shining his flashlight on the purple beads. It was clear that several of them bore traces of cracks.
“If Xie Aixian was going to jump, she would have worn her most precious possession. So why is this bracelet under the table? And given that Xie Aixian had no wounds on her body before the fall, it’s possible there was a second person at the scene! Shisan, does Qin Lang have any medical history?”
Shen Yan’s sudden question caught Jiang Shisan off guard—he hadn’t yet connected why this would relate to Qin Lang’s medical history.
But he immediately recalled that during the first statement, Qin Lang had mentioned that his poor emotional state was due to intermittent depression.
“Boss, he has a dedicated psychological counselor. It’s intermittent depression.”
“Look into his psychiatrist.”
“On it.”
Early the next morning.
An anonymous article titled “A Young Housewife Takes Her Own Life at Xizi Bay—What Is the Truth Behind It?”
A rambling 1,000-word piece meticulously dissected the fall from that night, and even ended with a cliffhanger: “It’s been three days now—what is the truth?”
In an instant, the article sparked heated discussion among netizens. The words “Xizi Bay Residential Complex” appeared prominently in the piece, and the public began commenting, even playing detective, analyzing each connected person one by one.
When Shen Yan saw it, he was already having Chen Chuan contact colleagues in the security department to trace the article’s IP address—it had been posted from a café in the western suburbs of the capital.
He had Chen Chuan take Nami to intercept the person, while he and Jiang Shisan went to meet Qin Lang’s psychiatrist.
Although the news online spread quickly, Weibo dared not allow sensitive trending keywords to surface, and the topic was forcibly removed from the hot search.
Xiangya Private Psychological Counseling Center.
Shen Yan and Jiang Shisan had been staking out the psychiatric hospital since early morning.
His sleep had been extremely light lately, and he kept having the same dream over and over. In the dream, Wen Xin was still eighteen, dead drunk, clinging to his arm and crying as she asked again and again, “Shen Yan-gege, you’re not my real brother, so why can’t I like you?”
“I don’t want to hear your explanations. Explanations are just cover-ups, and cover-ups mean you like me…”
Suddenly, the dream shifted to a few days ago—the scene of Wen Xin in danger at Xizi Bay.
Why was it that in his dreams, Wen Xin was always crying?
Shen Yan opened a bottle of mineral water, washed his hands, then splashed the remaining water in his palm onto his face, trying to clear his head.
He always kept his hair in a crew cut, spoke fluent Beijing-accented Mandarin, and carried himself with a bright, handsome air. Jiang Shisan sometimes found himself captivated by even a few of his gestures.
But right now, he just felt that Shen Yan’s crew cut—neither too long nor too short—seemed to be suppressing his impressive good looks. He couldn’t help but remind him, “Boss, Director Meng said there’s a mixer next month. We should still pay attention to the squad’s image. Besides, you’re the captain—we all look to you as an example.”
He was determined to attend next month’s mixer—it was a rare opportunity arranged by the matchmaker within the public security system.
Shen Yan held an unlit cigarette between his lips, his gaze sharp as a torch, fixed on the entrance of the psychiatric hospital, afraid of missing even a single detail.
His voice was slightly hoarse, indifferent. “What does image matter compared to solving cases? Come on, the fish is here.”
Jiang Shisan had just been fixing his hair in the car’s vanity mirror. The moment he heard Shen Yan’s words, he immediately snapped the mirror shut.
Han Xiangya had been in a great mood lately, smiling at everyone she met. She’d gifted all the nurses in the consultation office an expensive set of skincare products—a perk they’d never even received at year-end.
She sat in her consultation room, legs crossed, watching the surveillance feed outside. Soon, her attention was drawn to Shen Yan.
Shen Yan and Jiang Shisan entered the psychological consultation office, where a nurse had them fill out a questionnaire.
The two filled theirs out separately. Shen Yan stared at the questions, finding them somewhat odd. Though psychology wasn’t his specialty, he’d heard a thing or two about the field—why did the questionnaire questions look so similar to hypnotherapy prompts?
He deliberately put on a troubled expression, glanced at the surveillance camera in the room, and subtly turned his body to avoid it while texting Jiang Shisan.
Ten minutes later.
The nurse came to call for him. “Mr. Shen, Dr. Han is ready to see you.”
Shen Yan rose, his peripheral vision catching Jiang Shisan. The two exchanged a knowing look.
He walked down a long corridor with white walls on all sides, finally stopping at an office deep within, hundreds of meters in. The nurse gestured him in with a gentle smile.
The moment Shen Yan stepped inside, the office door shut instantly, as if pulled by a magnet.
Han Xiangya sat in the office chair, eyes closed in repose, wearing a sexy red dress with no white coat at all—as if she’d just strolled in for a casual outing.
After a moment, she heard the sound of the chair turning. She opened her drowsy eyes and fixed them on Shen Yan. Perhaps she hadn’t expected a psychological counselor’s office to attract a handsome man as wild as a wolf.
Han Xiangya seemed thrilled, like a predator spotting prey. She tossed her hair and said, “Mr. Shen, I’ve reviewed your questionnaire. What is your concern?”
Shen Yan was briefly taken aback, then immediately snapped back to attention.
When a psychologist meets a patient, the first thing they say isn’t “I’m here to listen to your story,” but rather, they ask about the patient’s needs?