“Xu classmate, you’ve been away from school these past few days where did you go?” “Xu classmate, you’ve been away from school these past few days, where did you go?”
Jiang Yanzhi and Qin Shuo sat across from her, waiting until Xu Jiu had steadied herself before Qin Shuo flipped open his notebook, asking questions as he jotted down answers. Their homeroom teacher stepped in gently: “Xu Jiu, just tell us what you know. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Eyes reddened, Xu Jiu nodded. To everyone else, this had only happened a few days ago but to her, it was nearly thirty years past, distant enough to feel almost unreal. She thought carefully, the memories surfacing clearly:
September 2nd, 1996. A second-year high school boarder heading to morning reading on the sports field had found a blue floral-patterned bundle tucked beneath the basketball hoop. Curiosity got the better of her; she opened it, and found the body of an infant who had been dead for some time. Her scream had alerted the dorm supervisors. Based on the bedding, initial suspicion pointed to a female student at the school having given birth and abandoned the child and Xu Jiu, who was frequently absent, had become one of those under question.
In her past life, she’d seen Jiang Yanzhi in the hallway, been too overwhelmed to listen to anything they said, and simply walked away. When officers later came to her home, records proved she had never been away long enough to conceive or give birth and after that, she’d never followed how the case unfolded.
“I was at the Swan Nightclub with friends,” Xu Jiu said.
Qin Shuo looked skeptical. “Three whole days?”
“They were holding a singing competition. My friend entered.”
“Can anyone confirm this?”
“The manager, and the friends I was with,” she added. “I have their pager numbers, you can check.”
Their teacher spoke up: “Mr. Qin, Xu Jiu may miss class sometimes, but her grades have always been excellent. She’s a good girl, she would never do something so terrible.”
“Thank you, Teacher Yang, we will look into everything,” Qin Shuo said, capping his pen and closing his notebook. He met her gaze. “We may need to contact you at any time during this investigation. Please do not leave the city.”
“I understand, Deputy Director Qin.”
“Excuse me?” Qin Shuo’s eyes went wide. “What did you just call me?”
Xu Jiu realized her slip instantly, her heart lurching. She pressed her lips together. “You misheard. I didn’t say anything.”
Jiang Yanzhi’s brow lifted, and he glanced at his partner. “Why are you shouting?”
“I’m not shouting!”
As they turned to leave, Xu Jiu reached across the table and caught Jiang Yanzhi’s sleeve. “Where are you going next?”
Qin Shuo held back, watching with sudden interest, there was clearly more to their relationship than met the eye.
“We’re verifying alibis from other people,” Jiang Yanzhi told her.
Qin Shuo caught on quickly. When she asked what time he would finish work, he answered for him: “Classmate Xu, when we’re on a case, there is no set quitting time.”
Xu Jiu nodded. “Then I’ll come by after school this evening.”
Even Jiang Yanzhi looked surprised. “You’re coming to the station?”
“Yes, because I need to see you,” she said, her voice softening. “Please be careful while you’re investigating. Don’t get hurt, okay?”
He nodded.
Back in the classroom, Zhou Meng passed her a crumpled note: *Are you alright?*
Xu Jiu glanced at her, then took a pen from her case, a first-generation Chinese-made gel pen, a gift from Jiang Yanzhi. Back then she’d turned her nose up at it, telling him not to insult her intelligence, she assumed the housekeeper had put it away without her noticing. She wrote back: *I’m fine. Don’t worry.*
Leaning in, Zhou Meng whispered, “Are you sure? You were crying so terribly earlier.”
“I’m sure,” Xu Jiu reassured her.
A boy sitting behind her prodded her shoulder with his pen. “What’s going on? Did they question you because you left that baby there?”
Zhou Meng shot him a sharp look. “Don’t make things up.”
“I’m not making it up! Why would they come for her of all people?”
Xu Jiu shifted her chair forward. “If you’re going to be rude, keep it to yourself.”
By break time, the whole class was buzzing, people hovered nearby, trying to pry details loose, too wary of her temper to be direct. Xu Jiu ignored them all.
That evening, she hailed a yellow minibus straight from the school gates to the Criminal Investigation Brigade. Back then it was a modest three-story building fronting the street, grey plaster trimmed with police blue, its sign lettered in black on a white background. After signing in at the front desk, she made her way to the second-floor office.
Qin Shuo sat alone at his desk, hair in disarray. His jaw dropped when he saw her. “You actually came?”
She handed him one of the takeout containers. “Thank you for your hard work, Officer Qin.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I know a great many things,” she said with a quiet smile, finger to her lips. She carried the remaining bags downstairs.
She paused at the half-landing mirror, taking in her reflection: white blouse, navy pinafore dress, pink backpack slung over her shoulders, hair black and thick and tied simply back, loose strands brushing her face. No makeup, just her own features, sharp, dark eyes, straight nose, full lips. A face that looked stern when resting, but lit up when she smiled.
She hadn’t smiled properly in years. Gently, she lifted the corners of her mouth upward, revealing faint dimples, then turned and continued down.
At the far end of the ground-floor corridor was a heavy door, flanked by a wide window. Inside, the examination table gleamed brightly. Two men stood talking: one tall and lean, the other shorter and stocky, Li Mingyuan, one of only two forensic doctors in the city, late thirties, thick glasses making his eyes look small. He was walking Jiang Yanzhi through initial findings.
“No printer?” Jiang Yanzhi frowned at the scrawled notes. “Why write everything by hand?”
“Pen and paper are faster.”
Jiang Yanzhi kept looking at him. Li Mingyuan shifted. “I’m still getting used to the equipment, that’s all.”
“Count yourself lucky, most units would love the budget for one. But fine, if you won’t use it, at least neaten your handwriting. It’s barely legible.”
Li Mingyuan tapped him playfully. “Watch your tone, I’m your senior.”
“Was the child smothered?” Jiang Yanzhi asked, returning to the report.
“Yes, no external injuries, but plastic fibers found in the throat, and Tardieu spots in the lungs. Adhesive residue around the neck. Someone covered the baby’s head with a plastic bag, taped it tight, and smothered it. From rigor mortis, death occurred no more than two hours before discovery.”
“The caller found the body at 6:29 a.m. We arrived at 7:12 a.m., so death and disposal happened between 5:12 and 6:29 a.m.?”
Li Mingyuan nodded. “Lividity settled on the back, so disposal was likely around 5:30 a.m.”
“How far along?”
“The umbilical cord was still fresh. Vernix and meconium hadn’t been washed away, and no milk residue in the stomach, newborn, hours old.”
Jiang Yanzhi’s jaw tightened. “Monstrous.”
“Exactly. If they didn’t want the baby, why carry it to term and then kill it? You need to catch whoever did this quickly. And whoever tied the cord knew what they were doing, technique was practiced.”
“Understood.” Jiang Yanzhi turned toward the door, and froze.
Li Mingyuan looked up. “Still here? Staying for dinner?” He followed his gaze, then grinned. “Well, someone’s come to see you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, she’s my sister,” Jiang Yanzhi said, stepping outside. “Let me know if anything else comes up.”
“Sister?” Li Mingyuan called after him. “Is that the little one who used to glare at everyone?”
Xu Jiu stepped forward and offered the second takeout container. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? This is from Songjiang Hotel, I hope you don’t mind.”
Li Mingyuan looked from her to Jiang Yanzhi, eyes wide, then accepted it. “This is far too generous! I haven’t had a thing to eat or drink since morning, and your brother? Never offers. Tightfisted as they come, that one, saving every penny, and for what?”
*For me,* Xu Jiu thought. *To give me everything good in the world.* She remembered Liu Shuran handing over his bankbook, light as paper, yet heavy with meaning. He’d denied himself so much, never once asking anything in return.
She passed the last bag to Jiang Yanzhi. “This is yours. Guobaorou and pine nut corn dumplings, your favorites.”
He took it, his gaze softening. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Just a moment.”
“Come on, don’t linger here. It’s not a nice place for you.”
Li Mingyuan slapped his back. “And you a police officer, talking about bad luck and ghosts?”
Jiang Yanzhi guided her toward the stairs. “She’s always been delicate. I won’t have her falling ill because of this place.”
Li Mingyuan waved her off. “Come back and visit soon, little sister!”
As they walked up, Xu Jiu glanced at the report in his hand, handwriting she knew perfectly well, even after decades. “The body was left at 5:30 a.m.?”
“That’s right,” he said. “Why?”
“School gates are locked and logged. No pressure marks on the body, so it wasn’t hidden in a bag or suitcase. And it wasn’t a holiday, so it couldn’t have been brought in from outside. Whoever gave birth did so right here on campus.” She thought it through. “Older students stay up late, but nobody would be up and about that early. The classrooms were locked, so the only place it could have happened is…”
“The sports hall.” They spoke in unison.
“You shouldn’t be looking for people who left school,” she said. “You should be looking for students who were on campus all night, and weren’t in their dormitories.”