On the night of the full moon, a bright, round disc hung high in the sky, casting its radiance onto the dagger in Liao Ran’s hand as a cold flash flickered past.
He gripped the weapon tightly with both hands and held his breath for fear of waking the soundly sleeping Bai Ji, aiming directly at Bai Ji’s beating heart and thrusting forward fiercely.
Bright red blood splattered across his face, but it was cool.
Slightly deviating from common sense, Liao Ran wiped a drop of the blood from his face and put it into his mouth. A sweet taste spread across the tip of his tongue.
It was a dream.
He slowly opened his eyes. The hand supporting his cheek felt somewhat sore and numb. On the desk in front of him lay a half-finished cup of coffee, and he had already read through Bai Ji’s file from cover to cover more than ten times.
Dong, dong. The office door was knocked on, and he casually slipped the file into the bottom drawer.
“Come in.”
Police officer He Yong poked his head in. “Doctor Liao, am I interrupting you?”
“Why didn’t you come in and talk?” It was as if he kept some sort of ferocious beast in here.
He Yong glanced at the human skeleton and bionic organ models placed on the display rack, feeling a chill run through his body. “I just came back from outside. My soles are dirty, so I’ll talk from here.” Everyone knew that Liao Ran was usually aloof, spoke very little, often stayed with corpses, had an eccentric personality, and was a clean freak. “Well, someone is here to identify a body.”
As soon as Liao Ran stepped into the police office, the gazes of unfamiliar faces converged and followed him.
When someone approached, a young man immediately stood up, nervously gripping the seam of his pants in a well-behaved and disciplined manner. “Senior. My name is Geng Yuan, nickname Yuanyuan. You probably don’t know me.”
Qin Jiu clicked his tongue. “Hey, kid, you sure pick and choose who to be polite to. I questioned you for half a day and you gave me answers word by word out here, yet when he comes, your little mouth runs like a machine gun.”
He sat down and took a sip of strong tea. “Alright, Old Liao, you take over the questioning.”
Liao Ran invited him to sit down. “Have we met before?”
“I’m a student at the medical university, and I saw your photo on the alumni honor wall. I have video backups of all the reports about the cases you’ve helped solve, and I even cut out the newspaper articles and bound them into volumes. So far, there are 314 major cases recorded in total. I really think you’re amazing. I even applied for the intern forensic doctor position at this police station, though I didn’t expect to meet you ahead of time this way.”
Liao Ran’s expression was solemn. “Since we have this connection, you should also know that seeing me is not a good thing. Have you seen the body?”
Because his profession differed from that of ordinary people, Geng Yuan had been putting on a brave face, but hearing the familiar voice of the person he admired made his internal defenses instantly collapse, and his eyes reddened. “It’s my older brother, Geng Fang. I recognize the scar on his left arm. When we were little, because my grades weren’t good, I once secretly altered my report card. When my dad found out, he was so angry he chased me around to beat me, and it was my brother who blocked it for me. A red-hot stove poker left a number-seven-shaped scar on his arm. I couldn’t possibly be wrong.”
Liao Ran pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Geng Yuan received it with both hands and stuffed it into his shirt pocket.
Noticing his little action, Qin Jiu tried to hold back a smile and tossed a pack of facial tissues over.
Liao Ran caught it steadily and placed it on the table between them. Geng Yuan pulled one out himself to wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes.
The conversation now open, Qin Jiu stood up and got down to business. “Later on, we will collect your DNA and compare it with the deceased to confirm his identity. For now, we’d like to get a preliminary understanding from you: when was the last time you saw your brother Geng Fang?”
“About a week ago. I was preparing materials related to my graduate school graduation, and he came to my school to drop off my household registration booklet,” Geng Yuan recalled carefully.
That very afternoon, the DNA report confirmed the deceased was Geng Fang, and the investigation proceeded. Through inquiries, they learned his profession was a programmer, thirty-five years old, a white-collar office worker whose temper lived up to his surname, very straightforward and stubborn, frequently coming into conflict with others.
Shortly before the incident, he had gotten into a fight with a product manager over a website bug.
He Yong suggested, “Let’s bring that product manager back for questioning, and everything will be clear.”
Qin Jiu pondered and felt it inappropriate. “Based on what we currently know, his suspicion is indeed the highest, but there’s no solid evidence. You can’t say someone committed murder just because the two of them argued. I think we shouldn’t alert the authorities just yet. Old Qian, you go keep an eye on him first and see if he does anything unusual.”
“What do you think? Is the killer the product manager?” Qin Jiu nudged Liao Ran beside him.
There was no response. Liao Ran was looking down, his breathing steady.
“Hey, strange things happen every year, but today we hit the jackpot. Doctor Liao actually fell asleep during a meeting.” He Yong pulled out his phone, wanting to capture the moment.
Qin Jiu shot him a glare. “Go on, get to whatever you’re supposed to be doing.”
He Yong was quick to get up, but upon reaching the door, he turned back with a helpless look. “You didn’t assign me any chores, so what am I supposed to be doing?”
Qin Jiu rubbed his arm; the air conditioning was blowing a bit too strong. “Go get a blanket for Doctor Liao.”
“You got it.”
The incident on Quzhou Island had taken a heavy toll on Liao Ran, not just physically, but mentally as well.
Watching someone who was usually so wise and strong occasionally reveal a vulnerable moment, Qin Jiu felt a pang of heartache as he raised a hand to stroke Liao Ran’s hair.
“Ahem.”
Accompanied by a warning cough, Fu Chong stood at the doorway of the conference room, his gaze fierce like a lion whose territory had been encroached upon.
Liao Ran was woken up, feeling the warm blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked at Qin Jiu beside him, noticing the other man’s evasive gaze as he glanced sideways toward the doorway.
“Why are you so tired?” Fu Chong walked toward him with a worried expression.
Qin Jiu stood up to yield his seat. “You guys talk. I have work to attend to.”
Fu Chong watched the man scurry away in a panic, his fingers holding the files turning red with force.
“Are the test results for the plant nutrient soil on the body out?”
Fu Chong opened his folder. “Yes. The Academy of Sciences arranged for me to assist you in investigating this case. This is the soil composition report. Nothing particularly unusual was found; they’re all standard trace elements that can be bought on the market.”
There were no coincidences, this was the result of Fu Chong’s self-recommendation and his father Liao Qizhong’s connivance.
Liao Ran didn’t want to expose it; he just wanted to focus on the case at hand.
“Strange. Why is the acid concentration so high?”
Fu Chong awkwardly shook his head. “This, I don’t know either.”
People capable of explaining this were few and far between among the experts at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. A name crossed Fu Chong’s mind, but he didn’t want to bring it up.
“I’ll try checking it a few more times from this angle. I will definitely help you find the problem.”
Various indicators flashed through Liao Ran’s mind. After all, cross-disciplinary matters meant many of these data points were only half-understood by him.
“You aren’t helping me. You’re helping the victim find the real killer. What our work involves is the price of life, and those who do wrong should be punished.”
Fu Chong’s heart shuddered, and he pulled a chair up to sit down. Looking at Liao Ran’s solemn expression and resolute gaze, his heart was a chaotic mess. His conviction remained unchanged, no one could compare to Liao Ran’s life, and any sacrifice for Liao Ran was worth it.
“Is there any progress around that person? Have you found out about the location of the mother Gu?”
Liao Ran stopped turning the pages of the file. Time froze for two seconds before he shook his head.
From his hesitation, Fu Chong knew the true answer. “You couldn’t possibly have softened up toward him. Or have you fallen for him?”
Softened up perhaps, but anything else was entirely out of the question.
In a rare display, Liao Ran raised his voice. “Absurd. That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
Hearing his categorical denial, Fu Chong’s turbulent heart settled slightly. Liao Ran wouldn’t love anyone; he was insensitive to emotions and judged everything based on results.
That Liao Ran had agreed to his confession at the celebration banquet was also because Fu Chong was the living person who continuously occupied the most of Liao Ran’s time. Liao Ran needed a symbiotic role like that to make himself look like a normal person. If pressed, with his rationality intact, Liao Ran was essentially asexual.
Fu Chong didn’t care about that. Since Liao Ran didn’t like him all that much, he shouldn’t like anyone else either.
“Let’s talk after you get off work. We haven’t eaten together in a long time. There’s something I want to tell you.”
For days, he had been searching for an opportunity to gather his courage and ask whether what happened the day they confirmed their relationship still counted. Seeing the cautious, timid way Qin Jiu had dared not touch him just moments ago, Fu Chong’s sense of crisis flared up instantly.
“Where to?” No matter how late, Bai Ji would definitely be waiting for him.
“The old place. I’ve booked a table.” Fu Chong was clearly well-prepared.
Liao Ran hadn’t even noticed the trace of reluctance hidden in his heart, yet he couldn’t find any legitimate reason to refuse.
As the two walked out the door, they bumped into Qin Jiu, who looked rushed.
Liao Ran grew alert. “Did something new turn up in the case?”
Qin Jiu struggled into a leather jacket, fumbling for a sleeve for a moment. “No, it’s my younger sister. She got into a fight with someone and is being detained over at the North District Police Station with Old Li and the others. I have to go check it out. It’s nothing major, go ahead and get off work normally.” He glanced at the man standing behind Liao Ran. “Have a good time with your friend.”
The two walked toward the parking lot.
“Did you drive?”
Liao Ran subconsciously nodded, realizing too late that it was a mistake.
“How come I don’t see it?” Fu Chong knew the model and license plate of his car by heart.
“His.”
There was no need to mention a name to know whose car it was, acting like a period ending the conversation between them.
“Ride in my car. I’ll take you home.” Fu Chong pondered for a moment, finding a resolution that made him feel more comfortable.
“No need. Why bother with such troublesome things?” A blunt refusal was Liao Ran’s usual style.
Yet this time, Fu Chong insisted. “Choose me, even just once. Bai Ji, he…”
Mid-sentence, Liao Ran’s phone rang.
It was an official landline number. When he answered, a familiar voice came through: “Doctor Liao, is that really you? I’m Old Li from the North District Police Station.”
Could something have gone wrong on Qin Jiu’s end?
“It’s me. Please go ahead.”
“There’s someone here named Bai Ji. Do you know him? Something happened to him, and they need a family member to sign off. He gave them your number. See if you have time to come over right now.”
Fu Chong slammed his car door shut with a heavy thud. “Since when did you become his family member?”
“Do you know about his younger brother’s death?” Events that had taken place right at the Academy of Sciences, Liao Ran wanted to remind Fu Chong that in this world, Bai Ji’s only remaining attachment was himself.
Fu Chong fell silent, looking at Liao Ran with an incredulous gaze, seemingly unable to believe he would ask such a question.
While he was stunned, Liao Ran had already gotten into the car.
“I have to go.”