Jinghuai City was an internationally renowned coastal tourist destination. The seawater here was exceptional, drawing countless visitors each year to spend their holidays by its shores.
At night, the beach was always tranquil, carrying a sense of reassurance. Not far away, the faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks drifted in. Occasionally, in the darkness, flickers of firelight and bursts of laughter revealed tourists gathered around bonfires. Sometimes, couples strolled along the shoreline under the cover of night, the cool seawater lapping at their ankles and coaxing soft sighs of contentment.
Low whispers of lovers drifted with the sea breeze. A woman in a brightly colored floral dress lowered her head with a shy smile, playfully swatting at the man beside her in his white short-sleeved shirt.
He laughed, catching her hand. Their eyes met, silence fell, and they slowly leaned closer, breaths mingling. The spot they had chosen was secluded—few people came here even in daylight, and just a few meters away lay heaps of jagged rocks. The woman hesitated only briefly before closing her eyes, as if acquiescing to what was about to happen. Yet after ten long seconds, the expected soft touch on her lips never came.
Puzzled, she opened her eyes and frowned. The man opposite her looked startled, his gaze fixed on something behind her, nostrils flaring slightly. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell?” She sniffed hard. All she caught was the salty dampness of the sea breeze—and beneath it, a faint stench of rot. Rotten seafood, she thought. Nothing unusual.
But the man released her hand and circled behind her, heading toward the source of the odor. It came from a messy pile of rocks, a place rarely touched by the tide even at high water, so the ground remained dry.
“What is that…” He stepped cautiously onto the uneven stones. Then, peering into a wide crevice under the weak moonlight, his face froze. With a shudder, he tumbled backward onto the sand. “Holy—!”
It was a corpse. Or what remained of one. The flesh had decayed beyond recognition, some of it gone, some hanging loosely, exposing bone that gleamed eerily in the moonlight.
The stench rolled out in waves.
The woman rushed over, trying to help him up, her voice trembling. “What’s wrong?”
“Call the police! Hurry, call the police!”
The red and blue lights of the police cars slashed through the night sky above the beach. Within minutes of their arrival, officers had cordoned off the scene with yellow tape. Several large floodlights were set up around the rocky shore, blazing so brightly that it looked like daylight.
Two more patrol cars pulled up along the road by the beach. Tourists, drawn by the commotion, gathered nearby and whispered among themselves.
“According to the local precinct that got here first, there’s barely anything left,” said Detective Zeng Yongjia of the Special Investigation Unit as he stepped out of his car. He lifted his chin toward the forensic team and technical squad climbing out of the vehicle behind him.
Forensic examiner Zheng Jian looked scholarly, a man in his thirties with rimless glasses. He nodded slightly at Zeng Yongjia’s words, then picked up his toolbox and led his intern toward the rocks.
Technician Ding Qi, however, leaned in curiously. “Where’s Old Chang?”
Zeng Yongjia spread his hands. “He’s waiting for Deputy Liu. They should be along soon. Right now, Liu is temporarily overseeing our unit’s work. Since this case needed urgent response, I brought the team ahead.”
“I’ve heard some rumors,” Ding Qi said with a sly grin as he adjusted his equipment. “Sounds like your unit’s days of being ‘headless dragons’ are about to end.”
Zeng Yongjia only smiled, offering no comment.
Together they crossed the police line. Ahead, Zheng Jian was crouched over the victim, examining carefully. Hearing their footsteps, he glanced up and spoke: “There’s hardly any muscle tissue left. Large portions of the skeleton are exposed.”
“Has the body been here too long? Or is it from seawater erosion?” Zeng Yongjia stared at the stubborn skull wedged between the rocks. Most of the hair had fallen away with the scalp, the face was a blur of mangled flesh, and the eye sockets were hollow—there was no way to recognize the features.
Forensic examiner Zheng Jian lifted a scrap of decayed flesh with his gloved hand, then shook his head. “No signs of seawater immersion. The time of death was roughly three days ago. Judging from the shape of the pelvis, the victim was male.” He narrowed his eyes, studying the exposed ribs and femur. “The muscle tissue didn’t fall away naturally. There are marks on the bones, and some finger bones and other skeletal parts are missing.”
“What kind of tool could have caused those marks? Can you make a preliminary judgment now?” Zeng Yongjia asked.
Before Zheng Jian could answer, noises came from the roadside greenery above. Several dark shapes darted through the bushes; some crouched and watched, their eyes glinting in the night.
Zheng Jian looked up, then exchanged glances with Zeng Yongjia and Ding Qi. He spread his hands innocently. “You know me—I rarely make baseless judgments during a field autopsy. But this time, I’d strongly suggest rounding up the stray cats and dogs in the area. They might be the so‑called ‘tools.’ The marks on the bones look more like bite marks. Run a comparison later, and you’ll see which of these little ‘darlings’ are the ones you’re looking for.”
Zheng Jian looked up, meeting Zeng Yongjia and Ding Qi’s eyes. He spread his hands with an innocent shrug. “You know me—I rarely make baseless judgments during a preliminary autopsy. But this time, I really suggest you round up the stray cats and dogs nearby. They might be the so‑called ‘tools.’ The marks on the victim’s bones look very much like bite marks. Run a comparison later, and you’ll see which of these little ‘darlings’ are the ones you’re after.”
At that, Zeng Yongjia shifted his gaze from the strays to Ding Qi.
Ding Qi only shrugged. “Once the forensic team finishes, our technical squad has to collect evidence. That part’s on your unit.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, a hint of schadenfreude in his tone.
“…” Zeng Yongjia drew a deep breath, his expression bleak.
Ten minutes later, a modest gray sedan pulled up beside the two patrol cars. Three people stepped out—two men and a woman. One man looked to be in his thirties, the other closer to fifty, with a bald patch on his crown that spoke of years gone by. The woman was much younger, her long black curls tied loosely at the back, dressed in a blue tracksuit.
She was tall—around 1.7 meters even in sneakers. Her cheeks carried a healthy flush, her eyes bright, as though she had just finished some strenuous exercise.
Chang Bin stepped out of the car, craning his neck to peer down at the beach. At first he couldn’t spot Zeng Yongjia. Then, blinking, he caught sight of a disheveled figure darting out of the greenery a dozen meters away, bent at the waist in an odd posture, chasing after a small dark shadow that had bolted ahead seconds earlier.
But the shadow was quick. In the blink of an eye, it slipped back into the roadside bushes and vanished.
Because of the momentum, Zeng Yongjia sprawled face‑down on the sand. He sighed, rolled over, and gazed up at the sky—only to realize, as he turned, that someone was standing nearby. He opened his eyes and found three faces looking down at him curiously.
Chang Bin pressed his lips together, clearly struggling not to laugh.
“…” Zeng Yongjia scrambled to his feet, shot Chang Bin a glare, then greeted the older man with a grin: “Deputy Liu, you came out this late.” As he spoke, his eyes flicked—just for a moment—toward the young, striking woman beside them.
“Two reasons for coming tonight,” Deputy Liu said with a hearty laugh. “First, to get a sense of the situation here. Second, to deliver on my earlier promise—your unit finally has a captain again. From now on, the Special Investigation Team has a direct leader, so stop bothering me!” He gestured toward the woman. “This is He Shu. She’ll be in charge of your unit’s work. She was supposed to report tomorrow, but since there’s a case tonight, I thought it better for her to take command right away, rather than hear about it secondhand later.”
Zeng Yongjia exchanged a glance with Chang Bin, confirming this wasn’t a joke. His expression grew complicated, but he quickly composed himself and offered a polite smile and nod. “Captain He.”
He Shu smiled back and shook his hand. She was a beautiful woman, not especially fair‑skinned—likely from growing up in Jinghuai City—but her brows and eyes carried a strong, alluring charm.
After a few more instructions, Deputy Liu let He Shu escort him back to the car, where he whispered further advice.
“Who is He Shu? Where did she come from?” Zeng Yongjia tugged Chang Bin toward the roadside greenery, lowering his voice as he watched the two figures in the distance. The captain’s seat in their unit had been vacant for a long time, and speculation about who would claim it had been endless. They had guessed every qualified candidate from the surrounding districts—but never once had they heard the name “He Shu.”
“Shows how little you know,” Chang Bin said, arms crossed, his right leg bouncing as he shook his head. “According to Deputy Liu, she’s anything but ordinary.”
“What do you mean, not ordinary?”
Chang Bin hesitated, his eyes darting. “That’s just what Deputy Liu told me. He said we’ll find out soon enough. If you want details, maybe ask Ji Chen.”
“Team Ji?” Zeng Yongjia’s expression soured at the mention, unsure why Ji Chen was suddenly involved. He didn’t press further. Instead, he turned his head and saw the gray sedan pulling away. He Shu remained behind, waving. Even in the loose tracksuit, her figure was striking.
“What do you think?” Chang Bin leaned closer.
“What do I think?” Zeng Yongjia repeated automatically, then frowned and tilted his head. “I suddenly feel like that name rings a bell…” Maybe it was because he’d been repeating it aloud, but it seemed as though some forgotten corner of his memory was slowly unlocking.
“You just think she’s pretty and want an excuse to cozy up,” Chang Bin scoffed, then turned away to gossip with Ding Qi and the others.
Zeng Yongjia stayed where he was, lost in thought. Just then, He Shu glanced his way, lazily blinking, the corner of her mouth curling.
Boom. Something detonated in his mind, leaving him stunned, unable to react. A fragment of memory finally broke through the soil, sprouting in his consciousness. “Holy—It’s her…?!!!”