“Captain He, where are you headed?” Chang Bin asked suddenly after sighing in admiration.
He Shu blinked, then tilted her chin toward the elevator not far behind them. “I just came out of the tech division. Thought I’d drop by the forensic lab to check the victim’s exact cause of death.”
“We’ll go too—” Zeng Yongjia had barely opened his mouth when he felt a sharp twist in the soft flesh at his waist. The sting made him bare his teeth instinctively.
Chang Bin quickly withdrew his hand, cutting him off in time. “Uh, Captain He, what do you think we should do next?”
For months, the Special Investigations Unit had been operating without a direct leader. Though Deputy Liu handled reports, coordination, and some decisions, he couldn’t cover everything. So the team often handled minor matters on their own. But things were different now. No matter the new captain’s ability or temper, they still had to show proper respect.
Zeng Yongjia seemed to catch on, rubbing his sore side and thinking it might bruise.
“The two who called the police?” He Shu ignored their little exchange, her smile never fading. That easy warmth gave people the dangerous illusion she was soft, pliable, and—being a woman—easy to handle.
But Zeng Yongjia quickly shook his head, forcefully banishing that reckless thought. Others might not know, but he did. Her professional skill was still untested, but one thing was certain: anyone who underestimated her would regret it bitterly. Just think of Ji Chen’s two broken ribs.
“The couple who discovered the body were both emotionally unstable at the scene, clearly badly shaken. The woman kept crying,” he explained. “So we couldn’t take their statements right away. With their consent, we brought them back to the bureau. They should be in the lounge downstairs now, calming down.”
“Get their statements done first,” He Shu instructed. After receiving their confirmation, she turned, stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button for the forensic lab floor.
Inside the elevator, she watched the floor numbers drop one by one until it stopped at the second floor. This level was noticeably quieter than upstairs—so empty that even footsteps in the corridor seemed to echo.
When she pushed open the heavy door of the forensic room—its material distinct from the other office doors—she saw the back of forensic doctor Zheng Jian standing beside the autopsy table, speaking softly to an intern.
“You’re here?” Perhaps hearing the sound, the man turned his head and greeted her without the slightest awkwardness. “First day on the job and you’ve already run into an all-nighter. Getting used to it?”
He Shu walked around the autopsy table and stopped opposite him, lowering her gaze to the corpse—little more than rotting flesh and bone. She smiled at his words and nodded. “Sooner or later I’ll have to get used to it. Work in the criminal investigation division really isn’t easy.”
Zheng Jian chuckled twice, then pointed at the body with a serious expression. “Male, about thirty‑five years old. Judging from the remaining tissue, the cause of death was massive blood loss. At the scene, because of poor lighting and the environment, plus the lack of muscle and internal organs left for wound analysis, I couldn’t immediately identify the fatal injury.” As he spoke, he slid a movable magnifying device toward the victim’s neck and gestured for He Shu to take a closer look. “Only just now did I find this in the remnants of the neck muscles…”
He Shu studied it for a few seconds, her brows knitting. “That’s…”
“Exactly. There’s a wound on the neck, and it was inflicted while he was alive.”
“So he was likely killed by having his carotid artery severed, bleeding out until death?” He Shu murmured, leaning in for another look. “The wound doesn’t look like an ordinary knife made it.”
Zheng Jian nodded. “More likely an extremely fine steel wire or a wire saw.” He picked up a thin strand of steel from the workbench, straightened it, and let its cold gleam catch the light. “Doesn’t look like much, but in the right moment it can be lethal. I checked his cervical vertebrae carefully—no marks of friction from the weapon. The killer’s intent may have been simply to cut the artery.”
“Or perhaps the killer didn’t have that much strength,” He Shu raised a brow.
Zheng Jian agreed, then continued. “Most of the exposed bones show bite marks. Not human—likely from stray animals near the dump site. Based on the remaining tissue, the tearing and gnawing happened after death. But the wrists… There are some details worth noting.” He walked over to the nearby computer and pulled up several photos. On the screen appeared the victim’s bare wrist bones. “The right wrist shows fine fractures. And look—both wrists have discoloration patterns. This suggests the victim’s wrists were injured while alive. I lean toward the idea that his hands were restrained by handcuffs or chains. The struggle left these marks, the fractures, and slight misalignment in the bones.”
He Shu rubbed her chin, casually rotating her own wrist until it gave a crisp crack.
“As for whether the victim suffered more external injuries while alive, I can’t say. Even his basic male features were carried off by those little creatures. I’m powerless there.” Zheng Jian let out a long sigh. “Once the autopsy is fully complete, I’ll prepare a report for you. I’ve already sent DNA samples to Ding Qi to check against the database. And I’ll begin facial reconstruction as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” He Shu replied. Leaving the forensic lab, she noticed dawn beginning to break outside. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time—nearly five in the morning. She walked to the window and glanced down at the courtyard, where a few private cars were scattered. Just as she was about to turn away, several figures entered her line of sight.
They seemed to be heading toward the three‑story annex beside the main building. The first floor lights were on—that was the bureau’s cafeteria. With overnight shifts so common here, the cafeteria was designed to open early and close late.
Ji Chen was still wearing the same dark blue T‑shirt from earlier. Despite the morning chill, he hadn’t bothered with a jacket. He chatted easily with his colleagues, occasionally turning his head to confirm what someone said. His profile was sharp and resolute, and even after a sleepless night, he carried himself with undiminished energy.
Only after the group disappeared into the annex building did He Shu slowly step away from the window. She pressed a hand against her hollow stomach and let out a quiet sigh. Their earlier reunion had been far less harmonious than she had imagined. His attitude had been so unmistakably clear that even if she wanted to feign ignorance, she couldn’t. Better not go to the cafeteria—no need to spoil his meal.
After a moment’s thought, He Shu headed instead to the lounge at the end of the corridor on the Special Investigations Unit’s floor. She made herself a cup of coffee and sat down in the corner. The air was thick with the sweet, cloying scent of instant coffee. She drained a few gulps, then leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closing slowly. But caffeine couldn’t fight off the body’s demands. Drowsiness swept over her, dragging at her consciousness. Her breathing steadied, and she looked as though she had fallen asleep.
Years of habit, however, kept her alert even in unfamiliar places. In the haze, she could still register footsteps coming and going, the low hum of the water heater, and the steady whir of the standing air conditioner across the room.
The air was cold, the temperature set low.
She seemed to dream—chaotic fragments, a suffocating pressure over her mouth and nose that made her chest rise and fall more sharply.
Seconds later, her eyes snapped open. The sharpness that lingered from waking was so fierce that Zeng Yongjia, who had just sat down opposite her, instinctively shuddered at the sight.
“…” By the time Zeng Yongjia tried to confirm whether that brief eye contact had been an illusion, the woman across from him was already smiling.
“Looking for me about something?” He Shu asked.
“No… I just came to make some tea, happened to see you here.” Zeng Yongjia lifted the thermos in his hand. “Old Chang and I have finished taking the statements from the witnesses.”
“Good work.”
“It’s almost time for the shift to start. Most of the team has already arrived. How about I take you back now and introduce you to everyone?” he suggested tentatively. Once she nodded, he sprang up from his chair first, carrying the steaming thermos as he headed out.
He Shu rose to follow him. Passing by the air conditioner, she suddenly realized what felt off—the vent was no longer blowing its steady stream of air.
The morning air wasn’t hot; perhaps the cleaning lady thought it wasteful and simply switched the unit off.
He Shu rubbed her slightly chilled arm, quickened her pace, and stepped out of the lounge. Half a minute later, she reached the office door marked Special Investigations Unit. As she drew closer, loud voices spilled out from inside.
“The bureau is completely unreasonable… waited so long, and they send us a girl…”
Zeng Yongjia’s expression changed instantly. He strode into the office in two quick steps and coughed loudly twice. The noise inside fell silent.
Tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear, He Shu waited a few breaths before entering. The Special Investigations office was a spacious open room with about a dozen desks. At her appearance, seven or eight men exchanged varied looks.
Catching Zeng Yongjia’s signal, Chang Bin stepped forward to introduce her to the team. When he reached a square‑faced officer with a blank expression, he hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed.
He Shu sized up the man—Police Officer Xie Zihao, apparently the one who had just spoken. He looked barely past thirty.
In fact, the unit as a whole skewed young, most between thirty and forty, with a few in their forties. No one older—this line of work was a “youth’s trade.” Age alone made the endless night shifts unbearable.
Sensing the awkwardness, Zeng Yongjia, unsure of He Shu’s temperament, tried to smooth things over. “Captain He, that desk by the window is yours. I’ve placed the witness statements there—you can look them over later…”
Just then, Ding Qi pushed open the half‑closed door, whistling as he entered. Noticing the strained atmosphere, he flicked his eyes around casually before settling on He Shu. “Captain He, the DNA comparison results are in.”
Chang Bin craned his neck eagerly. “So fast? The victim’s in the database—he has a record?”
Ding Qi nodded.
He Shu flipped through the report, and at the bottom of the page found what she was looking for: “Five years ago, involved in a rape case…”