Miss Forensics – Chapter 12

Volume One: First Scroll

The Quarrel

The dignified captain of the Criminal Investigation Unit, had her collar grabbed in warning.

“Please sit, comrade police officers. The house is a bit messy, I haven’t had time to clean up these days…” The man opened the door for them, leading them inside while picking up scattered sofa cushions from the floor, his expression somewhat embarrassed.

            

Sun Xiaoming’s young daughter Sun Ya [孫雅 | sūn yǎ] sat quietly by the window playing with modeling clay. When visitors came, she merely glanced at them before lowering her head again, pulling the clay into pieces.

The Sun family’s home wasn’t large, a two-bedroom-one-living-room apartment with good layout, ventilated from north to south. A few pieces of furniture were simply arranged, with no partition at the entrance leading straight to the living room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and empty takeout boxes remained on the table.

The flowers in the entryway had wilted, emanating an air of decline and listlessness, just like the home itself.

            

“Would you like something to drink?” He opened the refrigerator to find it empty, then walked to the kitchen to prepare hot water.

Fang Xin quickly stopped him: “No need, don’t trouble yourself. We’re just here to look around and understand the situation.”

“Oh, this is our bedroom, and that’s my wife’s study…” Sun Xiaoming pushed open the bedroom door. Without its mistress, the room was as messy as the living room. A small bed sat beside the large one, presumably the child’s sleeping place. Clothes overflowed from the laundry basket, spilling onto the floor.

            

Sun Xiaoming gave a bitter smile, his eyes reddening again: “Sorry for the embarrassing sight. Usually, she took care of all this. Now I have to juggle work and caring for the child, it’s really…”

Fang Xin and the two police officers glanced around, finding nothing suspicious, especially when he mentioned Ding Xue. His grief wasn’t excessive, and his body language, eyes, and micro-expressions revealed genuine feelings.

Criminal investigators, being shrewd people, had seen enough to form their impressions and retreated, heading toward the study.

            

The computer was still on, and the nearby bookshelf housed many books, both finance-related and educational.

Fang Xin casually pulled out a book titled 《Educational Psychology》, gently dusted it off, flipped through a few pages before putting it back.

Zheng Chengrui’s gaze fell on the computer: “This… may we examine it?”

            

“Of course, please go ahead,” Sun Xiaoming went over to enter the password, indicating they could use it freely.

Zheng Chengrui opened his laptop and began tinkering: “Who usually uses this computer?”

“Both my wife and I use it. I often come back to work overtime after my shift, and she sometimes uses it to prepare her lessons and such.”

            

The computer desktop showed a photo of the family of three, with the little girl nestled between her parents, holding a rice spoon and smiling as beautiful as flowers.

Fang Xin stared at it for a while, feeling the impermanence of life [人世無常 | rén shì wú cháng | Buddhist concept of life’s transience] – how quickly a happy family of three had fallen apart.

Just then, she suddenly felt a gaze upon her. Turning sharply, she saw the little girl standing in the doorway’s shadow, who suddenly burst into tears and ran to hug Sun Xiaoming’s legs.

            

“Baba, Mama… I want Mama…” Sun Xiaoming became flustered, pulling tissues to wipe her tears while lifting her into his arms to comfort her. Perhaps his stubble hurt the little girl, as she cried even louder, repeatedly calling out “Want Mama” “Want Mama.”

“Sorry, excuse me for a moment.” With too many people in the room, the man had to carry the child out to the sofa to patiently comfort her.

Fang Xin peered through the door crack, watching him hand a toy to Sun Ya. When facing his daughter, his face bore a rare, forced smile.

            

Losing one’s mother in childhood and wife in middle age – it was heart-wrenching to witness.

“How was their marriage?” Another team of investigators arrived at Sun Xiaoming’s mother-in-law’s home to gather information.

The elderly woman’s home was cold and empty with just one person. The memorial table [供桌 | gōng zhuō | altar table for deceased family members] held two memorial photos – one of her deceased husband, the other of the victim, Ding Xue.

            

At this point, she began wiping tears: “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have let Xiao Xue marry him…”

The investigators exchanged glances, their expressions growing serious: “Please tell us the details truthfully, without embellishment. Just state the facts as you witnessed them.”

The elderly woman sniffled for a while before managing to speak: “I didn’t live with them, so I’m not sure about their daily life, but when we met during holidays and festivals, they seemed quite good together, though they’d occasionally bicker…”

            

“Did they fight? Physically?”

The elderly woman thought carefully: “No, that turtle’s egg [龜孫子 | guī sūn zi | derogatory term] wouldn’t dare lay a finger on my daughter even if he had a hundred times the courage.”

She became indignant as she spoke.

            

“What do you mean by that?”

“That boy Sun Xiaoming was the one who actively pursued my daughter…” The elderly woman heaved a long sigh at this point, her eyes reddening again as she looked at the memorial photos.

“He chased after her for quite a while, a year or two, before my daughter agreed. He was just a minor clerk, from a rural family. His parents had no pension, and their family situation wasn’t good. We didn’t ask for any bride price [彩禮 | cǎi lǐ | traditional marriage payment from groom’s family], and even provided a substantial dowry, all hoping he would treat my daughter well.”

            

“After all, my husband passed early, and she’s my only daughter.”

After saying this, the elderly woman began crying again, grabbing the investigator’s hand and attempting to kneel before them.

“Please, you must catch the killer and bring justice for my daughter.”

            

“Looking for the principal? She’s not here, she’s covering a class. You’ll have to wait a while,” the staff member set down two cups of boiled water before them and went about their business.

Lin Yan raised an eyebrow: “Even as a principal, she still needs to substitute teach?”

“Of course! Our Jiangcheng First High School is a key high school. Everyone from top to bottom must maintain their professional skills. Even the principal must make time to teach besides administrative work. Moreover, with the gaokao approaching and this incident happening, we can’t find good teachers on such short notice…”

            

At this point, the staff member’s face clouded with worry, mentioning that after the gaokao would come fall enrollment, and the recent citywide controversial news would surely have some impact.

After people left, Lin Yan took a sip of the boiled water, immediately tasting the odd plastic cup flavor, and set it down, nudging Song Yuhang’s arm.

“Hey, what do you think?”

            

“We don’t discuss cases outside the police station.”

Song Yuhang expressionlessly flipped through the magazines on the table.

“…Would it kill you to say two more words to me?”

            

“Yes,” she turned a page of the school magazine, “I’m afraid you’d die of anger.”

Lin Yan grabbed the water cup from the table, about to splash it, when the door was gently pushed open.

A woman walked in with teaching materials tucked under her arm. Around forty years old, she maintained an elegant figure, with a faint smile at her lips. She paused slightly upon seeing people in the office.

            

It was Teacher Li, whom Lin Yan had just seen in the hallway.

The staff member quickly introduced: “These two are police officers from Jiangcheng Police Department, here to investigate the case.”

The woman then came to her senses and stepped forward to shake hands: “Hello, I’m Li Shiping [李詩平 | lǐ shī píng], Vice Principal of Jiangcheng First High School.”

            

Song Yuhang smiled and took the extended hand: “Deputy Captain of the Criminal Investigation Division, Song Yuhang.”

“Hello, Captain Song, and this is?”

Her gaze turned, and due to years of teaching, the woman carried an indescribable gentle and scholarly air.

            

“Forensic examiner, Lin Yan. But let’s skip the handshake – I handle corpses all year, it’s rather inauspicious.”

After Lin Yan’s blunt statement, Li Shiping’s expression stiffened slightly, but she maintained her smile and invited them to sit.

While Song Yuhang was gathering information, asking the usual questions, Lin Yan grew impatient and stood up to examine her surroundings.

            

The office wasn’t large, with wooden furniture and leather sofas. She touched the desktop, tapped it lightly – ah, red sandalwood [紅木 | hóng mù | premium hardwood].

The nearby bookshelf held several books, mostly educational texts and some English originals that looked quite advanced.

She pulled out a school magazine, flipped through it, but when Li Shiping glanced over, she quickly stuffed it back, then went to play with the globe on the desk, spinning it round and round.

            

She seemed captivated, enjoying herself thoroughly, but unexpectedly pushed too hard, sending the sphere flying to land by Song Yuhang’s feet.

“…” The typically composed Officer Song’s throat tightened.

Perhaps she really shouldn’t have brought Lin Yan along.

            

“Sorry, sorry, please continue,” she laughed awkwardly as she went to pick it up, setting the sphere back on the globe stand. Raising her eyes, she found herself facing an old photograph in the display cabinet.

It was a faculty group photo, with the deceased Ding Xue standing in the upper right corner, smiling at them.

“This was the last time I saw her…” She paused after speaking, closing her eyes briefly, as if unable to bear the memory.

            

“How could she just…”

Song Yuhang closed her notebook: “Thank you for your cooperation. If we need anything else, please assist with our investigation. We’d also like to visit your school’s principal, may I ask—”

Li Shiping took a sip of tea: “I apologize, Principal Ge isn’t in Jiangcheng now. He left for the provincial capital last Friday for a business meeting. I’ll contact you as soon as he returns.”

            

Song Yuhang stood up: “Very well, we won’t disturb you further.”

Li Shiping also rose to see them out: “It’s no trouble. Cooperating with the police is our duty. I personally hope the police can catch the killer quickly and bring justice for my colleague.”

Lin Yan walked out first but was called back.

            

She stopped, hands in pockets, looking back: “What is it?”

After much hesitation, Li Shiping said: “Since we were colleagues, and she was talent I personally recruited, I want to know—”

“Want to know if her death was painful, right?” Lin Yan shifted her stance, crossing her arms, wearing a somewhat malicious smile.

            

Song Yuhang couldn’t stop her in time—

“Hmm, among the myriad ways to die, drowning must be the most uncomfortable. A fatal stab would be better, but instead, you have to feel every second as oxygen tears away from your lungs, you struggle, you suffer, you scream, but every time you open your mouth, more water floods in. Your limbs gradually lose strength, you sink and never surface again. When you finally float up days later, your body is covered in lividity [屍斑 | shī bān | postmortem staining], your skin sloughs off, aquatic microorganisms eat away at your face, you become unrecognizable, with maggots breeding in clusters in your mouth, nose, and eyes—”

Growing increasingly outrageous, Song Yuhang sharply raised her voice: “Lin Yan!”

            

Li Shiping held onto the doorframe, her face ashen white.

Lin Yan spread her hands, blinking innocently: “She asked me to tell her, did I say anything wrong? Officer. Song.”

She deliberately emphasized the last few words, clearly provoking.

            

Song Yuhang was thoroughly angered: “You—”

Li Shiping recovered, forcing a smile: “It’s fine. Thank you for working on solving the case. Resolving it quickly would benefit Jiangcheng First High School’s reputation. If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Song Yuhang nodded, and fearing more outrageous remarks, grabbed Lin Yan’s clothes and half-dragged, half-pulled her away.

            

Reaching an open space, Lin Yan violently shook off her hand: “What are you doing?! Let go!”

She had gripped tightly, and Lin Yan’s sudden jerk caused her collar button to pop off, leaving both of them breathing heavily.

Especially Lin Yan, whose fair skin and eyes reddened with agitation as she glared.

            

Like a fierce beast refusing to submit.

“Who do you think you are? What right do you have to control what I say or do?”

Song Yuhang’s anger had mostly subsided, but hearing this, her temper flared: “Do you realize those words just revealed case details?! Under any circumstances, we police must maintain strict confidentiality during ongoing investigations!”

            

“What police?! What ‘we’ and ‘us’! You’re you! I’m me! Don’t f*cking lump me together with you useless good-for-nothings!”

“You’re not worthy! Not at all!” After spitting these words, she viciously spat on the ground twice, forcefully pulling back the collar Song Yuhang had pulled down.

That small glimpse of her smooth, delicate shoulder finally disappeared from view.

            

When it came to street-fighting words [潑婦罵街 | pō fù mà jiē | vulgar public arguing], ten Song Yuhangs wouldn’t be her match. Lin Yan watched with satisfaction as her face alternated between green and white, her throat bobbing, hands clenched into fists.

Remembering Song Yuhang’s show of authority on her first day at the bureau, a mocking smile played at her lips.

She always seemed to wear such expressions – disdainful, mocking, cold, cynical.

            

In short, she’d never shown a genuine smile.

Lin Yan stepped forward. Not wearing heels for today’s fieldwork, she stood about a head shorter than Song Yuhang. She grabbed Song’s collar, pulling it down, and through gritted teeth, stared directly into those light brown eyes.

“And stop f*cking grabbing at me. Don’t think I won’t report you for sexual harassment just because you’re a woman.”

            

The dignified Criminal Investigation captain, having her collar grabbed in warning – she should be angry, should be furious, should throw a punch.

But Song Yuhang’s fist clenched and unclenched, unclenched and clenched again, her breathing becoming unsteady from the intense self-control.

She stared into her eyes, seeing her own reflection, and finally remembered what had caught her attention.

            

When she’d accidentally pulled open her clothes earlier, there was a strange tattoo at the shoulder hollow, resembling some ancient script or unknown primordial totem.

While she was lost in thought, Lin Yan had already released her, stepped back, her tone turning cold: “From now on, you investigate your way, I’ll investigate mine. Don’t forget, professionally speaking, we’re equals. What I, Lin Yan, hate most is people trying to dictate my actions.”

She left one sentence unspoken: whoever stands in my way, I’ll make sure they meet a bad end.

            

For some unknown reason, she faintly hoped there would never come a day when she’d have to say those words to her.

After Lin Yan left, Song Yuhang opened her palm, revealing a small beige button, now damp with sweat.

She meant to throw it away, but perhaps due to professional habit, the smallest things often revealed the biggest truths.

            

She wrapped it in tissue paper and tucked it into her pocket.

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LP: Re-translated on March 05, 2025

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