Miss Forensics – Chapter 21
by Little PandaPart One
Suspicion
Nothing Is More Delicious Than Dumplings, Nothing Is More Fun Than Playing with One’s Sister-In-Law
A flurry of chaotic footsteps echoed from upstairs. The figure in black ducked into a utility closet filled with cleaning tools, wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, and pressed the micro-mic on his collar, breathing heavily.
“Help me hold her off! Ten minutes!”
The footsteps grew closer. Song Yuhang, gun raised, advanced with several criminal investigators in a tactical formation.
The figure in black pressed against the wall, gripping the black mechanical baton tightly. He tried to control his breathing and swallowed hard, his body tense as a coiled spring from head to toe. With the baton held in a reverse grip, he resembled a beast poised to strike.
The footsteps were right upon him. He counted silently: one, two, three…
Song Yuhang’s hand found the doorknob. Under her touch, the flimsy wooden door let out a soft creak. At that exact instant, the figure in black gripped the mechanical baton so hard his knuckles turned white.
Just as he shifted his weight to burst out and fight his way free, several gunshots suddenly rang out from outside.
“Over there! Don’t let him get away!” several investigators shouted, firing as they gave chase.
A black figure leaped straight down to the first floor from the landing of the stairs.
The slightly open wooden door let in a sliver of light. The footsteps outside had vanished.
The figure in black slumped against the wall, his strength spent. He let out a few muffled coughs, and as he wiped his mouth, flecks of crimson stained the back of his hand.
Damn it, they were good. To think they could push him to this point.
He glanced at his watch. Time was running out; he couldn’t afford any more delay. Propping himself up with the mechanical baton, he pulled off his hood, stripped off the cumbersome black clothes, and grabbed a set of filthy janitor’s overalls from the utility closet. He smeared a handful of dust over his face, completely transforming his appearance, and strode out with casual confidence.
“Team one, team one, flank him from the side!” Seeing someone emerge, several plainclothes officers stationed downstairs charged forward with electric batons raised. The figure in black was incredibly agile; he twisted one officer’s wrist, grabbed his arm, and drove his knee upward. The knee is one of the hardest parts of the human body, and the massive force of the strike sent agonizing pain shooting through the officer’s internal organs.
The plainclothes officer was thrown backward, spitting blood on the spot!
Another officer lunged, aiming a heavy blow straight at the back of his head, intending to subdue him instantly and strip him of any chance to fight back.
The figure in black grabbed the shoulders of the man in front of him and executed a mid-air flying kick—a move strikingly similar to the kick delivered to Song Yuhang upstairs moments earlier.
If the investigator hadn’t instinctively blocked with his electric baton, his jaw would have been shattered. Even so, he staggered back several paces, his ears ringing as he spat out a bloody shard of a broken tooth.
Her dark gun barrel aligned with him. Song Yuhang slowly tightened her finger on the trigger, but a persistent sense of wrongness stayed her hand.
This black-clad figure’s movements were far more aggressive and domineering than before. The previous person’s skills had also been top-tier, but they were by no means this brutal.
She had fought him herself, so she knew. A knee strike like that required not just rapid reflexes and exceptional core strength, but also immense power to launch a two-hundred-pound, six-foot-tall brute into the air. The previous person had been highly agile but lacked raw power—otherwise, after that kick, Song Yuhang wouldn’t be standing here right now.
Furthermore, the first suspect had clearly been injured during their escape. This man, however, moved with perfect ease, toyed with multiple highly trained investigators, and didn’t even seem in a hurry to run. It was as if he were playing with them.
Song Yuhang’s inner alarm bells blared. She holstered her gun and lunged forward. “Take him alive!”
Sensing her approach, the man shoved a captured officer toward her and slipped past the perimeter like an eel. He ducked and weaved through the ensuing hail of bullets, rolling across the ground as a round grazed his ear.
A two-meter-high wall stood ahead. The figure in black grabbed a tree branch, using its momentum to swing upward and catch the top of the wall with one hand. The branch he had just held was instantly shattered by gunfire.
Wasting no time, he kicked off the wall, hoisted himself up with both arms, and flipped over. Bullets struck the tiled coping, sending sparks flying.
By the time Song Yuhang led her team outside, the street was already bustling, and the man was long gone.
Pacing back and forth in frustration, she finally couldn’t help but slam her fist into a utility pole.
Her shoulder-length hair had been tied back on her way over, with the stray locks on her forehead held in place by clips, revealing her smooth, rounded forehead and a pair of bloodshot eyes.
She spoke through gritted teeth. “Call Forensic Examiner Lin. Ask her what. She. Is. Doing.”
“The number you have dialed is currently unanswered…”
The phone screen beside the pillow lit up and went dark, over and over, yet only the cold, automated recording played from the speaker.
Duan Cheng hung up, his expression anxious. He couldn’t wrap his head around how Forensic Examiner Lin had become a suspect, let alone how she was tied up in this case. After all, two people had just died—this was no light charge.
“Captain Song, she… She isn’t picking up…”
“Who else is at Technical Investigation?”
The scene had already been cordoned off, with the police tape stretched to the bottom of Unit One. The flashing emergency lights cast a cold, stark glow over her face, making it appear even more pale and icy.
Duan Cheng quickly dialed Zheng Chengrui’s number. As he pressed the buttons, he said, “Old Zheng… Old Zheng is there. I’ll have him check on her.”
Song Yuhang grunted in response. “Take a few extra people.”
Take a few extra people… What did that imply?
Duan Cheng didn’t dare speculate further. The call connected quickly. Halfway through the explanation, Zheng Chengrui dropped his chicken drumstick onto the keyboard with a soft thud.
A line of criminal investigators hurried down the corridor and stopped right in front of the duty room. Zheng Chengrui cleared his throat and knocked. “Forensic Examiner Lin? Forensic Examiner Lin, are you in there?”
A heavy silence filled the room. No one answered him.
The fatty swallowed hard and stepped back, letting another investigator knock. Still, there was no reply.
The men exchanged glances. The fatty took a step back, preparing to break the door down, when Lin Yan appeared in the hallway. She was carrying a washbasin, a towel draped around her neck, with wet hair dripping onto her shoulders. She was wearing a tank top and hot pants.
She looked as though she had just returned from the showers near the autopsy room.
Her expression was rather sour. “My, what’s with the crowd? What are you all doing here?”
The leg the fatty had raised to kick the door shot back like lightning. He offered a fawning smile. “No… Nothing… Captain Song is looking for you.”
Lin Yan gestured for them to clear the way, pushed past them, and slid the washbasin under her bed. She fished her phone out from beside her pillow, where an unsaved number was flashing on the screen.
She pressed answer.
Song Yuhang’s voice was like ten-thousand-year-old ice, carrying a faint trace of gritted-teeth fury under the surface.
“Li Shiping is dead.”
The air conditioning inside was turned down very low. Lin Yan shuddered the moment she stepped inside. To avoid contaminating the scene, stepping plates had already been laid out. Sun Xiangming lay prone on the floor, a discarded syringe lying nearby.
Li Shiping lay not far away, blood still staining the corners of her mouth, her hand gripping her phone tightly.
The trace evidence team was already hard at work.
She put on her gloves, walked over to Sun Xiangming, and worked with Duan Cheng to flip him over. Because rigor mortis had set in, it took some effort.
Lin Yan handed the inspection light to someone else and gently tilted his chin back with her right hand. Under the beam of light, a tiny needle puncture was visible on his neck.
Fang Xin picked up the discarded syringe, sealed it in an evidence bag, and handed it over. “Our preliminary assessment suggests there is only one set of prints on this. As for whose they are, we’ll have to run a comparison back at the bureau.”
Song Yuhang took the bag and examined it closely, her peripheral vision fixed entirely on Lin Yan.
Her gaze was unspeakably freezing, carrying a distinct trace of disgust.
Under that intense scrutiny, Lin Yan pried open Sun Xiangming’s mouth, pulled down her mask, and leaned down slightly. Duan Cheng watched in sheer bewilderment, wondering if she was about to initiate some bizarre intimacy with the deceased.
“F-Forensic Examiner Lin…”
Lin Yan had indeed leaned very close, bracing herself on the floor with one hand, her nose almost touching his. She took a light sniff. Seeming uncertain, she bent down again to repeat the action.
A distinct scent of bitter almonds.
“Cause of death is central respiratory failure caused by cyanide poisoning,” she said, finally straightening up after several rounds of verification. “As for whether it is organic or inorganic cyanide, we will need a full autopsy to confirm.”
She directed her words at Song Yuhang, but the captain acted as though she hadn’t heard a thing.
Song Yuhang drew back the curtains. Outside, the sky was still dark. She gave the window a hard shove, but it didn’t budge. It was welded shut. This meant a third party couldn’t have climbed in through the window.
She returned to the doorway.
The signs of a struggle were mostly concentrated around the entryway. The door lock was completely intact, but there were compression marks along the side of the door. Running a gloved finger over the wood, she felt some loose splinters flake off.
She ordered someone to take photographs and collect samples.
Since the lock was undamaged, the intruder hadn’t forced entry. They must have known both Sun Xiangming and Li Shiping—perhaps Li Shiping had opened the door for them willingly.
But why?
Hadn’t Li Shiping been afraid that the police would arrive?
Or had she known all along that this person would come?
Song Yuhang’s gaze swept over. Lin Yan was kneeling on the floor, conducting a preliminary examination on Li Shiping. The mask obscured most of her delicate features, and her hair was neatly tucked into her cap, exposing her slender, pale neck.
She strode over.
A shadow fell over Lin Yan, blocking the light from the inspection lamp.
Lin Yan looked up, annoyed. “Move. You’re blocking the light.”
Song Yuhang stared at her intently, as if trying to read her face like a book.
Being stared at like this made Lin Yan’s skin crawl. She forced herself to remain calm, a flicker of playfulness appearing in her seductive almond eyes.
“What is it, Captain Song? Have you taken a liking to me too? I don’t really mind. After all, they say nothing is more delicious than dumplings, and nothing is more fun than playing with one’s sister-in-law1, right?”
Fang Xin cleared her throat and turned away, tugging at Duan Cheng’s clothes.
Duan Cheng, who was still holding a magnifying glass to inspect the deceased’s mouth, was dragged away by his collar before he could react.
“Ah… Wait, I’m not done looking yet…”
“Look later!”
As their eyes met, Song Yuhang crouched down and threw an arm around Lin Yan’s shoulder in a seemingly intimate gesture. Only Song Yuhang knew just how much force she was applying.
Lin Yan was squeezed so hard she felt as though her bones were about to shatter, but she could neither dodge nor retaliate.
Just like that night, they leaned in close, their ears pressed close as they whispered.
“Li Shiping is dead,” Song Yuhang said, her words practically ground out between her teeth.
Lin Yan pointed at the corpse before them, her expression innocent. “I know. Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“They’re both dead. Are you happy now?”
Song Yuhang’s cool lips were practically brushing against Lin Yan’s ear.
Lin Yan turned her head. Had it not been for her face mask, they would have shared an intimate kiss.
She looked into Song Yuhang’s light brown eyes and said nonchalantly, “What do I have to be happy about? I wanted to sleep in.”
Her expression was completely open, her eyes showing not a single trace of avoidance.
A person like Lin Yan was far more difficult to handle than Sun Xiangming.
Song Yuhang maintained her tight grip on Lin Yan’s shoulder, staring deep into those dark pupils.
They were completely empty, containing nothing but her own reflection.
She smiled too. “You have excellent composure, Forensic Examiner Lin, to be able to sleep at a time like this. Do you hear Sun Xiangming’s parents and daughter wailing downstairs? The white-haired sending off the black-haired2, a young child orphaned… Long nights bring nightmares. Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. I certainly hope you can sleep peacefully every night, Forensic Examiner Lin.”
She spoke softly, leaning in again, her lowered voice carrying an almost seductive pull.
Warm breath brushed gently against Lin Yan’s earlobe.
Lin Yan shifted slightly, but Song Yuhang refused to let her escape. Her lips were so close they nearly touched Lin Yan’s ear, tracing the elegant curve down toward her neck.
Song Yuhang inhaled softly, as if in quiet contemplation. “Forensic Examiner Lin, your perfume today is quite unique. I’ll remember it.”
“Captain Song, the neighborhood canvassing…” someone called out, approaching with a notepad. Song Yuhang released her and stood up, walking away as if nothing had happened.
Lin Yan lowered her gaze slightly, rolling her sore shoulder where it had been squeezed. She parted her lips to mutter under her breath, “Damn it, flirting with this daddy.”
She would remember this debt. Sooner or later, she would collect it back with interest.
Staring at the pale, bloodless face of Li Shiping before her, she spaced out for a brief second. She reached out, intending to retrieve the phone resting on her chest, but her own phone suddenly rang.
She pulled off her gloves, walked to the side, and answered. “Hello?”
The moment the person on the other end uttered a single sentence, her face went pale. She ripped off her cap and bolted for the door.
Song Yuhang reached out to block her. “Where do you think you’re going?!”
Lin Yan violently grabbed her by the collar and shoved her aside. “Get out of my way! Don’t stop me, or I’m finished with you!”
In those eyes that were usually playful, dismissive, cold, or sarcastic, there was now a rare flash of sheer panic.
In the split second Song Yuhang hesitated, Lin Yan let go of her, sprinted down the stairs, and immediately hailed a taxi.
“Driver, Taian Mental Hospital.”
She buckled her seatbelt, her expression frantic. As the car slowly rolled out of the residential compound, the body bags were carried down from upstairs.
The two elderly parents collapsed to the ground the moment they saw the body bags, wailing in grief.
Ding Xue’s mother cradled Yaya in her arms. The little girl sobbed loudly, stretching her tiny arms out toward her father’s body bag. The grandmother held her back, wiping away her own tears.
Song Yuhang looked up at the sky as a light drizzle began to fall again. She recalled her visit to Li Shiping’s home, and the smile that had graced the woman’s face when she spoke of Ding Xue.
“She was an exceptional teacher—so kind, gentle, and highly educated. She treated all her students equally…”
Even though she had passed away and was no longer in this world, to love someone meant that no matter when or where you thought of them, a warm smile would unconsciously trace your lips.
Her gaze followed Lin Yan’s departing taxi as the earpiece in her ear crackled with static.
“Still tailing?”
Song Yuhang lowered her voice. “Yes. She is very clever. Be careful.”
The author has something to say:
Thank you for reading.
I have read all the suggestions from you guys. Indeed, not placing periods inside quotation marks is incorrect; that is just a typing habit of mine. I will try to correct it starting today.
Also, regarding the scene transitions: when I type in my document, I usually leave extra blank lines for transitions, but Jinjiang has a strict formatting system that collapses empty lines into a single line, making it look a bit messy. Today, I used * * * to represent the scene transitions instead. Let me know if that looks better to you guys.
Finally, let’s hand the microphone over to Captain Song 【Dog-head emoji to save my life】
Captain Song: “Are you sure you’re playing me, and not the other way around?”
Footnotes
- A vulgar Chinese colloquial proverb (haochi buguo jiaozi, haowan buguo saozi) implying inappropriate relations; used here by Lin Yan to shock and mock Song Yuhang.
- A traditional Chinese idiom (bai fa ren song hei fa ren) referring to the tragedy of elderly parents outliving and burying their own children.
RAHHHHHHHH