Miss Forensics – Chapter 38

by Little Panda

Part One

“Autopsy”

“I won’t ever let you be alone again.”

Lin Yan clicked on her penlight and ran her fingertips across the rows of freezer compartments, searching for the name and number.

Song Yuhang followed behind with a flashlight and crouched down. “Here. This is him, right?”

She pulled open one of the bottommost freezer compartments and a blast of cold air hit her face. Lin Yan shivered. Before she could say anything, a jacket was draped over her shoulders, still warm from its owner’s body heat.

Lin Yan looked up. Song Yuhang had already stepped back, crouching nearby in a white short-sleeved T-shirt, as if afraid of being punched again.

The Lin heiress’s lips curved imperceptibly. Though neither had ever met Vulture in person—one was a Criminal Investigation Detachment captain, the other had money and influence—getting hold of his photograph had been easy enough.

Though the corpse was already bloated beyond recognition, her forensic instincts confirmed it in an instant. This was Vulture.

Lin Yan pulled a small toolkit from her bag, her mouth just as busy. “You’re a Criminal Investigation Detachment captain. If you wanted to investigate a case, you could’ve done it openly and aboveboard. Why stoop to sneaking into a place like this?”

Song Yuhang considered it but decided not to tell her about being confined. “It’s a case directly under the provincial department. I can’t get involved.”

Lin Yan’s hands paused mid-glove. She flipped back the corpse’s eyelids. “Don’t you think it’s strange too?”

This time Song Yuhang didn’t hold back. She nodded. “How did Scar Face recognize you? Or was his target you all along?”

Too bad the man was dead. Otherwise, following that thread would surely have uncovered more of the dangers lurking around Lin Yan.

Lin Yan hadn’t thought much about it. She was used to it. Scar Face wouldn’t be the first person to want her dead, and he wouldn’t be the last.

As the sole heir to Jingtai Group, she had faced countless threats to her life, both open and covert. Why else would she have deliberately trained in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for self-defense?

What concerned her was something else. “How did our whereabouts get exposed?”

She kept talking, her hands never stopping.

Subconjunctival hemorrhage visible to the naked eye, livor mortis faint and pale. Aside from the livor mortis, the rest of the skin was a deathly white.

Lin Yan switched her penlight to high-beam mode and used a cotton swab to extract a trace of mushroom foam from the corpse’s nasal cavity.

Vital reaction. He had indeed drowned.

Song Yuhang watched her work and was silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”

Lin Yan’s lips twitched with a trace of sarcastic amusement. “Looks like this ‘ghost’ is hiding deep.”

Song Yuhang held the flashlight steady for her from the side. “Whether it’s a person or a ghost, I won’t let you do dangerous things like tailing someone alone again. And I won’t let you be left alone again.”

Lin Yan smiled and used a mouth gag to pry open the corpse’s mouth. “It’s not that serious…”

She stopped mid-sentence, feeling the other woman’s gaze land on her face. She looked up instinctively, and their eyes met again. Song Yuhang’s lips were pressed tight—she clearly wasn’t joking.

Lin Yan gave a dry laugh and swallowed the rest of her words. She tried to refocus on the corpse but caught an inadvertent glimpse of the wound on Song Yuhang’s webbing—the two rows of deep tooth marks, the blood already dried.

Lin Yan looked away, somewhat discomfited. Song Yuhang switched hands with the flashlight, wiped the injured hand on her clothes again and again, and tucked it behind her back.

The atmosphere turned strange again.

Especially since they were crouching head-to-head at the bottom row of freezer compartments, so close that Lin Yan’s neck kept drifting, deliberately or not, right in front of Song Yuhang’s eyes—and Song Yuhang’s gaze kept drifting, deliberately or not, toward it.

Lin Yan squeezed her eyes shut. The autopsy was not getting finished at this rate.

She gritted her teeth. “Song Yuhang, are you looking at the corpse or at me?!”

Officer Song, who had been dying to get a closer look at that neck and was still hung up on it, was snapped out of her reverie by those words. She shot to her feet. “Ah… ah… I’ll go keep watch at the door.”

She started to leave, and without the flashlight’s beam, the surroundings plunged into darkness again.

Lin Yan lost her temper again. “Fuck, get back here and hold the light for this old lady!”

“Oh.” Song Yuhang rubbed her nose, resigned, and turned back. But this time she behaved, keeping her eyes off Lin Yan’s neck.

Lin Yan examined the corpse from head to toe, not even skipping the nail beds. Song Yuhang watched her pull out one new item after another from the forensic kit and smiled. “You came pretty well-prepared.”

Lin Yan rolled her eyes and ignored her. If Song Yuhang knew she’d built a professional dissection lab in her own villa, her jaw would drop.

Technical skills got rusty without practice—so the saying went.

“Give me an evidence bag.”

Song Yuhang clamped the flashlight between her teeth, dug out an evidence bag from Lin Yan’s pack, opened it, and held it out.

Lin Yan dropped in the cotton swabs coated with sediment from the corpse’s fingernails. “Need to take these back and test whether the algae or sediment matches the river.”

Song Yuhang sealed the evidence bag and tucked it back into the pack. She nodded. “Alright, but you can’t do it at the Ministry of Public Security’s forensic evidence center.”

Lin Yan’s hands didn’t stop. “I know that. Don’t worry about it. I have my own channels.”

“Give me the fingerprint roller.”

Song Yuhang found a steel rod about 5 centimeters long in the toolkit. Lin Yan took it, wrapped a layer of white paper around the rod, and instructed Song Yuhang to ink the corpse’s fingers.

Though she didn’t understand why, she did as told.

The man had been dead for some time, and with the prolonged cold storage, rigor mortis wouldn’t ease anytime soon. Extracting fingerprints was going to be a problem.

Lin Yan rolled the paper-wrapped fingerprint roller along each finger, and the problem was solved.

Song Yuhang couldn’t help being impressed.

With appreciative eyes on her, Lin Yan was so smug she could’ve sprouted a tail and wagged it to the sky. “Well? Wasn’t a wasted trip, was it?”

Song Yuhang nodded sincerely. “Better to arrive at the right moment than early.”

“But then again, you’re a police detective. What could you possibly find from looking at a corpse?” Lin Yan wiped the ink from the corpse’s fingertips with gauze, erasing all traces.

That question hit home. Song Yuhang was stumped. After a long pause, she stammered, “The newspaper.”

Lin Yan was baffled. “What newspaper?”

“The newspaper. Today’s—no, yesterday’s.” Song Yuhang checked her watch. It was already past midnight, so she corrected herself.

“From the investigative experience of a veteran detective, I don’t think this man would make such a basic mistake. And… based on what I know of you, if you noticed something off, you’d be desperate to get to the bottom of it. So I came to try my luck.”

To think it really was a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse—talk about a happy accident.

Heaven knew how thrilled she’d been the moment Lin Yan came at her with a knife.

Lin Yan stared at her until Song Yuhang rubbed her nose self-consciously and looked away under her gaze.

“You really are… truly one of a kind.”

Song Yuhang smiled wryly. “Can’t help it. I couldn’t reach you.”

Lin Yan raised an eyebrow. Speaking of which, she realized she was somehow bothered by this too. “Did you even try to contact me? You only came to see me at the detention center once!”

After being turned away that one time, she’d never come back!

Damn it. And she’d been worrying about her injuries. Lin Yan started grinding her teeth.

Song Yuhang saw her expression souring and quickly waved her hands. “I really didn’t—I even asked someone to look for you.”

But over a month had passed, and the informant had sent no word at all—whether he’d found anything or not.

Song Yuhang’s heart dropped at the thought, and her smile faded.

Lin Yan had already turned away with a dismissive snort. “Who knows, Officer Song.”

Song Yuhang wasn’t the type to advertise what she’d done for someone. Besides, assaulting someone at the detention center entrance wasn’t exactly honorable, and she didn’t want Lin Yan to know—there was also a thread of sheepishness at work.

She didn’t try to explain further. Then she saw Lin Yan pull a scalpel from the toolkit, about to make the first cut, and grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing?”

The scalpel hovered over the corpse’s chest. Lin Yan struggled. “An autopsy! What else? Surface examination alone can’t determine whether he drowned before death or was dumped into water after.”

Song Yuhang didn’t budge. “Still no. Coming here tonight already crossed a legal line. We can’t compound one mistake with another.”

Lin Yan was so angry she laughed. “He’s already dead! What does it matter about crossing lines? At worst I’ll stitch him back up when I’m done. Do you want to know the truth or not? Don’t you want to know how he really died, and who’s pulling the strings behind all this?”

Song Yuhang’s grip was iron. The slender wrist quickly turned red under her hand. Lin Yan gritted her teeth and used her free hand to pry at her fingers.

“Of course I want to know. But not like this. Even if you stitch him up, there’ll be traces. Once someone finds out, Lin Yan, your career is over.”

“None of your business! Let go of me, let go!” Lin Yan’s eyes were red with fury. She growled in a low voice, pummeling her, but Song Yuhang didn’t budge an inch.

“Put down the scalpel first. Then I’ll let go.”

Lin Yan panted, her chest heaving. “Fine, I’ll put it down! This old lady must’ve been cursed eight lifetimes to run into a stubborn mule like you.”

She pulled her hand back toward herself, and Song Yuhang moved with her.

Lin Yan’s left hand quietly slipped a hemostat from underneath. A flash of cold steel lunged at Song Yuhang’s face, forcing her to let go.

Song Yuhang was ready. She tilted her head to dodge, then—determined to teach her a lesson—yanked Lin Yan’s wrist toward her, sending Lin Yan half-sprawling onto the corpse.

She gritted her teeth and braced against the freezer to pull back. But Song Yuhang’s palm gripped that impossibly slender wrist—almost too slick to hold.

Her heart softened. She looked again at Lin Yan’s eyes in the darkness—full of frustration, grievance, and resentment. She was genuinely furious; even the corners of her eyes were red.

Song Yuhang pressed her lips together. She couldn’t keep this up. The moment that thought surfaced, her grip loosened—and Lin Yan, drained of strength, toppled backward.

She couldn’t stop it in time.

When Lin Yan hit the floor, the instruments in her hand clattered against the cold ground with a sharp, piercing clang—like a time bomb dropped into a still lake.

Song Yuhang could already feel the ripples violently spreading. She hauled Lin Yan up and hissed, “Go! Now!”

Lin Yan snapped to attention. She whipped off the jacket and in a few swift strokes wiped down the floor and everywhere they’d touched—old hand at this.

“Wait—okay, close the freezer door! Quick!”

Song Yuhang had just shut the door when chaotic footsteps echoed outside the morgue. “Who is it! Who’s in the morgue?! Come on, let’s go in and check!”

She scanned the room—nowhere to hide. She dashed to the window, braced her shoulder against it, and pushed with all her might. It didn’t budge.

Lin Yan limped over too, panting. “Don’t waste your energy. Morgue windows are usually sealed from the outside.”

Song Yuhang refused to give up and slammed her shoulder into it several more times. Not even a crack. The footsteps were right outside. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

“So what do we do?”

Lin Yan rummaged through her pack. “Smash it with this.”

Song Yuhang hefted the emergency hammer, spat into her palms, and said, “Stand back! Get clear!”

With a sharp crash, the glass shattered. Song Yuhang’s hand was drenched in blood. She paid it no mind, took the rope Lin Yan handed her, tied a dead knot around the window frame, and yanked it hard.

She glanced at Lin Yan’s leg. “Your foot…”

She’d noticed it already.

Lin Yan held a fruit knife, facing away from her, on guard. Flashlight beams were already cutting through the gap in the airtight door onto the morgue floor.

She stayed calm. “I’m fine. You go first. Catch me below.”

Song Yuhang nodded, wasting no more time. She climbed onto the windowsill, gripped the rope, and looked at the back of Lin Yan’s head. “Wait for my signal. When I tell you to jump, jump.”

Lin Yan nodded. She caught a glimpse behind her—Song Yuhang was already gone, and the rope tied to the windowsill was taut.

Lin Yan swallowed. Her palms were slick with a thin layer of sweat, so clammy she could barely hold the knife.

Just as the airtight door beeped, a whistle came from below. Lin Yan knew she’d landed safely. She shoved the knife into the inside pocket of her pack and leaped onto the windowsill. A jolt of sharp pain shot through her ankle.

Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. Lin Yan gritted through the pain, grabbed the rope with both hands, and rappelled down at top speed.

The pursuers broke through the door. Shrill sirens blared across the compound, and searchlights swept toward them.

Song Yuhang stood on the dirt slope below, arms spread wide, and shouted, “Jump!”

Lin Yan closed her eyes and let go of the rope. She was nervous, of course—even though she’d slid halfway down, it was still a two-story drop. What if Song Yuhang didn’t catch her? What if Song Yuhang ran first…

The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

But before she could tense up for long, she fell into a warm embrace.

Lin Yan hooked her arms around her neck. Both of them had extensive tactical training and knew how to absorb impact to minimize injury.

The world spun. Song Yuhang cradled her head, pressing her into her chest, using her own body to shield Lin Yan from the rain of dirt, stones, and debris.

It was a slope of roughly 35 degrees. Momentum sent them tumbling downhill—and the roll carried them clear of the pursuers.

Lin Yan was held so tight she couldn’t see anything. She only felt herself spinning an untold number of times, her hand scraping against the ground until it burned. But apart from her hand, she was unscathed.

Until Song Yuhang’s back slammed hard into a large tree, and leaves cascaded down over them.

Lin Yan spat out the sand in her mouth, dizzy and disoriented. It took a long moment to come around. “Song Yuhang?”

No response. Her lips pressed tight.

She lay on top of Song Yuhang. The forest light was dim, making it impossible to see how badly she was hurt. She could only see her back pressed against a towering tree, her head lolling to one side—no telling if she’d hit it.

Lin Yan struggled to lift herself up and patted her face. “Song Yuhang. Song Yuhang. Wake up.”

No answer. Her heart leapt into her throat.

The arms around her waist still hadn’t loosened. Lin Yan’s voice trembled slightly as she carefully reached for her breath. “Song—”

Before she could finish, Song Yuhang coughed twice, choking up the blood that had pooled in her throat, and her whole body relaxed.

She sat up with Lin Yan in her arms. Leaves drifted from their heads. A smile played on her lips, and her eyes shone in the darkness.

“Cough… cough, cough… I’m fine.”

Lin Yan slapped her across the face. “Fuck your mother, playing dead again!”

Song Yuhang stood up clutching her face, looking wronged. “No… I really did pass out… really… let me explain!”

Lin Yan didn’t look back. Dragging one injured leg, she limped downhill. “Fuck off!”

Song Yuhang followed close behind. “Don’t walk so fast. Your foot’s swollen up like a puffed-up steamed bun…”

“None of your business. Fuck off!”

At a small steep drop, Lin Yan braced against a tree and tested the footing carefully. Dirt crumbled downhill—and she was yanked back by a firm hand.

Song Yuhang slung one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, supporting her the same way Lin Yan had supported her that day.

“Slow down. No rush. They won’t catch up to us.”

She rarely smiled, but when she did, two canine teeth peeked out, making her look sunny and adorable—she was practically a tail-wag away from begging for a treat.

Lin Yan snorted but didn’t pull away. “What’s your zodiac animal?”

“Year of the Ox. Why?” Song Yuhang tilted her head to look at her.

Lin Yan turned away, but the corners of her lips lifted slightly. “I’d say you’re more of a Year of the Dog.”

The author has something to say:

Thank you for reading.

Yesterday on Weibo I saw some fun stuff I wanted to share with everyone, and with our Song-Lin ship.

—Gentle tops are the best, comforting you while they x.jpg

—Angry bottoms are the best, cursing ‘fuck your mother’ while taking it (hits you when she finishes, hits you when she doesn’t too).jpg

Hey, who says I can’t write sweet fluff?