Miss Forensics – Chapter 44

by Little Panda

Volume One: First Scroll

Dripping Blood

“Song Yuhang, look at me.”

By the time Lin Yan had dragged herself through getting ready and came downstairs wrapped in a bath towel, Song Yuhang was already standing in the kitchen. Lin Yan’s clothes were still a bit small for her; the shirt was very form-fitting, its sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Her height and long legs made the suit trousers look quite stylish, the hem of the shirt casually tucked into the pants, giving her an air of effortless chic. Droplets of water still clung wetly to the ends of her hair.

Hearing the movement, Song Yuhang turned around, an apron tied around her waist. “What do you want to eat?”

From the back, she looked like an androgynous beauty; turning around, she resembled a chef from a Western restaurant. Lin Yan almost laughed her chin off. “What are you doing wearing a suit and an apron? Switching careers to become a Michelin three-star chef?”

“Your closet is full of dresses…” Song Yuhang smiled, a little embarrassed. “I was afraid of getting it dirty. It looks expensive.”

Lin Yan, wrapped in the towel, walked barefoot down the stairs, a hint of languor in her expression. “It looks good on you. It’s yours.”

Song Yuhang’s gaze first followed her steps down to her feet—very white, ankles small, delicate, and rounded.

“Um… no need. I’ll wash it and return it to you.”

“Oh, right, I think you left a uniform jacket here too,” Lin Yan said, walking into the walk-in closet and rummaging through a large pile of clothes and shoes for Song Yuhang’s jacket.

The frosted glass reflected her fine figure. The living room was completely open-plan; Song Yuhang, standing in the kitchen, had an unobstructed view. The bath towel only covered the upper and lower parts, the rest reflected indistinctly on the glass, adding a certain intriguing quality.

“Huh? Didn’t I ask the butler to wash and hang it up ages ago? Where did it go?”

Lin Yan stood up, looking somewhat vexed.

Song Yuhang turned her face away. “If you can’t find it, just forget it. It’s not like I’m short that one jacket; the department issues plenty every year.”

She even harbored a selfish desire to leave something of her own in Lin Yan’s room.

While Song Yuhang’s mind was wandering¹, Lin Yan had already turned back with the clothes. “Ah, found it. I kept forgetting to return it. By the way, don’t cook. The butler will bring a chef over later.”

Song Yuhang stopped halfway through cutting a tomato. “Is that so…”

She seemed somewhat regretful, a pity for all these kitchen utensils and such a beautifully renovated kitchen.

“You never cook?”

Lin Yan poured a cup of coffee from the brewed pot, walked over to her side, and peeked out. “Why should I cook? My manicure is so expensive.”

Song Yuhang laughed. “That’s true…”

As she spoke, she intended to throw the tomato on the cutting board into the trash. “Sometimes I think you’re utterly crude, and other times I feel you’re completely otherworldly².”

“Everyone eats the same grains³, worships at the same temple of the five viscera⁴. Vulgarity is bone-deep vulgarity; no one is nobler than anyone else. Strip away that layer of skin, and all sorts of demons and monsters⁵ emerge. Nothing to be surprised about.”

Lin Yan took a sip of coffee, glanced at Song Yuhang’s movement, and reached out to grab her wrist. “What are you doing? Didn’t you already cut half of it?”

“Didn’t you say a chef is coming later…”

Lin Yan smiled, reading a hint of embarrassment in her expression. “I just said I don’t cook. When did I say I don’t eat? I still have to taste the skills of our great Officer Song.”

The fingertips resting on her wrist were cool, with the texture of jade. Song Yuhang couldn’t help but recall the spine-tingling sensation from last night when Lin Yan had performed the palpation exam on her.

She vaguely felt her neck starting to itch again.

“Tomato and egg gravy noodles. It’s not a particularly fancy breakfast. If you want to eat it, I’ll make it,” Song Yuhang said, starting to get busy, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Of course, I’ll eat. Why wouldn’t I? I’m hungry,” Lin Yan said, her voice trailing off with a light, almost coquettish lilt.

She dreaded it when Lin Yan spoke in that tone. Just like moments ago, when she teased her, dragging out her words, her face showing a hint of worldly-unwise innocence and brightness. She clearly wasn’t that kind of person, yet it inexplicably added a layer of mature allure to that innocence.

She was doing it on purpose.

Song Yuhang thought of the scene upstairs and her ears quietly turned red in the morning sunlight.

This person hadn’t met her gaze since coming downstairs. Lin Yan leaned partially on the counter, looking up askance at her. “Song Yuhang, look at me.”

The person focused on chopping vegetables remained unmoved.

Lin Yan changed direction. “Song Yuhang, look at me~”

Song Yuhang bypassed her, took a handful of scallions from the fridge to wash, clearly having no intention of engaging.

An idea sparked in Lin Yan’s mind. She reached out to pinch her reddened ear. Teasing this person was just too much fun.

Before she could stand on tiptoe and pinch it, she got a face full of water flicked at her.

“Hey, you!”

Lin Yan was getting angry, but the person opposite her seemed even angrier. Due to the hangover, the bloodshot veins in her eyes hadn’t faded, and they now held something else Lin Yan couldn’t decipher. Her expression was deeper than usual.

“Get dressed properly and stay out of the way!”

“I…” Lin Yan wanted to say more, but seeing the suppressed anger in Song Yuhang’s tightly pressed lips, she felt her courage falter⁶.

It felt as if one more word from her, and she’d become the meat on Song Yuhang’s chopping block.

“Hmph, fine, I’ll stay out of the way. Petty!”

When the butler arrived at the time Lin Yan usually got up for work, this was the scene he encountered.

The two sat at opposite ends of the large dining table, ignoring each other. Between them were serving plates, a few side dishes, and two boiled eggs.

It was earth-shattering⁷! Song Yuhang had seemingly put all the Lin family chefs out of work overnight. Not only was Lin Yan eating voluntarily, but she was eating tomato and egg gravy noodles!

The butler couldn’t help the tears streaming down his old face⁸, nearly awarding her the “Most Touching Figure in China” award.

She rarely ate this kind of common home-style food. Song Yuhang’s cooking wasn’t top-tier, but it was novel enough for a first try.

Lin Yan couldn’t resist eating a few more mouthfuls of noodles, her gaze shifting to the eggs on the plate.

Song Yuhang reached out and took both eggs. Lin Yan opened her mouth, clenched her teeth, and swallowed her indignation.

Less than a minute later, a small dish was pushed in front of her.

“Here.”

A peeled egg lay smoothly in the center of the plate. Song Yuhang carried her bowl to the kitchen to get soup.

The butler’s eyes nearly popped out. If he wasn’t mistaken, Song Yuhang was wearing Lin Yan’s shirt—and it was her favorite Armani limited edition one at that!

She was also wearing Lin Yan’s slippers. When she returned, the slightly open collar revealed a large patch of red marks and fingernail scratches.

The elderly butler looked again at his own Young Miss, looking sleep-deprived and listless, and felt heartbroken: Miss, weren’t you supposed to be the one on top?

Of course, he didn’t dare ask this question. He sent the others out to trim the hedges and was about to step forward to clear Lin Yan’s dishes.

Lin Yan pressed a napkin to the corner of her lips. “Eat a little more, just a small bite.”

The butler was startled, unable to see anything special about this home-cooked dish, but he complied with her wish and served her another small bite.

Seeing her eat with relish, Song Yuhang felt a warmth in her heart. “The cafeteria has this noodle dish at noon too, you could try it.”

This sentence somehow hit a nerve with the Young Miss again.

Lin Yan snorted coldly. “I was just curious. Once you’ve had enough, it’s just okay. Who wants to eat pig slop in the cafeteria? Old Lin, continue sending my meals at noon.”

“Yes, Miss,” Uncle Lin bowed respectfully.

Lin Yan stood up, not glancing at Song Yuhang again. “I’m done eating. Clear the table.”

Once in the car, Lin Yan sat in the front passenger seat and started to doze off. Song Yuhang clutched her bag, opening her mouth several times but failing to find the right opportunity to return the repaired mechanical baton.

Tangled in this dilemma, they arrived at the Municipal Public Security Bureau.

“Captain Song didn’t go home last night? Impossible, didn’t Lin-jie drop her off long ago?” Fang Xin stood at the entrance, looking at Ji Jingxing’s anxious face, and also took out her phone to call her.

Still the cold, automated voice—Sorry, the number you have dialed is switched off.

“Lin-jie?” Ji Jingxing caught the name in her words, frowning slightly. “Is that the colleague she’s close with?”

As the two were talking, Lin Yan’s car pulled up. Even the city leaders’ cars weren’t as extravagant as hers, instantly drawing both their gazes.

Fang Xin waved at the car. “Hey, Lin-jie, you’re here.”

Ji Jingxing’s gaze also shifted over.

Lin Yan emerged from the car wearing sunglasses, a shirt dress hugging her fine figure. Her stiletto heels made her legs look exceptionally long and slender—the very picture of an aristocratic socialite⁹.

But when she took off the sunglasses, it was a different story. Leaning against the car door, she gave Fang Xin a roguish smile. “Yo, waiting for big sis?”

Ji Jingxing’s first impression of her dropped significantly¹⁰. Flashy.

How could Song Yuhang get mixed up with someone like this?

The rear car door opened, and Song Yuhang also got out, wearing Lin Yan’s expensive suit jacket, the clothes impeccably ironed, making her appear even taller and more dashingly heroic. Standing next to Lin Yan, the scene was undoubtedly very pleasing to the eye.

Ji Jingxing felt a sting from this scene, her smile somewhat forced. “Yuhang…”

Lin Yan stopped smiling and looked over.

Calling her quite intimately, aren’t we.

Song Yuhang strode forward to meet her. “Sis, why are you here?”

“Mom said you didn’t come home last night, and I couldn’t reach your phone either. I thought maybe you slept at the office… I was passing by on my way to work this morning, so I came to check, and I bought you some breakfast.”

Ji Jingxing said, handing her the soy milk and fried dough sticks.

Song Yuhang seemed to suddenly understand, remembering her phone tossed in her backpack. “Oh, my phone died. I forgot to tell you guys. I slept at a colleague’s place last night.”

Ji Jingxing glanced at Lin Yan, who stood idly by without offering a greeting, letting Ji Jingxing’s gaze sweep over her before turning back.

“I won’t eat the breakfast, I’ve already eaten. These are for my colleagues.”

Song Yuhang was holding a large plastic bag filled with various foods.

Ji Jingxing paused, her smile strained. “Okay, okay, as long as you’re alright, as long as you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, what could happen to me?” Song Yuhang smiled, but Ji Jingxing’s sharp eyes spotted the marks on her neck.

“This… What’s this…”

The rash had subsided but left behind a patch of red marks, along with several conspicuous scratches, strongly resembling some kind of ambiguous product¹¹ of intimacy.

Song Yuhang’s expression flickered evasively. “It’s nothing… I scratched it myself. I’m heading inside then, Sis.”

“Hey—” Ji Jingxing wanted to say more, but Lin Yan had already fallen into step beside Song Yuhang.

“I think she wasn’t here to see you, but rather to see who you were with.”

The woman’s indistinct words reached her ears.

Song Yuhang didn’t get angry, just said, “Isn’t it all the same? Are you full? If not, eat a bit more?”

The two walked side by side. Lin Yan pinched her nose and moved slightly away until their figures completely disappeared into the municipal bureau lobby. Song Yuhang never looked back once.

“Hey, let me ask you, didn’t you drink before?” Lin Yan finally took a cup of soy milk from her, sipping it slowly.

“You mean that night?” Song Yuhang thought for a moment before replying, “I did have a little, but very little, less than 50ml of Mojito.”

Lin Yan gave a soft scoff. “What kind of alcohol is a Mojito? Most are just soda water mixes, stuff concocted by clear bars¹² to fool people. Can’t get you drunk.”

Song Yuhang smiled wryly. “Possibly. Last night was the first time in my life I drank that much, and so quickly.”

Lin Yan averted her gaze. They had reached the Criminal Investigation office. Song Yuhang stopped, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

“Allergic reactions vary from person to person. The cocktail last night wasn’t just alcohol; it had other things too—lemon, soda, whatever. I suggest you go to the hospital for an allergen test, just to be safe.”

Even her concern was tinged with a reluctant, professional sense of duty.

Song Yuhang smiled, inexplicably wanting to reach out and ruffle her hair, but she retracted her hand upon meeting Lin Yan’s gaze. “Don’t worry, I know my own body. I just drank a bit too much, too fast. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Lin Yan snorted, “Hmph,” and walked away haughtily¹³. “I wasn’t worried about you. I was just afraid if you suddenly dropped dead, it would increase my workload.”

Song Yuhang couldn’t help but chuckle. Watching her walk away, she returned to her office, still smiling.

Fang Xin followed behind her, looking at her with a gossipy¹⁴ expression. “Captain Song, I saw the hickey¹⁵ on your neck! Was it you—”

Lin Yan, who hadn’t swallowed her mouthful of soy milk yet, nearly sprayed it all out, coughing violently. “Cough cough! What hickey? That’s a rash from her alcohol allergy, okay?! Besides, what does a hickey on her neck have to do with me! Stop hanging out with Duan Cheng all day watching things unsuitable for minors!”

Saying this, she quickened her pace and walked ahead of Fang Xin. Fang Xin looked at her retreating back with an innocent expression, a knowing, amused smile¹⁶ playing on her lips.

“Aiya, Lin-jie~ If it wasn’t, it wasn’t. Why get so angry~”

Lin Yan: “Shut up. Stop blabbering¹⁷. Get to work.”

Though she said this dismissively, just as she took off her jacket to hang it up, preparing to change into a white coat for the lab, the police alarm rang.

She snatched the jacket back down, slinging it over herself, one sleeve still not on, already grabbing an investigation kit and running out, fumbling with the buttons single-handedly as she ran.

“What are you standing there for?! There’s a call, let’s move out!”

Duan Cheng frantically¹⁸ stuffed the last of his pancake into his mouth, grabbing his camera, shoving the lens into the bag too, his voice muffled. “Wai- wait for me, Lin-jie.”

Fang Xin also put her soy milk down on the desk, grabbed an investigation kit, and ran out, wiping her mouth with a tissue as she went.

Criminal Investigation was ultimately faster than Technical Investigation. By the time they were ready to leave, Song Yuhang was already on the road.

The Bluetooth connected the two vehicles, and the voice from the walkie-talkie came through the driver’s seat speaker: “Receiving a 110¹⁹ public report, a completely naked female corpse has been discovered inside Room 1106, Number 78 Xuanwu Road, Yucai Residential Community, East City District…”

The sun had only been out for a short while before the sky turned completely overcast, making the early morning look almost like dusk.

Lin Yan jumped out of the car, grabbed her investigation kit, lifted the police tape, and strode into the building.

The building management and local police station officers guided them upstairs. The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor.

Crime scene stepping plates²⁰ were already laid out. Song Yuhang, wearing gloves and shoe covers, walked into the pool of blood and sharply pulled back the shower curtain. A naked female corpse lay slumped in the bathtub, head tilted.

A pungent smell of blood assaulted the senses, coupled with the visual impact—a bathtub full of bloody water. Several rookie detectives visibly recoiled.

The technical investigation team entered after changing. Song Yuhang stepped aside, clearing a path for Lin Yan to pass in front of her.

Photography commenced, evidence collection began.

Lin Yan, when working, was thoroughly professional, devoid of that superficial flashy aura.

Song Yuhang glanced at her; she felt confident leaving this scene to her.

The gaze on her disappeared. Sensing someone leaving, Lin Yan’s lips curved slightly beneath her mask.

“Here, collect a water sample too.”

Only after the trace evidence analyst had collected the water sample from the bathtub did she lean closer again to observe the external characteristics of the body.

The girl’s face was pale blue from excessive blood loss, her body completely cold. There were no particular injuries on the parts of her body visible outside the tub. Lin Yan gently lifted the arm hanging over the edge; a razor blade fell out.

Fang Xin used tweezers to pick up the blood-stained blade and placed it in an evidence bag.

Duan Cheng fished the deceased’s other arm out of the pool of bloody water. Sure enough, clearly visible to the naked eye, was a wound on the wrist deep enough to expose bone.

The blood had already drained completely; the wound was soaked white. All the water in this tub was her blood, mixed with water, silently flowing onto the floor during the long night.

His expression turned fearful and pitying. “This… how badly did she want to die!”

“Who reported this?”

“Me, I did!” Someone in the crowd outside raised their hand high. The man, sporting a beer belly and still wearing slippers and loungewear, had clearly rushed out of his home in a panic.

Case officers were taking his statement; Song Yuhang also walked over.

“Tell me the details.”

The man licked his lips, apparently still shaken²¹. “I live downstairs in 1006. This morning around six-something, before dawn, I got up to brush my teeth and wash my face, getting ready for work…”

He seemed lost in the memory, unable to snap out of it, his face pale with fright.

The man was an ordinary office worker with a nine-to-five job. This was a rented apartment, about ten bus stops away from his workplace. His meager salary couldn’t support extravagance, so he woke up early every day to wash up and make his own breakfast.

On this day, just as dawn was breaking, his alarm went off. The man, hair sticking up like a chicken coop²², groggily got out of bed, fumbled his way to the bathroom in the dark, and started his routine.

While brushing his teeth, he felt a few drops of water land on his neck. He didn’t pay much attention, just mentally cursed the upstairs resident and the property management: Damn it, this crappy building is leaking again.

He spat out the foam, rinsed his mouth, and turned on the tap to wash his face. As he washed, he started to feel something was wrong.

The dripping increased, and it felt very cold, sticky, chilling to the bone in the early autumn air.

The man shivered inexplicably. The tap was still running. He reached up to wipe the back of his neck and simultaneously flicked on the light switch. When he saw clearly the liquid in his palm, he cried out in shock, collapsing onto the floor.

It was blood! Blood!

He watched, horrified, as blood started seeping through his ceiling, drop by drop, falling into the washbasin.

The bloodstains rippled with the water, flowing down the drain.

The man, trembling all over, lips quivering, thought he was having a nightmare from watching too many horror movies. He pinched himself hard. When the familiar pain hit, he stumbled to his feet, still in his pajamas, and ran out to find property management and call the police.

“That’s what happened…” The man swallowed hard, desperately trying to forget the scene but only sinking deeper into it, his face etched with profound fear.

Song Yuhang signaled someone to offer him a cigarette to calm his nerves.

“Do you remember what time you got up?”

The man took it but didn’t smoke, just held it near his nose and inhaled deeply a few times. “I… I remember. My alarm is set for six-thirty. I got up when it rang. Probably took a minute or two to get to the bathroom.”

“Do you know the resident upstairs?”

The man nodded. “I do. A student, I think. Seen her a few times in the elevator, exchanged greetings. How could she suddenly…”

Song Yuhang glanced at him and the property managers. “Lived alone? Parents? Or was it rented?”

A property manager stepped forward. “Not rented, she’s a resident. Lived here for many years. The young lady’s name is Fan Lin²³. The head of household²⁴ is listed as her father. After her parents divorced some years ago, we never saw him come back. Only her mother came to see her every now and then.”

Song Yuhang instructed a junior detective to relay this information back to the bureau for Zheng Chengrui to find the girl’s biological parents and notify the family.

The crowd of onlookers watched them bustling about and, hearing the property manager’s words, began whispering among themselves.

“Aiya, how pitiful. Parents divorced, remarried, and didn’t want the poor child.”

“Isn’t that the truth? I’ve lived here for decades, practically watched this little girl grow up. How could she just be gone like that?”

While some lamented, others spoke cynically.

“Didn’t we hear her arguing with her mom upstairs when the college acceptance letters came out a while back? She wanted to repeat the year, but her mom wouldn’t let her. Maybe she just couldn’t get over it…”

“How do you know so much?”

“Me? My son was her classmate. But my son did well this year, got into Provincial U²⁵.”

“Oh wow, that’s really good. Congratulations, congratulations.”

…

A few junior officers remained outside, continuing to take statements from neighbors upstairs and downstairs. Song Yuhang put her gloves back on and re-entered the apartment.

The external body examination was halfway through. Duan Cheng was holding the investigation light for her. Song Yuhang reached out and took it. “I’ll do it. Any findings?”

Lin Yan happened to be placing a measuring scale on the deceased’s wrist. “Left wrist has an incision approximately 5cm long, visible to the naked eye, deep enough to expose bone. And it was dragged repeatedly several times.”

The girl’s wrist was already soaked to the point where the skin was split and flesh gaped open²⁶, revealing blood vessels and nerves. With a small, sharp object like a razor blade, only repeated friction could create such an effect. Indeed, there were superficial scratches parallel to the main cut on the girl’s wrist.

In forensic medicine, these are called: hesitation cuts²⁷.

The two exchanged a look. Song Yuhang’s lips tightened.

Lin Yan understood what she was thinking. “Don’t worry. With the lesson learned from He Miao’s case²⁸, I won’t jump to conclusions.”

Song Yuhang patted her shoulder and handed the investigation light to someone else. “I’ll check outside.”

Trace evidence analysis was also proceeding rapidly.

Fang Xin dusted the doorknob with carbon powder²⁹ until a fingerprint emerged. She quickly lifted it³⁰.

Song Yuhang did a quick sweep. Doors and windows were intact, no signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle. Only the girl’s footprints and those of the initial reporting individuals were inside.

The refrigerator held little food, mostly instant items like dumplings, sweet rice balls, and instant noodles, consistent with the deceased’s status as a student living alone.

On the bookshelf in the living room sat a photo frame. Song Yuhang reached out and took it down. The photo had been wiped very clean.

Standing in the center was the deceased, looking about seven or eight years old, a happy family of three.

Song Yuhang put it back, then went to check the trash bin, finding several shredded test paper fragments. She picked them up and put them in an evidence bag.

There were also a few takeout receipts and supermarket bills, which were collected one by one. These could potentially become crucial clues for solving the case later.

After checking the trash bin, her gaze fell on an empty glass on the coffee table. A trace of liquid remained at the bottom.

She picked it up, holding it against the light and turning it. There was a fingerprint on the glass wall. “Fang Xin, there’s another print here. Come extract it.”

“Okay, Captain Song,” Fang Xin responded and came over.

Song Yuhang walked to the other side, got down on the floor to check under the sofa, then lifted the rug to look.

Very clean.

People living alone tend to be somewhat casual, especially a female student who likely wouldn’t have much time for housework. Yet even the hairs on the rug had been meticulously picked up.

Not OCD, not a neat freak.

“Captain Song, found something here,” called the detective examining the girl’s bedroom.

Song Yuhang stood up and walked over. The officer handed her the phone retrieved from the desk. “Found an unsent message in the deceased’s phone.”

—Goodbye forever, Mom. I have been unfilial. In this life, I failed to be the daughter you hoped for. I will repay the debt of raising me in the next life.

The phone lock had already been bypassed by technical personnel. Song Yuhang quickly scrolled through a few pages; mostly junk messages from service providers.

She exited and went to the girl’s photo album. There were selfies, some landscape photos, and also several pictures of ocean whales.

She felt they looked familiar but couldn’t recall where she had seen them.

Just then, someone called from the doorway: “Captain Song, we’ve contacted the deceased’s mother.”

LP: Re-translated on April, 18, 2024

Footnotes

神游天外 | shényóu tiānwài | Lit. “spirit roaming beyond the heavens”; Spacing out, lost in thought.
不食人間煙火 | bù shí rénjiān yānhuǒ | Lit. “doesn’t eat the smoke and fire of the human world”; Describes someone ethereal, detached from mundane life, often implying aloofness or purity.
五谷雜糧 | wǔgǔ záliáng | Lit. “five grains and miscellaneous cereals”; Refers to staple foods.
五髒廟 | wǔzàng miào | Lit. “temple of the five viscera (heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys)”; Colloquial term for the stomach or appetite.
妖魔鬼怪 | yāomó guǐguài | Lit. “demons, devils, ghosts, and monsters”; Often used metaphorically for wicked or strange people/things.
英雄氣短 | yīngxióng qìduǎn | Lit. “hero’s breath is short”; Even heroes can lose heart or feel discouraged in certain situations.
感天動地 | gǎntiān dòngdì | Lit. “moves heaven and shakes earth”; Hyperbole for something deeply moving or shocking.
老淚縱橫 | lǎolèi zònghéng | Lit. “old tears flow horizontally and vertically”; Describes an elderly person weeping profusely.
贵族名媛範 | guìzú míngyuàn fàn | Lit. “aristocratic famous-daughter style”; Embodies the look/aura of a wealthy socialite.
打了個折扣 | dǎle ge zhékòu | Lit. “gave a discount”; Idiomatic phrase meaning something was diminished or viewed less favorably.
暧昧産物 | àimèi chǎnwù | Lit. “ambiguous product/result”; Euphemism often implying marks resulting from intimacy, like hickeys or scratches.
清吧 | qīngbā | A type of bar, often quieter and more relaxed than a nightclub, sometimes focusing on cocktails or lighter drinks.
趾高氣揚 | zhǐgāo qìyáng | Lit. “toes high, spirits lifted”; Strutting about proudly, arrogant, haughty.
八卦 | bāguà | Lit. “eight trigrams”; Slang for gossip or gossipy.
草莓印 | cǎoméi yìn | Lit. “strawberry print/mark”; Common slang for a hickey or love bite.
姨母笑 | yímǔ xiào | Lit. “auntie smile”; Modern internet slang describing the fond, knowing, slightly amused smile someone (often an older woman, hence ‘auntie’) might have when observing romantic or cute interactions between younger people, sometimes with a ‘shipping’ connotation.
别哔哔 | bié bībī | Colloquial/slang, often online. ‘Bībī’ mimics the sound of chatter or nagging. Means “stop talking nonsense,” “stop rambling,” or “shut up.”
七手八腳 | qī shǒu bā jiǎo | Lit. “seven hands, eight feet”; Describes frantic, uncoordinated activity, often by multiple people, but can apply to one person rushing.
110 | yīyāolíng | The emergency police number in China.
勘查踏板 | kānchá tàbǎn | Stepping plates used at crime scenes to avoid contaminating evidence.
心有餘悸 | xīn yǒu yújì | Lit. “heart still has lingering fear”; Shaken, still feeling the fear after the event.
雞窩頭 | jīwōtóu | Lit. “chicken nest head”; Messy, unkempt hair, bedhead.
範琳 | Fàn Lín
戶主 | hùzhǔ | Registered head of the household.
省大 | Shěngdà | Abbreviation for 省立大学 (Shěnglì Dàxué) or similar, meaning Provincial University.
皮開肉綻 | píkāi ròuzhàn | Lit. “skin splits open and flesh bursts forth”; Describes a severe laceration or wound.
試切創 | shìqiēchuāng | Lit. “trial cuts”; Hesitation marks/cuts, often found in suicides involving sharp instruments.
前車之鑒 | qiánchē zhī jiàn | Lit. “warning from the overturned cart in front”; A lesson learned from a predecessor’s failure or mistake.
碳粉 | tànfěn | Carbon powder (used for developing latent fingerprints).
拓印 | tuòyìn | To make a rubbing or lift (often used for fingerprints or inscriptions).

4 Comments

Merrel

Nov 14, '23 at 2:46 PM

Why do I have a feeling the sister in law likes her??🤨

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Awaiting moderation.
1. hela2851
  
  @Merrel • Feb 19, '24 at 10:56 PM
  
  I been having the same feeling for several chapters now. Sister-in-law is not very subtle, Lin Yan picked things up right away, Yuhang is just a little bit dense. 😮‍💨
  
  Awaiting moderation.
Merrel

Nov 14, '23 at 1:46 AM

Why do I have a feeling the sister in law likes her??🤨

Log in to Reply

Awaiting moderation.
1. hela2851
  
  @Merrel • Feb 19, '24 at 9:56 AM
  
  I been having the same feeling for several chapters now. Sister-in-law is not very subtle, Lin Yan picked things up right away, Yuhang is just a little bit dense. 😮‍💨
  
  Awaiting moderation.