Miss Forensics – Chapter 102

Wife

Song Yuhang’s wife, Lin Yan

The cemetery.

The two of them knocked out the patrolling night watchman and slipped in under the cover of darkness.

With a shovel in hand, Song Yuhang turned over the earth, scoop by scoop, loosening the soil to reveal the inner coffin of reinforced concrete.

She was breathing heavily, her gaze falling into a trance as she stared at the photograph on the tombstone.

Jingzhe: “Why don’t we… just forget it.”

After all, this was disturbing someone’s peace. The dead were to be respected.

Song Yuhang gritted her teeth, her eyes red as she snatched a bottle from his hand and began to pour the liquid onto the concrete.

“If Lin Yan is to blame anyone, let her blame me. Once this case is over, after I’ve seen my mother through her old age and laid her to rest, I’ll go down and join her.”

At that moment, a final shred of hope remained within her—the hope that the person in this coffin was not her.

That Lin Yan had only faked her death and gone into hiding, or that she had all sorts of unavoidable reasons for not being able to see her.

The strong acid rapidly corroded the concrete, letting out a soft “hiss, hiss, hiss” sound. After a pungent, volatile odor dissipated, several cracks split open on the sturdy concrete surface.

Song Yuhang brought the shovel down, and stone fragments shattered and fell away. Seeing her like this, Jingzhe could only shake his head and sigh, joining her in the work.

Soon, the pitch-black coffin was laid bare before their eyes.

Jingzhe used a wrench to pry open the bolts sealing the coffin. The shovel fell from Song Yuhang’s hand, and she reached out, trembling, to caress the casket.

She was the one who had insisted on opening the coffin to examine the body, and she was also the one who couldn’t bring herself to face reality.

Jingzhe took a cigarette from its pack, flicked his lighter, and lit it. “I’ll go keep watch over there.”

With that, he walked to one side, giving her space.

Song Yuhang’s palm rested on the cold coffin, still covered with coarse, damp soil and lime particles. Amidst the scent of old, decaying wood was a faint, foul smell of rot.

She stroked it as gently as if caressing a lover, pressing her forehead against the casket, her eyes reddening as she murmured to herself.

“I’m sorry, Lin Yan, I’m sorry. Forgive my selfishness…”

“Once the case is solved and the killer is caught, after our mom passes away, I’ll come down to be with you. Don’t be scared, okay? Don’t be scared.”

“It’ll be soon. Wait for me. I won’t leave you alone.”

Song Yuhang choked on her sobs, her forehead rubbing a red mark against the casket as tears fell silently into the dirt.

Gritting her teeth, she endured the heart-drilling agony and pushed open the coffin lid.

This time, she did not close her eyes. She had to see her, see her clearly, to carve every part of her into her very bones and blood, to let memory and hatred surge through her heart together, to be polished and deepened over and over until they became the strength that would keep her alive.

In this process, her heart was subjected to a slow slicing, over and over. Her entire being felt as if it had undergone a dismemberment by five horses¹, only to finally have her bones ground to dust and her ashes scattered².

She fell to her knees, clapping a hand over her mouth, her nails digging deep into her flesh. Even as she desperately suppressed her cries, Jingzhe, standing not far away, still heard a faint whimper, like that of a young animal.

He stubbed out his cigarette, looked up at the moon in the sky, and let out a long sigh.

If I had known it would be like this, why did I have to come and open the coffin?

But he still had to remind her that it was almost time for the changing of the guard.

Jingzhe put his index finger to his lips and let out a sharp whistle.

The temperature was low in winter, so the body’s decomposition was relatively slow. But even so, that once-unforgettable face had become completely unrecognizable.

Song Yuhang reached out, wanting to touch her, but ultimately couldn’t bear to. She pulled her hand back, her entire body trembling as she bit her lip.

Jingzhe’s whistle pulled back what little rationality she had left. Song Yuhang sniffled, lifted the corpse’s clothing, and saw the bowl-sized scar on the shoulder. It was still there, already blackened, with unknown larvae squirming inside.

It was the scar left from the last time Lin Yan had been shot, a unique mark that belonged only to her.

Song Yuhang let go, slumping to the ground.

She could no longer cry. Her mind was completely blank.

The world around her was spinning, round and round. There was only one thought in her mind: Lin Yan is dead? Lin Yan is dead?

Lin Yan was really dead.

Her fiancée… was gone.

Song Yuhang muttered to herself, a montage of their entire life together, from the day they met to the day they fell in love, flashing through her mind like a revolving lantern³.

Jingzhe walked over. “We have to go.”

Song Yuhang was still immersed in her own world, crying one moment and laughing the next.

Jingzhe’s tone grew heavier. “Miss Song!”

Song Yuhang snapped back to her senses. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the still-open coffin. “Give me a few more minutes.”

As she spoke, she climbed up from the ground, crawling on her knees to the body’s side. She took a ring box from her pocket, removed a sparkling diamond ring, and gently lifted the corpse’s hand, slowly sliding it on.

Jingzhe watched as she put the ring on, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, Yanyan, for not proposing to you sooner, and for disturbing your peace now. But I really miss you. I really, really, really miss you. When you get to the underworld, don’t be afraid of being lonely. Once you wear this ring, you’re my person. If the King of Hell⁴ asks who you are, just say you’re Song Yuhang’s wife, Lin Yan. You just wait for me a little longer, wait for me to find you. We’ll spend our next life together, too.”

Song Yuhang gripped the cold wrist, forcing the ring onto the swollen knuckle, her voice breaking with sobs.

“Miss Song…” Jingzhe glanced at his watch, urging her.

Song Yuhang nodded, grabbing the cold, pale hand and lifting it to her lips for a kiss. “I love you, Lin Yan.”

Judging by this scene alone—opening a coffin late at night to kiss a corpse—it was enough to give one goosebumps. But to Jingzhe, who knew the inside story, he only felt it was a kind of perverse romance.

It was just that they were truly running out of time. They still had to restore the scene to its original state, to at least let the young lady rest in peace.

Song Yuhang got up and moved aside, watching as he closed the coffin lid, bit by bit.

Her Lin Yan was gone from her, after all, gone to another place free from sickness and pain. She hoped she would be well there. No, how could she be well? She was a person so lacking in security, so afraid of being alone.

But it’s okay, Lin Yan. I will fulfill your unfinished wishes for you.

Don’t be afraid. Just hold on, wait for me. Soon, very soon, I will come to be with you.

I hope you can still remember me then. But it’s okay if you forget, too.

I’ll make you fall in love with me all over again. I swear.

---

After leaving the cemetery, Song Yuhang went to Qingshan Villa.

The entrance was sealed with official tape, and the electronic fingerprint lock had been dismantled. She struggled to climb over the iron gate, tumbling over the top. Her movements were still not very agile, and because her mind was in a daze, she lost her grip and fell, crashing to the ground in a flash of stars.

She lay on the cold ground for a while before slowly getting up and limping toward the house.

Pushing open the glass doors to the main hall, she found the house had been emptied. She pressed the switch for the wall lamp, but it didn’t light up; the water and electricity had been cut off.

She slowly walked to where the sofa used to be, sat down in the dark, and hugged her knees.

“I wouldn’t dare assault a police officer, I just ran into some crazy woman who hit someone and then—”

“Hah, don’t even mention it. I set out early this morning and ran into two lunatics who threw themselves at my car like they had a death wish.”

“He can’t afford a diamond ring? I’ll give you one.”

“If it’s from Forensic Doctor Lin, I wouldn’t even want a pop-tab ring.”

“The real Lin Yan died long ago, when she was six. The one living now is just a shell, a demon.”

“I only know that the person standing before me now is my comrade-in-arms, Song Yuhang’s partner in life and death.”

“My, my, someone here is getting on in years, and not only do they not have a sex life, they’re even all shy and hesitant about taking off their clothes for a check-up.”

“What’s wrong with being a virgin? I can still make you feel a pleasure akin to death.”

“This glass of wine, what’s its name?”

“The future is long.”

“It must be pretty important to you. It would be… a shame to lose it.”

“I carry it with me only because it’s familiar to use. It doesn’t have any other meaning. But… now it does.”

“There was something I didn’t have the courage to say just now.”

“What?”

“You are my faith, too.”

“Where’s my fiancée?”

“Alive. By your side.”

…

Remembering the past, the corners of Song Yuhang’s lips curved into a smile, but as she smiled, she began to choke up again, burying her head in her arms.

It was strange. Because of Lin Yan’s personality, she had never once said the word “love” to her. The only time she had directly responded to her proposal was with that simple phrase, “Alive. By your side.”

But she had still died, leaving her forever.

That declaration had become a farewell.

Lin Yan, you liar, you big liar…

Song Yuhang muttered, large tears smashing onto the floor.

During the days they were fighting, she had also doubted whether Lin Yan truly liked her. If she did, she wouldn’t have gone out and acted ambiguously with other men.

She knew she shouldn’t think that way, but she couldn’t stop herself, which led to her acting so brutishly toward her that night.

It turned out it wasn’t that she didn’t love her; she had just hidden all her love deep in her heart.

She was just that kind of person: awkward, who never said what she meant, with a venomous tongue but an incomparably kind and warm heart.

As Song Yuhang recalled everything about her, deep nostalgia mingled with regret. She bit her own wrist, and a whimper like the cry of a wounded animal filled the dark room.

---

The Sino-Burmese border.

A small boat glided silently across the river’s surface.

On the boat with her were several burly men, as well as young girls brought back from northern Myanmar. These were all fresh goods to be presented to a big shot.

The woman’s bright red nails lifted their conical hats. Satisfied with her merchandise, she calculated in her head that they should fetch a good price, and her smile widened.

The boatman poling the boat turned his head and chattered a sentence in the local language: “The Chinese side has tightened security recently. We can only smuggle our way through the jungle.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, unconcerned, and replied in Burmese, “As fast as possible. Don’t keep the buyer waiting.”

The other person nodded and steered the boat into a fork in the river. The current gradually slowed, and the boat’s speed decreased.

Knowing they were about to arrive, the group began to pack their things. The girls, their hands tied, were roughly pulled to their feet.

The boatman pulled the boat ashore and turned to help her off.

The woman looked at the pitch-black jungle and had a strange, bad premonition, muttering, “I’ve never been to this place before.”

As she spoke, she reached out to place her hand on his wrist. The boatman kept his head bowed respectfully and gave a slight nod.

By the moonlight, she saw that the face under the conical hat had strong brows and large eyes. It was a new face.

The woman’s heart jumped. Her gaze fell to the webbing on his tiger’s mouth⁵. Calluses from a gun!

She leaned against him limply. “Oh, it’s so shaky. Hold me.”

The boatman wrapped an arm around her waist. The woman pulled a gun from behind her back, but at the very moment she drew it—

The boatman moved too, executing a standard counter-grapple to pin her. The woman raised her hand and fired a shot.

The gunshot startled the birds in the forest into flight. The boat rocked, and the boatman fell backward into the border river. A pale red stain of blood spread out, drifting away in wisps with the current.

As if her gunshot had flipped several switches, tongues of fire erupted from the pitch-black jungle.

“Da-da-da—” The sound of submachine guns was incessant. The people on the boat began to return fire, but their firepower was ultimately no match for the dense barrage from the other side, and they were completely suppressed. The girls screamed.

The woman casually grabbed a person to use as a human shield. She looked back and saw that all the men who had come with her had either fallen on the boat or been shot and tumbled into the river.

She gritted her teeth, shoved the already-dead subordinate away, and with a “plop,” jumped into the river herself.

The people in the jungle lowered their guns, and a sharp voice barked, “After her!”

The woman didn’t know how long she drifted in the cold border river until her strength was completely exhausted. All around her was quiet; there was no sign of her pursuers.

She coughed a few times and scrambled ashore, exhausted. Unexpectedly, just as she raised her head, the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed against her forehead.

She looked coldly at the tall, sturdy young men and asked in fluent Mandarin.

“Who sent you? The Burmese military? Or Laos? Or—”

She paused. “The Chinese police?”

One of them smashed the butt of his rifle into her. “You don’t need to know that.”

---

When the first ray of morning sun cast itself upon the floor, Song Yuhang, who hadn’t slept all night, lifted her head from her arms.

She took the remaining, solitary ring from the box and slowly slid it onto her own ring finger.

She spoke softly to the empty room, “Lin Yan, did you see? We’re… married.”

In the silence of the room, only the sunlight fell on the corners of her eyes and brows, bringing a trace of warmth to her cold body.

Song Yuhang curved her lips into a small smile, moved her stiff body, and climbed up from the floor. Limping, she walked unsteadily out the main door.

She went straight to a mobile phone store, staring in a daze at the dazzling array of phones.

A clerk enthusiastically made a recommendation. “Miss, which model are you looking for? We have the new—”

The clerk chattered on and on, a torrent of words, but her gaze was fixed on an old model deep inside the display case, one identical to her old phone.

Song Yuhang pointed and said in a hoarse voice, “I’ll take that one.”

The clerk pursed his lips and secretly rolled his eyes. He thought he was getting a big sale first thing in the morning, but who knew it would be some poor woman interested in a model that was several years old.

Song Yuhang waited for the clerk to gather the accessories and hand them to her, but he asked another question, “Miss, do you need a new SIM card for the new phone?”

She thought for a moment. “I lost my old card. Can I report it lost and get a replacement? I want my old number.”

Although her phone was lost and most of her photos and chat logs were gone, that number carried too many of their stories and deep affections.

She still held onto a foolish hope—what if, what if a parallel universe existed? What if, what if Lin Yan wanted to call her one day?

If she changed her number, Lin Yan wouldn’t be able to find her.

A look of impatience crossed the staff member’s face. Song Yuhang silently took out a few more red bills⁶ and placed them on the counter.

The other’s face broke into a wide smile. “Of course, please give me your ID card.”

Half an hour later, Song Yuhang walked out of the store with her new phone and took a taxi straight to the Municipal Public Security Bureau.

It was the start of the workday. The moment she appeared at the entrance, countless pairs of eyes latched onto her, gazes of all kinds swirling around her.

“Captain Song, you don’t have to rush back to work if you haven’t recovered yet.”

“Captain Song, are you… really okay?”

“Captain Song, we all heard… Ah, our condolences.”

…

Faced with her colleagues’ kindness, Song Yuhang’s heart had long since grown numb to the pain.

She just curved her lips into a mechanical smile, a smile that never reached her eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You all get back to work. Where’s Director Feng?”

“Director Feng went out for a meeting early this morning. He’s not back yet.”

Song Yuhang nodded and got straight to the point. “The kidnapper who survived the abduction of Xiao Wei, have you caught him?”

The crowd exchanged glances. Xue Rui looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“We caught him…”

Song Yuhang cut him off. “Where is he being held?”

A young officer answered, saying sheepishly, “Director Feng is interrogating him personally. He told us not to say.”

Before his voice had even faded, something seemed to snap one of her sensitive nerves, and she had already grabbed him by the collar.

Song Yuhang’s eyes were bloodshot. “What, I haven’t even been dismissed from my post, and now you’re all guarding against me like I’m a thief?”

Xue Rui: “Captain Song, calm down, calm down. We can understand how you feel, but Director Feng’s orders really are… Please don’t make things difficult for us.”

Song Yuhang let go, shoving the man away. “Fine. I won’t make things difficult for you. I’ll find him myself.”

With that, she strode away.

Xue Rui slapped his forehead. “It’s over. Report to Director Feng, quickly.”

On the way from the office to the bureau’s front gate, Song Yuhang recalled the details of her contact with Fatty, as well as the possible places he could be held in Jiangcheng City.

An image of the needle marks on his arm flashed through her mind. Song Yuhang pulled open a taxi door.

“Sir, to the Jiangcheng City Compulsory Drug Rehabilitation Center.”

When she arrived at the entrance, she was stopped by the guard post. She shoved her credentials straight into the guard’s face.

This was something only the old Lin Yan would have done.

“Song Yuhang, Captain of the Criminal Investigation Detachment, Jiangcheng City Public Security Bureau. Open the gate. I need to interrogate a prisoner.”

The steel stamp on the credentials wasn’t fake, but the key issue was that interrogating a prisoner required written authorization.

The prison guard complained bitterly, “Captain Song, Captain Song, this…”

Before he could finish, he was shoved aside. Song Yuhang charged straight in, and the guard hurried after her.

This was a leader, big or small; he couldn’t afford to offend her.

“Captain Song, Captain Song, first tell me which prisoner you want to interrogate, and I’ll go get him for you. The paperwork can be done later…”

His intention was to stall until the warden arrived to handle the matter, but who knew that Song Yuhang would act as if she hadn’t heard him, charging headfirst inside, practically jogging as she peered through the bars of each cell door.

The guard tried to block her path. “Captain Song!”

Song Yuhang ignored him. Annoyed that he was in her way, she pushed him aside.

The guard staggered back two steps and bumped into the railing, shouting in a shrill voice, “Captain Song, Captain Song, if you keep this up, I’m going to call for backup!”

Song Yuhang ran past an iron door, then doubled back, peering through the small window.

The guard thought she had finally stopped, but who knew she would actually come back, her eyes locking onto the keys hanging from his belt.

“Give me the keys.”

The guard clutched the keyring tightly and backed away. “Captain Song, Captain Song, I can’t do that, it’s… it’s against regulations.”

Song Yuhang grabbed him by the collar and roared, “My f#cking wife is gone, who gives a sh#t about your damn rules and regulations!!!”

Taking advantage of his stunned state, Song Yuhang threw a punch. The young guard covered his face. But it was a feint; she snatched the keyring from his waist, rushed to the door, unlocked it, and slammed it shut with a “bang” before the main group of guards could arrive, jamming the lock from the inside.

She ignored the thunderous pounding on the door outside.

It was a narrow, single-person cell with four high walls and only one small, barred window for ventilation. Fatty was sleeping but shot up from the bed at the noise, shrinking back in terror as he watched her approach step by step, her tall figure blocking the sunlight.

“What… what are you doing? Aren’t you… aren’t you a po… police officer?”

Out of fear, his voice was somewhat sharp.

The room was only so big. His back was already pressed against the solid wall, with no room to retreat.

Song Yuhang clenched her fists. “You can still sleep? You can actually sleep with a clear conscience? How the f#ck can you still be sleeping?”

She gritted her teeth, every word dripping with blood, looking as if she wanted to swallow him alive.

“He… help!” Fatty was in handcuffs and had no way to resist. He cried and wailed toward the door, trying to slip away.

Song Yuhang kicked him to the ground, reached out, and clamped her hand around his neck. The force was so great that her knuckles turned a pale, bluish-white.

“Speak! Who sent you to kidnap Xiao Wei? Speak! Who sent you to lure us there?”

Over the past few days, she had forced herself through the grief to go over the timeline again.

The habitual child trafficker who appeared around the Spring Festival; Lin Yan’s car being vandalized; someone knowing she would have to switch cars and tampering with the Audi she got, which indirectly led to her plunging into the sea, and Lin Yan risking her life to save her.

Not to mention Xiao Wei’s earlier kidnapping, where she was forced to dance to the other party’s tune, led around in circles. And what Ji Jingxing had said, that someone had installed a bulletproof steel door in the lumber mill workshop with the aim of trapping them—including Lin Yan—to die.

And the sniper who appeared later, who shot the skinny kidnapper first because he was about to tell her the truth.

Taking a step back, even if that sniper hadn’t managed to kill them in the end, she would have died for sure driving a faulty car in pursuit on such a treacherous, snow-covered, and slippery road.

Then, the only goal was—

A chill ran down Song Yuhang’s spine. This was a death trap set for her, which Lin Yan had defused with her intelligence—the dust explosion.

But if time could be turned back, she would rather Lin Yan hadn’t been so clever, that she had just stayed in that workshop and never come out.

Song Yuhang seethed with hatred. This mastermind, in order to take her life, had not hesitated to drag in so many innocent people.

Her mother, her sister-in-law, her niece, her… Lin Yan.

Song Yuhang’s eyes burned, her grip on his neck tightening as she roared hoarsely, “Speak?! Who told you to do this?!”

Fatty struggled, his chubby hands clawing uselessly at the floor, his face ashen as his eyes rolled back. “I… I don’t know… cough… cough cough… help… help me…”

He still clung to a final shred of hope, looking toward the door.

Song Yuhang was a police officer. She wouldn’t kill him in a prison.

“Do you really think,” she stood in the shadows, a cold smile playing on her lips, “that I won’t kill you.”

Fatty looked at the viciousness in her eyes, her despair, her fury, all of which finally coalesced into an icy killing intent.

Before he could scream, his mouth was stuffed with a wad of paper. She had torn the books that prisoners used for study and writing to shreds, plastering them to his face one by one and splashing water on them.

“Do you really think I won’t kill you?” Song Yuhang repeated in a low voice, tearing off another piece of paper, wetting it with water, and slapping it onto his face.

“Do you know why? It’s because I want…”

“To torture you slowly.”

“Do you know what this is called?” she asked numbly, tearing another piece of paper and placing it on him, watching as the wet paper revealed the contours of his face. Fatty was gasping for breath, unable to speak.

“This is called death by suffocation with wet paper over the face. It’s a form of torture that’s been around for three thousand years. In ancient times, it was called ‘Bestowing an Official Post⁷.’ One layer promotes you nine ranks. A promotion and a fortune. Didn’t you want money?”

Song Yuhang murmured, a slow smile spreading across her face as she tore off another piece. “Here, for you, for you, it’s all for you!”

She suddenly gritted her teeth and slapped all the paper in her hand onto his face, then threw the entire cup of water at him.

The paper was of good quality and airtight, which only accelerated the loss of oxygen.

Fatty trembled violently, the paper, thin as a cicada’s wing, rising and falling with his every breath.

He soon became breathless from hypoxia, his breathing as heavy as a bellows. The combination of terror and the physiological reaction before death quickly caused a large wet patch to spread across his pants, emitting a foul odor.

Song Yuhang began tearing the book again, the ripping sound filling her ears.

Fatty fell to his knees, managing to raise a single, trembling finger.

Song Yuhang kicked him over and ripped the paper from his face. “Speak!”

The moment the paper was removed, Fatty burst into tears, begging and pleading, “Grandma, I’ll talk, I’ll talk! Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!”

Song Yuhang grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up. “Speak! Who sent you to kidnap the child?!”

“I don’t know either, I don’t know him. I was just paid to do a job… paid to do a job!”

“What does he look like?”

“A man, about 1.7 meters tall, thin and tall, well-dressed, wearing a watch that looked very expensive. He has a birthmark the size of a fingernail on his right wrist!”

Fatty gasped for breath, spitting it all out in one go, cleaner and more direct than anything he had told Director Feng.

“Where can I find him?”

“The Huange Nightclub! We always met there!”

“Where did you sell the children after you kidnapped them?!”

“To Auntie Hong, a woman named Auntie Hong! I don’t know where she sells them after that.”

Song Yuhang shoved him away and stood up. Still not satisfied, she turned back and kicked him viciously in the face several times. Her combat boots were studded with rivets and had thick soles.

“F#ck your mother, you trafficker!”

Fatty let out a miserable scream, blood spraying from his nose as he cried for his parents.

“You’re still screaming? You have the f#cking nerve to scream?! Shut the f#ck up!” Song Yuhang was about to move again when the door was violently broken down and a swarm of prison guards rushed in, pinning her to the ground.

With a “click,” handcuffs were snapped onto her wrists.

Song Yuhang didn’t resist, letting them escort her out the door and into a police car. She only turned her head back, her red eyes staring daggers at Fatty, looking as if she wanted to swallow him alive, until he was out of sight.

Fatty, chilled to the bone, hugged his head and curled into a ball, thinking, This f#cking prison isn’t safe either.

---

The iron door closed with a soft “clang.” Feng Jianguo cleared his throat and sat down opposite her, looking at her lowered head and silent form.

“Director Feng, she won’t say anything no matter how we ask. What do you think…”

What do I think? It’s not like I can use torture on a suspect like she did.

Feng Jianguo suppressed his anger. “All of you, leave.”

This meant he was going to interrogate her alone.

The case officers exchanged a look, picked up their notebooks, and exited.

Only when everyone was gone did Feng Jianguo speak. “Tell me. Why did you go to the drug rehabilitation center?”

Song Yuhang lazily lifted her eyelids, glanced at the camera on the wall, and let out a sarcastic smile.

Normally, she would never smile like that. It was Lin Yan’s habitual expression.

Feng Jianguo’s heart skipped a beat. He calmly walked over and turned off the camera. The monitor screen went black.

“Can you talk now?”

Song Yuhang leaned forward. “I have nothing to say. I hit him to vent my anger for Lin Yan. If Director Feng detains me today, all you’ll get is a prisoner. If you let me go, I am willing to be your pawn before the horse⁸, to solve a monumental case and achieve an unparalleled merit. At least, the kind of merit that can get you the position you want.”

Feng Jianguo watched her quietly. There was something in her pale brown pupils that he couldn’t understand.

The old her would never have been able to say such things; she wouldn’t even have been willing to think about such matters.

All her focus was on solving cases. She was a simple and pure person.

It was Lin Yan’s appearance that had given her warmth, made her like a living, breathing “person.” And it was Lin Yan’s death that had made her complex, made her no longer seem like a “person.”

Feng Jianguo sighed quietly in his heart, not knowing if this move was the right one or the wrong one.

“How do you know I want those things? What if I really just want to uphold justice and righteousness? Even if you are Department Head Zhao’s⁹ disciple, the face of our Jiangcheng City Bureau, you still have to be punished for your mistakes.”

Song Yuhang curled her lip into a smile. “Only when I sat in the captain’s seat of the criminal investigation team did I realize that power and money are things everyone wants. The only difference is the means by which they are obtained.”

“I help you get promoted, you give me the chance to solve the case. It’s very fair.”

As if he had heard a hilarious joke, he picked up his teacup and let out a short laugh, then set it down. He clasped his hands together and watched her quietly.

“I can help you—”

Song Yuhang was slightly stunned.

He continued, “But it is absolutely not because I want a promotion. I am not so pathetic as to need to rely on someone else’s merits to climb the ladder. There is only one reason I will help you.”

“And that is the hope that the criminals can be brought to justice, and that justice and righteousness can be served.”

Song Yuhang’s nose tingled, and tears quickly welled up in her eyes. “Why? Didn’t you always hate Lin Yan?”

The old man blew at his beard and glared¹⁰, “Who said I hated her?”

---

LP: No, no, no! I’ll just pretend it’s a conveniently realistic body double of Lin Yan!

Re-translated on July 09, 2025

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