Miss Forensics – Chapter 19

Volume One: First Scroll

Confrontation

Good and evil lie in a single thought.

Another thunderclap split the sky, lightning briefly illuminating the room. In the operations room, everyone attended to their duties, footsteps hurried and expressions grave. No one spoke; through the curling smoke, only occasional coughs and the rapid tapping of keyboards could be heard.

Song Yuhang pressed her temples, having not properly rested for a week. Anxiety had caused several blood blisters in her mouth, which she pressed with her tongue, using the pain to fight off drowsiness.

The office phone rang sharply. Someone quickly answered it, then turned to call out to her: “Captain Song, we have new leads!”

Song Yuhang rushed over in a single stride, her voice unsteady: “Hello?!”

Fang Xin held the phone for her while Lin Yan lay on the ground, measuring traces with a tape measure. Her usually boisterous voice now sounded oddly comforting.

“150×70×60! I’ve got it! It’s an aquarium! An aquarium! I couldn’t figure out where Ding Xue had drowned until now. We searched the entire house without finding any clues, until we discovered this.”

Lin Yan waved a small fish tank: “It must be the goldfish tank he bought for his daughter. Well-maintained too. These are delicate things – novices can kill them in a day, but he’s clearly experienced.”

“Furthermore, we found that the living room only had a sofa and dining table. Where there should have been a partition between the living room and entryway, there was an oddly placed bookshelf. When we moved it, we found a faint white scratch mark measuring 150×70×60, matching the dimensions of common marine aquariums on the market.”

At this point, she looked out the window where heavy rain poured down, lightning illuminating her cold profile.

Lin Yan’s voice lowered: “This is the primary crime scene. I confirm that the victim, Ding Xue, died from delayed drowning.”

Song Yuhang’s lips finally showed a relieved smile: “Good work. Leave the rest to me.”

Entering the interrogation room again, Song Yuhang came only to bid farewell – their next meeting would be in court or at the execution ground.

“You drowned her in the aquarium, didn’t you?” She stood at the door, coldly watching him.

Sun Xiangming suddenly clenched his jaw. The man who had been resting on the bench abruptly sat up to look at her, grinding his teeth in barely contained anger.

“No need to ask how I know. If you don’t want others to know, then don’t do it.” [若要人不知除非己莫為 | ruò yào rén bù zhī chú fēi jǐ mò wéi | a proverb meaning one’s misdeeds will eventually come to light]

After she finished speaking, Sun Xiangming looked at the officer’s calm and determined expression and smiled, both mocking and dismissive.

“So what if you know? You won’t find it. Without evidence, you can’t convict me. When dawn breaks, I’ll walk free.”

Song Yuhang watched him, her eyes now showing undisguised disgust: “Actually, I want to know what you were thinking when you gripped her neck and pushed her into the water. Was it relief or regret?”

If it had truly been about relief, Ding Xue would have died at home, not survived those extra hours.

They say the school’s phone call saved her, but little did they know, good and evil lie in a single thought [善惡本就在一念之間 | shàn’è běn jiù zài yī niàn zhī jiān | the line between right and wrong is paper-thin].

She finished speaking and strode away, ignoring Sun Xiangming as he lunged at the iron door, crying, shouting, and cursing until his voice was raw.

“Field team, move out! Using the Sun residence as the center point, search all garbage dumps, recycling stations, second-hand markets, trading centers, and fishing equipment shops within a ten-kilometer radius. Leave no stone unturned! Understood?!”

Rain slid down her temples, her uniform half-soaked, as the young detectives before her responded with sharp eyes and unified voices: “Yes!”

“Move out!”

Car doors locked, and the police vehicles left the station again, charging into the pouring rain.

“Lin-jie, Captain Song and the others are on their way. What about us?” Fang Xin asked, holding her phone.

Lin Yan removed her gloves and placed them in an evidence bag: “Do whatever needs doing. It’s up to you. My task is complete anyway.”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She waved goodbye with an unchanged expression: “Carry on, I’m going to the restroom.”

“The community garbage dump is here,” the property manager said, leading the group behind the building with a flashlight.

The rain fell hard and fast, with wastewater gathering in the low-lying areas forming small streams, and when mixed with the rainwater, the stench became even more unbearable.

Song Yuhang wore a raincoat. Being tall, even well-fitted pants were slightly short on her, exposing her ankles as she waded through the water, sweeping her flashlight in all directions.

“Has anyone disposed of anything large here in the past few days?”

An aquarium of that size could only be disposed of in a few ways: sold as scrap, resold secondhand, or smashed and discarded. Any of these methods would have drawn attention.

The property manager suddenly slapped his forehead: “Yes, yes! A few days ago, the resident from Unit 504 brought down a huge cardboard box, said it was construction waste. It was quite heavy – I even helped carry it.”

“Where is it now?” The garbage pile wasn’t large, easily surveyed at a glance.

“It’s long gone. Listen, Officer, why are you looking for garbage in the middle of the night?!” The property manager yawned repeatedly, clearly disgruntled about being pulled from his bed at this hour.

“Where was it taken?”

“The northern city landfill.”

Song Yuhang turned and left without another word. The property manager followed for a few steps: “Hey, hey, you probably won’t find anything now. According to municipal regulations, all garbage is processed the same day – either buried or incinerated.”

As they reached the building entrance, the forensics team was also coming down. Lin Yan shielded her eyes from the rain, looking up at the gray-black sky, her wristwatch emitting a faint fluorescent glow in the darkness.

Less than six hours until dawn. Time was running out.

Song Yuhang passed in front of her, bringing a gust of damp air.

Lin Yan raised her eyes slightly: “I think you should know, even if we find the aquarium, any remaining fingerprints might have been washed away by the heavy rain.”

Song Yuhang paused mid-step, turning to look at her.

Lin Yan gazed into those brown eyes: “And even taking ten thousand steps back [退一萬步講 | tuì yī wàn bù jiǎng | in the most optimistic scenario], if his fingerprints were fortunately preserved, what then? It won’t warrant a death sentence.”

As she spoke, a mocking smile played at her lips: “The cause of death was delayed drowning. Subjectively speaking, it wasn’t immediately fatal, and there’s also a three-year-old child involved. In cases I’ve examined, there was one where someone stabbed their victim over thirty times due to emotional entanglement. Was it cruel? Terrifying? Insane?”

“But because the murderer made the emergency call, and the victim died en route to the hospital, they only received a suspended death sentence. They’re still alive today.”

“Song Yuhang, give up. Sun Xiangming knows he won’t die. He’s fearless. Your pursuit is like searching for a needle in the sea.”

From her mocking smile, a trace of cold hatred could be discerned.

The four-pointed star on her shoulder gleamed in the rain, making her sharp features even more pronounced as they faced each other across the curtain of rain.

“So what? I admit our current laws may have imperfections, but does Forensic Doctor Lin intend to cross moral and legal boundaries to become a killing blade, returning evil for evil?”

Lin Yan’s lips curved in a cold smile as she spoke through gritted teeth: “Heaven and Earth are not benevolent, treating all creatures as straw dogs [天地不仁，以萬物為刍狗 | tiān dì bù rén, yǐ wàn wù wéi chú gǒu | Daoist philosophy expressing nature’s impartiality]. What’s wrong with me executing Heaven’s justice?”

Song Yuhang stepped forward, her tall frame blocking what little light remained from the dim streetlamp.

Lin Yan stood in her shadow, tilting her head up as rainwater ran down her sharp chin.

“I won’t give you that chance. If that day comes, even if it’s a drawn sword, I’ll break it and bury its edge in the sand [折戟沉沙 | zhé jǐ chén shā | to thoroughly defeat].”

Song Yuhang looked down at her, those light brown eyes still emotionless, but Lin Yan believed her capable of following through on her words.

The thought of becoming future adversaries made her smile, her blood boiling with the excitement of meeting a worthy opponent.

She raised her eyes, stepped forward lightly on tiptoe, and placed her delicate hand on Song’s shoulder. To onlookers, they appeared as two close friends sharing secrets.

Lin Yan embraced her shoulder, breathing orchid-sweet into her ear: “Is that so? I look forward to that day.”

Song Yuhang remained composed, slightly turning her head to press against Lin Yan’s ear. She couldn’t retreat – retreat would mean submission.

“Indeed. I won’t keep you waiting long.”

Lin Yan’s hand slid down from her shoulder, following the path of the raindrops. Like Song Yuhang, she was adept at reading people, and in certain aspects, her intuition was almost too keen.

Though Song hadn’t dodged or moved, even responding directly, her tense body had already betrayed her.

Lin Yan smiled slightly, leaning in as if for an intimate kiss, her ear barely grazing Song’s lips. The cold yet soft touch caused an involuntary shiver – a purely physical response unrelated to emotion.

“Captain Song—” someone called out.

Song Yuhang stepped back imperceptibly, raising her eyes again. True to her reputation of remaining unmoved even if Mount Tai collapsed [泰山崩于前也面不改色 | Tài Shān bēng yú qián yě miàn bù gǎi sè | to maintain composure in dire situations], she regained her composure in moments.

“But before that, I have other duties. How the law judges is the law’s business. Solving cases, collecting evidence, and finding truth is my responsibility. I can face both heaven and earth without shame. I do justice to this uniform and my conscience.”

She spoke with exceptional calmness, neither like making an oath nor from momentary passion.

She had long passed that age.

Her youthful passion had transformed into professional ethics that needed constant remembrance. The daily tedium of criminal investigation hadn’t worn away her enthusiasm but had become like an endless river – the calmer the surface, the stronger the undercurrent [暗流洶湧 | àn liú xiōng yǒng | powerful hidden forces].

Lin Yan’s whole body trembled as she bit her lower lip and looked sharply at her, but Song had already led her team to the vehicles.

With one command, everyone rushed to the northern city landfill.

The Jiangcheng City Criminal Investigation Division mobilized entirely, including those on break, on leave, and even auxiliary police.

Bureau Chief Feng stood by the window. The rain hadn’t stopped. His tea had gone cold, but he took a sip anyway before setting it down.

An officer knocked and entered, looking troubled: “Chief Feng, Sun Xiangming’s lawyer is here, demanding his release.”

“Tell them the time isn’t up yet. We can’t release him.” He set down his teacup and paced anxiously: “Get someone to contact Song Yuhang. It’s been so long without any news – what are they all doing?!”

The officer hesitated, words caught in his throat.

Chief Feng stopped and looked at him: “What else?”

“Reporters have arrived, and the Procuratorate sent people to inquire about the situation. Captain Zhang is receiving them. Would you like to…”

Before he could finish saying “take a look,” Feng Jianguo’s eyebrows shot up as he burst out: “D*mn reporters with their dog noses [狗鼻子 | gǒu bí zi | metaphor for keen sense for news], rushing in like a pack when they smell meat buns, afraid they’ll miss out on even a bite of hot sh*t!”

The officer wanted to laugh but held it in desperately, quickly assuming attention stance [稍息立正 | shào xī lì zhèng | military posture], eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Go tell them we’re not accepting interviews. There’s nothing to say about this case. Wait for official announcements.”

“Captain Song, here, wipe yourself,” Fang Xin, sitting in the car, saw she was soaked through and pulled out tissues to hand over.

“Thanks.” Song Yuhang sat in the front, turning back to take them and wipe the water from her forehead. Someone in the back spoke up again.

“Captain Song, are you alright? Your ears are red – you’re not running a fever, are you? After all, you haven’t rested properly for days…”

Better left unsaid – the mention made the places Lin Yan had touched burn even more intensely.

Though she wasn’t in the car, that faint floral fragrance lingered persistently around her, refusing to dissipate.

Song Yuhang lowered the window, letting the cool night wind mixed with rain drift in.

“It’s fine, just the humid heat from the typhoon.”

As Jiangcheng’s largest waste treatment center, tens of thousands of pieces of garbage were transported daily from the city center for burial here.

Years of accumulation had formed small mountains of waste, and the stench hit them before they even drove in.

Song Yuhang put on her mask and jumped out. Wastewater immediately covered her feet as everyone followed her, trudging through the uneven ground.

The guide leading them was nearly suffocated by the smell. He waved his hand to stop, catching his breath: “The garbage from the past few days was dumped over there.”

Following his pointed direction, they saw a dark mass piled into small hills.

Duan Cheng’s face turned ashen: “This… how can we search through this?”

Without looking back, Song Yuhang instructed her criminal investigators to don gloves and rubber boots for protection, then led the way into the garbage heap.

Action speaks louder than words.

With their leader taking the initiative, others pinched their noses and followed.

Often, there are no shortcuts in solving cases, only day-after-day of steady dedication and effort.

This is the true shortcut to stopping evil.

Song Yuhang had lost count of how many times she’d searched through garbage or dug through waste pits. Sweat beaded on her temples, but before she could feel any warmth, the cold rain extinguished it.

Water dripped from her chin – she couldn’t tell if it was rain or sweat. In the dim light and heavy rain, figures became indistinct beyond three to five meters.

Rain got in her eyes, blurring her vision. She removed her hood, wiped her face with a clean shoulder, and checked her wristwatch.

Three-thirty in the morning.

Burning with anxiety perfectly described her current state.

“Ouch!” Someone had pricked their hand on either metal debris or a hook. The investigator immediately removed their glove, crying out in pain.

A colleague searching nearby with a flashlight grumbled: “We’ve been stabbed countless times digging through this trash. Born with a cheap life [天生賤命 | tiān shēng jiàn mìng | born unlucky], while some people don’t even show up – haven’t gotten a single drop of rain on them, let alone touched garbage.”

Song Yuhang turned back, her lips pressed into a straight line.

She stepped aside, removed her gloves, and pulled out her phone from inside her raincoat. She wiped off the water drops only to have them immediately replaced by rain, trying several times before turning it on.

She dialed an unlisted number, and the call connected quickly.

“Hello? I need you to watch someone.”

Thunder crashed and lightning flashed as fierce winds stirred up currents that echoed across the wasteland with an eerie howl.

Her voice was low and hoarse, inexplicably unsettling to hear.

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LP: Re-translated on March 16, 2025

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