Miss Forensics – Chapter 83

Volume One: First Scroll

Clues

“Song Yuhang, this is what you owe me.”

Tai’an Psychiatric Hospital.

“Is she asleep?” Lin Yan peered through the gap above the iron door. She saw Auntie Chen lying on her side on the bed, an IV drip stand beside it, the bottle half empty.

The hospital director stood beside her, respectfully saying, “She took her medicine and went to sleep, Miss.”

“She’s willing to take her medicine now?”

The doctor gave a wry smile. “We had to crush the medicine and mix it into her food. Otherwise, she refuses to eat it.”

A shadow of worry crossed Lin Yan’s brow. “Is there any chance of her recovering?”

The director, in his early forties, had been the head of psychiatry at a major public Grade A Class 3 hospital in the country before she hired him. He shook his head. “Basically, it’s very slim. At her age, we can only hope to slow the progression of her illness and reduce relapses.”

Lin Yan herself was practically half a doctor. Seven years ago, when she had asked someone to find Auntie Chen in the country, the woman had been even crazier than now, huddled under a bridge culvert. You couldn’t even tell if she was male or female, let alone recognize her human form.

For the past seven years, Lin Yan had exhausted every medical method available—conventional, unconventional, physical, psychological, various cutting-edge drugs, and advanced technology. Yet, Auntie Chen had only recovered to a state of being lucid at times and muddled at others, far from meeting the criteria for a psychiatric patient’s discharge. And as she aged, various complications followed: high blood pressure, heart disease, anemia, stomach ulcers, and so on.

She had suffered too much in her youth trying to find Chunan, and her body had gradually deteriorated in her old age. Only aging was something humans could never stop.

Lin Yan’s heart trembled looking at her graying hair. “Open the door. I’ll go in and see her.”

The director hesitated. “Miss, it’s too dangerous—”

She was, after all, a psychiatric patient.

“Open the door.” Her tone left no room for argument.

The director’s scalp tingled. He had no choice but to take out the keys and open the door for her.

Lin Yan walked in, then, as if suddenly remembering something, took a test tube from her satchel and handed it to him.

“Find someone to run a test. Do it in our own lab. I want to see the report within three days at the latest.”

The director accepted it with both hands. “Yes, Miss.”

After the director left, he left the keys with her.

There wasn’t even a chair in the psychiatric patient’s room. Lin Yan squatted down by the bed, studying the woman’s face, crisscrossed with deep wrinkles, and gently tucked the white hair stuck to her cheek behind her ear.

Perhaps due to the medication, Mother Chen was sleeping soundly. As Lin Yan watched her, she couldn’t help but recall her first visit to the Chen family home more than a decade ago.

Two people sharing a tattered umbrella, running along a muddy path.

Malicious neighborhood children pointed and whispered behind them.

“Yo, isn’t that the murderer’s kid? Still has the nerve to come back.”

“Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes, and a rat’s son will dig holes¹. Don’t be fooled by her good grades, she’s probably bad on the inside² too. You’re not allowed to play with her!”

“Exactly, exactly! Let’s go, let’s go, stop looking! Let’s go home and eat. If she hears you, she might turn around and stab you, and then you’ll have nowhere to cry.”

Lin Yan wanted to run out into the rain.

Chen Chunan grabbed her sleeve. “Lin Yan, what are you doing?!”

“You’re just going to let them talk about you like that?” Young Lin Yan possessed the righteous courage of a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger. She hadn’t known Chen Chunan well before, but now, with Chunan’s clothes tied around her waist, she naturally couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

She had always been one to clearly distinguish kindness from malice; she repaid kindness with kindness.

Chen Chunan shook her head, closed the umbrella, and pushed open the dilapidated wooden door of her home.

“I’m used to it.”

There was no sadness, grievance, or sorrow on her face, as if she were merely commenting on the fine weather. When she turned to call her mother, her tone became light and lively.

She truly hadn’t taken those words to heart.

“Mom, I’m back.”

Mother Chen was stir-frying vegetables. The coal stove was placed by the window, right on the floor. She was bent over, strenuously wielding the spatula. Hearing the voice, she turned around, startled.

“You’re back! This is—”

Ever since her husband had been imprisoned, no one had ever set foot in their small home.

Chen Chunan excitedly pulled Lin Yan’s arm, pushing her into the middle of the room. “Mom, this is Lin Yan. She’s my classmate.”

Mother Chen, slightly reserved, wiped her hands on her apron and greeted her, “Sit, sit, Classmate Lin, please sit. I’m just cooking. Stay and eat something later.”

Lin Yan stood still, not saying anything. Firstly, she was very unaccustomed to such enthusiasm. Secondly…

Mother Chen noticed her somewhat awkward posture, her pale face, and Chen Chunan’s school uniform jacket tied around her waist. She understood.

“Not feeling well? It’s like this for girls when they get their period for the first time. Auntie will make you some fermented rice wine eggs³ later. You’ll feel better after drinking it.”

That was the first time twelve-year-old Lin Yan had heard the somewhat unfamiliar word “menstruation.” A flush rose on her face, as if it were something heinous and unforgivable. She curled her toes, flustered and uneasy.

She almost wanted to bolt out the door immediately.

But Chen Chunan seemed very experienced, pulling her towards the bed enclosed by a curtain.

“Mom, I’ll take her to change her clothes first.”

Mother Chen, while stir-frying, replied, “The new pair of pants I bought you last time, take them out for your classmate to wear. I think you two are about the same height, she should be able to wear them.”

Chen Chunan’s school uniforms were washed and rewashed, worn and reworn. Not only were the sleeves and pant legs too short, but they were also patched. Lin Yan, however, was a pretty little girl. Although her new clothes were often dirtied from her fights, the sandals on her feet were the latest style seen on TV, something Mother Chen probably couldn’t afford even with a year’s salary.

Chen Chunan rummaged through the bottom of her “wardrobe”—which was just a few plastic boxes stacked together—and found the pants.

The packaging bag was still unopened. She touched it lovingly, then gently tore open the plastic bag. The smell of cheap denim wafted out.

Chen Chunan was a little reluctant, but she still carefully handed the pants to her. “Here, you can wear these.”

When she came out from behind the curtain, blushing, food was already laid out on a “table” made of several chairs pushed together. The house was bare; apart from the bed, there was no decent place to sit. Patches of peeling wall were covered with newspaper, while the other side was plastered with Chen Chunan’s award certificates.

Chen Chunan sat cross-legged on the damp, cold floor. Lin Yan slowly walked over.

“I’ll give you a new pair tomorrow.”

“No, no, it’s fine as long as they’re washed clean.” Mother Chen placed the fermented rice wine eggs on the table and pulled over a cushion for her to sit on.

“Sit, sit. Our home is humble, please don’t mind.”

The food on the table was also very simple: white porridge with a few floating vegetable leaves, watery and with few grains of rice; dark, salty pickles; and steamed buns that had been sitting for who knows how long, with mold spots on their white skin. The only thing that looked somewhat appetizing was the steamed sweet potato.

Chen Chunan looked at her bowl of fermented rice wine eggs and swallowed. “I only get to drink this when I have my period each month.”

Lin Yan then knew that this was an exceptionally precious food for the Chen family, for Chen Chunan.

Young Lin Yan didn’t sit. She stuffed the changed clothes into her schoolbag, turned, and left. “I’m going home.”

“Eh—” Chunan put down her chopsticks and chased after her, stuffing a thin, white object into her hand.

“Isn’t your home far? Remember to change on the way. Don’t eat cold things these few days, my mom said so. She knows everything.”

Lin Yan clutched the sanitary pad as if it were a hot potato. She wanted to throw it away but held onto it tightly. Pushing Chunan away, she ran into the rain without looking back.

That sanitary pad was the lowest quality item Lin Yan had used in the first half of her life. It was soft but not absorbent, not pure cotton, and even a bit stuffy, not very comfortable. But she always remembered those pants, and the warmth of Chunan’s hand as she pressed the sanitary pad into hers.

This memory had stayed with her for nineteen years.

Mother Chen had also transformed from a kind auntie who “knew everything” into this muddled, barely human figure.

Fate really plays tricks on people.

Lin Yan curled her lip into a smile, tilted her head back to force back her tears. Seeing the IV bottle above was empty, she picked up another one from the tray by the bed, examined it carefully in the faint moonlight, and then hung it up for her.

Turning back, she pressed down the loose edges of the medical tape on the back of Auntie Chen’s hand, tucked her arm back into the quilt, and adjusted the corner of the blanket before quietly leaving.

By the time she returned to the entrance of the villa, someone was already waiting for her.

The last time Song Yuhang had waited for her like this, it had been a night of torrential rain.

Now, it was a landscape of goose-feather snow.

She had the fingerprint access but didn’t go in, instead squatting by the patch of droopy⁴ sunflower seedlings, smoking. The streetlight cast a dim yellow halo around her, and a pile of cigarette butts lay at her feet.

Snowflakes had piled up on her black hair; who knew how long she had been waiting. From a distance, she almost looked like a snowman.

Song Yuhang had seen the car’s headlights long ago. She threw away her cigarette and went up to meet her, opening the car door and even taking the umbrella from the driver’s hand to hold it for her.

When she spoke, the snow on her eyebrows and at the corners of her eyes melted, making her look as if she had been crying. Her nose was red from the cold.

“You’re back.”

She didn’t ask where Lin Yan had been.

The driver was taking the things they had bought together at the mall out of the trunk. There wasn’t enough space, so some were also placed on the back seat.

Lin Yan bent down to get them, but Song Yuhang helped her up and thrust the umbrella into her hand.

“You hold this. I’ll get it, I’ll get it.”

She and the driver carried the things into the hall, one after the other. When Song Yuhang went back to lock the car and tried to follow, she found the glass door of the hall locked from the inside.

She could still get in through the outer fingerprint lock, but this inner door was locked from the inside out, and it was bulletproof glass. She really couldn’t get in.

Song Yuhang banged on the door, her warm breath turning into white mist on the glass. “Lin Yan, let me in. Let me explain, okay…”

Lin Yan came out of the cloakroom, changed into a loose nightgown, barefoot on the floor. She held a fashion magazine in one hand, poured herself a glass of red wine from the wine cabinet, and walked to the window with the glass, pulling the curtains shut with a swift motion.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Song Yuhang sighed, leaned against the glass door, and fumbled for another cigarette from her pocket, lighting it.

When Lin Yan finished her wine and was about to take a bath, she peeked through a gap in the curtains. That person was squatting in the courtyard, scraping at the snow on the ground, using a branch to write her name.

Lin Yan’s mouth twitched. How very non-mainstream of her. She rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom.

When she came out after her bath, wearing a face mask, and poured another glass of red wine to head upstairs, Song Yuhang was exercising in the courtyard—high knees, running in place, and one-handed push-ups.

Well, she certainly had a lot of energy. Looked like she wouldn’t freeze to death overnight.

Lin Yan carried the wine glass upstairs, went straight to the attic, and locked herself in the darkroom.

This was her secret base in the Qingshan Villa. It was usually locked, not with any high-tech means, but with a Super C-class⁵ padlock—the best anti-theft method.

The darkroom was filled with photos of all sizes, most of them related to Chen Chunan. Lin Yan switched on the desk lamp and walked to the clue wall with her red wine.

Traces of her previous markings with a paint pen were still visible.

In the very center, a yellowed photograph was pinned with a thumbtack—it was Chunan.

The rest were scattered clues, not enough to form a mind map, but over so many years, it was a small harvest.

She looked at Li Bin’s black and white photo, walked over, and tore it down.

This lead was a dead end.

So, who else could have had access to Chunan’s body back then?

The person who reported the crime?

The eyewitness?

The criminal police officer in charge of the case?

The assistant forensic pathologist?

The intern forensic pathologist?

The trace evidence examiner?

…

After all, it was a major case; so many people had handled it.

Lin Yan gradually tightened her grip on the slender stem of the wine glass, so hard that her knuckles turned white.

She hated, hated that she had been powerless back then, ignorant and incompetent. If it were now, she could analyze even a bone fragment and get to the bottom of it.

Song Yuhang had truly been waiting outside for a long time. She had fallen asleep leaning against the glass door, only to be jolted awake by the cold. She sneezed, her snot nearly freezing into ice.

She rubbed her hands together, stood up, and surveyed the entire villa. When her gaze fell on the chimney on the roof, an idea struck her.

Damn it, chasing a girlfriend is so hard. I even had to resort to my old special ops secret infiltration skills.

Song Yuhang’s fingers gripped the edge of the chimney. Seeing a faint light below, she closed her eyes and jumped.

The moment she sensed movement behind her, the wine glass fell to the floor. Lin Yan, grabbing a knife, lunged.

The paper-thin cutter in her hand was like lightning, instantly closing in.

Song Yuhang was dizzy from the fall. All she saw was a cold glint heading straight for her neck. She subconsciously raised her hand to disarm her, but Lin Yan didn’t let her. Recognizing who it was, Lin Yan’s attack became even fiercer. She kneed Song Yuhang in the abdomen, sending her sprawling sideways.

Song Yuhang’s head hit the ground. She grabbed Lin Yan’s wrist. “Lin Yan, it’s me…”

“It’s you I’m hitting! Shouldn’t trespassers be beaten?”

Lin Yan was slightly out of breath, the two of them deadlocked.

“But… I missed you,” Song Yuhang said, deflecting the hand holding the knife to one side.

Under Song Yuhang’s pressure, Lin Yan slowly moved it back, the tip of the knife aimed straight at her eye.

“I told you, I don’t need your comfort. Did you come here to die?”

She was practically sitting on her in a triangle choke position. They were wrestling, Song Yuhang in an awkward position to exert force, and also unwilling to hurt her.

She watched as the tip of the knife descended onto her eyelid.

She let go. “Go ahead.”

With that, she closed her eyes slightly, resigned to her fate.

Lin Yan’s hand, gripping the knife handle, began to tremble. She gritted her teeth, looking at the face before her, her eyes slightly reddening.

A gust of wind swept past. Song Yuhang nervously swallowed, but there was no anticipated pain.

Song Yuhang opened her eyes. Lin Yan had sliced off a lock of hair from her temple, threw the knife down, and got up. “Song Yuhang, this is what you owe me.”

Song Yuhang’s heart ached. She scrambled up to chase after her, wanting to grab her sleeve, to pull her into an embrace and cherish her tenderly.

“I know. I’ll spend my whole life repaying you.”

Lin Yan slapped her hand away. Although she had spared her, her anger hadn’t dissipated so easily.

“Take your corny pick-up lines and get lost.”

Song Yuhang was shoved against the table. Looking at the wall in front of her, she was suddenly stunned. “This is…”

A collection of clues regarding the “Fenyang Pier Dismemberment Case.”

She had spent fourteen years piecing this wall together.

Song Yuhang looked at Lin Yan. The woman picked up a cigarette from the table, lit it, took a drag, and leaned on the table, studying a map with a furrowed brow.

She suddenly understood why Lin Yan had been so agitated just now.

Song Yuhang sighed quietly in her heart. She walked over to her side, still not daring to stand too close, maintaining a palm’s width distance as she also examined the yellowed map.

Jiangcheng City fourteen years ago.

Circled in black pen was Jiangcheng City No. 1 High School.

Drawn in red pen was Chen Chunan’s known route of departure.

It stopped abruptly not far along.

When she reappeared in public view, it was three days later, as a pile of minced flesh, fished out of a garbage can.

The body disposal site was heavily circled in red pen by Lin Yan, scribbled over messily.

Song Yuhang walked around the table once, then went to the wall to examine the photos. When she returned to Lin Yan’s side, she snatched the cigarette from Lin Yan’s mouth and put it in her own.

Lin Yan raised her hand to slap her, but she quickly dodged.

Song Yuhang smiled somewhat sycophantically.⁶ “Smoking too much is bad for you. I’ll help you finish it, no waste.”

Lin Yan looked at her with a playful smile. “Do you know that the cleaner who accidentally stumbled in here last time is already dead? I can achieve the same dismemberment effect as on that diagram, even cleaner, without a single bone fragment left.”

As she said this, her hair was loose, her eyes and brows shadowed in the dim light. Her lips, still red from the wine she had just drunk. Perhaps the voltage in the attic was unstable; the desk lamp flickered, casting her shadow behind her like a phantom.

For a moment, Song Yuhang felt a chill run down her spine, goosebumps rising. But a moment later, she shook her head firmly. “It’s not that you can’t kill, it’s that you won’t.”

Otherwise, Lin Yan hated her so much, a mixture of love and hate; that knife just now would have plunged into her neck long ago, let alone a cleaner with whom she had no grudge.

Hearing this, Lin Yan glanced at her, pressed her lips together, and then looked away.

Song Yuhang walked to her side and placed the desk lamp on the map.

“I’ve done quite a bit of research on this case. Do you want to hear my thoughts?”

---

“This is…” The man sitting opposite him had a hint of shock in his expression.

“That’s right. The composition is almost identical to what the Jiangcheng City Bureau sent over last time.”

The test tube Lin Yan had recently given to her confidant lay quietly on the table.

“It’s just that the dosage in the blood is much smaller this time. Lin Yan has gotten smarter; she knows to find someone to do it herself now.”

The man sitting opposite him chuckled, his expression unreadable, his fingertips tapping his knee. “Has this thing reappeared in the world?”

“Appearing one after another in Jiangcheng City… it’s not a good omen.” The man conversing with him sighed deeply and rose to walk to the window.

“Too many people have already sacrificed their lives for this thing.”

“But wasn’t the formula destroyed?” The seated man looked at the test tube and said faintly.

“But what if the owner of the formula is still alive?” The man standing by the window turned back, his voice somewhat hoarse and heavy.

“No—impossible!” The man’s tone suddenly sharpened, his teeth gritted. “He—he died long ago! He can’t possibly be alive! Unless… unless…”

He gasped heavily. “Is he a demon who crawled back from hell to seek revenge?”

The man looked out at the flashing neon lights and bustling traffic, somewhat lost in thought. They were no longer young; their once tall figures were now slightly stooped.

However, when he said those words, it still made the other person faintly recall those eventful and glorious years.

“Whether he’s human or ghost, no matter how many times he tries to stage a comeback⁷, if he died twenty years ago, we’ll send him back to hell if he dares to show up again. The human world has no place for such vermin.”

---

Because there was no whiteboard, Song Yuhang drew and wrote on paper with a pen: “Psychologically, a psychopathic killer is also called a ‘lust murderer.’ Over 95% of offenders are male, with only a very small portion being physically strong females.”

Lin Yan nodded, leaning against the table, gesturing for her to continue.

She knew why this was the case. Dissection and dismemberment were physically demanding tasks, requiring either skill or strength, neither of which could be lacking.

Otherwise, did you think killing a person was like killing a chicken? If you didn’t use some strength, you couldn’t even catch a chicken.

“Secondly, the targets chosen by criminals are often random. You might be targeted today because you wore a pretty dress, or because you carried a nice bag. Or perhaps the criminal likes overweight people, and you escaped because you’re particularly thin. I won’t elaborate on this point. As long as you fit the criminal’s criteria, he will kill you.”

“Thirdly, in such indiscriminate attacks, the perpetrator generally won’t choose someone with whom they have a social relationship. Because only unfamiliar people, in the eyes of the criminal, will have only biological attributes and no social attributes. In other words, you are just his prey, just a piece of meat on his chopping block. Killing you is satisfying, stimulating. He enjoys the feeling of having everything under his control.”

“Fourthly, a person is a complex energy system. The id instinct existing in the subconscious is the basic driving force of human psychology, also known as ‘libido.’ Therefore, psychological development is also the development of libido. So, the reason psychopathic killers are ‘psychopathic’ is mainly reflected in sexual perversion. He cannot obtain pleasure from normal interactions; he can only satisfy his desires by killing.”

“It’s like when we handle rape cases.⁸ Most criminals actually can’t get an erection. They achieve psychological satisfaction by controlling, humiliating, and molesting women. It’s the same principle.”

Speaking up to this point, she paused, looked up at Lin Yan, “However, a typical serial killer will definitely strike again after their first crime. I think you understand this point as well.”

Lin Yan nodded, taking a deep breath to control her emotions. “So, all these years, while performing autopsies, I’ve been looking for similar cases, just hoping to…”

Find a commonality, and thus find a breakthrough.

But since her sophomore year, when she started interning with her professor, she had dissected over six thousand bodies. She spent more time in the autopsy room than eating and sleeping combined, yet she still found nothing, not a single similar case.

Bai Ling was an exception, but that lead had also gone cold.

Song Yuhang remembered her cabinet full of glass jars filled with paper cranes. Her heart ached fiercely. She walked over, put her arm around Lin Yan’s shoulder, and rested her head against hers, offering silent comfort.

Lin Yan nudged her with her elbow but couldn’t push her away. Song Yuhang clung to her, not letting go, and continued, “So, let’s put aside the speculation that the killer is a serial psychopathic murderer for now, and return to the investigation of a general criminal case. Let’s simplify things.”

One arm around Lin Yan’s shoulder, the other hand making a stroke on the paper, she really did look like she had a good grasp of the case.

Lin Yan couldn’t help but glance at her a few more times. Noticing Lin Yan looking at her, a slight smile touched Song Yuhang’s lips.

“A typical murder case is usually one or more of the following: for money, for revenge, or a crime of passion. Lin Yan, help me sort out Chunan’s social relationships.”

Lin Yan shook her head. “Her social circle was very simple. Me, her best friend; Auntie Chen, her mother. People at school kept a respectful distance from her. What other social relationships could she have?”

“Think again.” Song Yuhang pondered. “It doesn’t have to be people she was on good terms with. People she was on bad terms with also count.”

Lin Yan thought for a moment, took the pen and paper, and wrote down a few names. “These are a few people who used to bully us. I investigated them myself later, and your police department probably did too, but still found nothing.”

A flash of inspiration crossed Song Yuhang’s mind. “I remember the prime suspect at the time was a butcher. Chen Chunan’s father had a conflict with this man at the wet market over twenty cents and accidentally injured his wife, who later died. He had a motive, lived near the body disposal site, had the means, and the tools. Chen Chunan’s blood was also found in his car. He fit my profile of the killer’s appearance and personality quite well. But I later heard he died in the detention center. Otherwise, we definitely could have dug up more. Even if he didn’t kill her, he must have been connected to it.”

This was what made the case even more a source of lingering regret⁹ for her. They had clearly identified a suspect, yet he had died so ambiguously. Who could swallow that!

Lin Yan’s hands, resting on the table, trembled slightly. She swallowed, trying to regulate her breathing.

Song Yuhang’s hand gently patted her back. “Do you have a computer here?”

Lin Yan came back to her senses, a shimmer of moisture in her eyes, breathtakingly beautiful.

“Yes, I’ll get it for you.”

She dug out a laptop from under a pile of newspapers and books, opened it, and handed it to her.

Song Yuhang took out her internal network SIM card. Lin Yan watched her busy herself, then averted her gaze. “You… why are you being so diligent?”

Song Yuhang didn’t turn around. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”

Before Lin Yan could answer, she continued on her own, “The lie is the old spiel about me, as a people’s police officer, having to solve every case. I guess you’re tired of hearing that.”

“And the truth is—” She took a moment to look back at Lin Yan, her smile gentle, her gaze fervent and sincere.

“Didn’t you say you’d agree to marry me once all this is over?”

“I want to marry you sooner.”

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Re-translate on June 10, 2025

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