Miss Forensics – Chapter 91.2


Not long after setting off, the motorcycle veered onto a secluded path that wove through the mountains and woods.

The man in black looked back at the dense, lush forest and thought to himself: Safe at last.

Before he could let out a sigh of relief, the driver hit the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a stop in a pile of fallen leaves.

He shoved the person in front: “What are you stopping for, keep going!”

The driver turned around, the face beneath the helmet expressionless.

The man in black felt a shock in his heart.

The loud report of a gunshot scattered the sparrows resting in the woods.

Speckles of blood were scattered on the fallen leaves.

A bright hole gaped in the forehead of the man in black.

The driver yanked the backpack away from his arms.

At the mountaintop.

A sports car with a bottle of red wine resting on the hood.

The man slowly sipped from his wineglass, thoroughly enjoying the winter sunlight.

“Young master, I’ve got the item.”

Speaking thus, the driver plugged the USB drive into the computer and an audio file popped up, which he clicked to play with a touch of excitement.

“Little boy, little child, with his backpack on, heads off to school. He isn’t afraid of the sun’s scorch, nor does he fear the storm’s fury…”

The driver’s face turned pale in an instant. He rummaged through the backpack he had retrieved, pulling out a piece of paper that was blank. He flipped it over to see the back.

In huge letters: “Ha ha, are you a pig?”

He fell to his knees with a thud: “Young master, I’m sorry, young master…”

And the song continued: “I only fear the teacher calling me lazy, shamed before my parents—”

The man gradually tightened his grip on the wineglass, his expression growing dark. In a burst of anger, he swept the computer onto the ground, shattering it.

(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)

“Dammit, fooled again.”

“Young master, please give me another chance, young master—” the driver wailed as he was quickly hoisted up by several attendants.

A metal case was opened, and a staff member dressed in a suit and gloves took out a syringe, drawing a large amount of blue liquid from a vial, and began to step towards him.

An old man, leaning on a cane, passed beside the driver, who was in the throes of convulsions, twitching all over and foaming at the mouth.

“See, I told you, she’s not that easy to deal with, very sly indeed.”

The man finished his drink in one gulp and threw the glass heavily onto the car hood.

“You still have some sentimental feelings for her, cutting off your own escape route. Our goods will soon be on the market, and when that happens, we’ll have an endless stream of wealth, more than you can use or exhaust. With that, why worry about finding a good woman?”

The old man stood beside him, basking in the sunset, looking out as the sea level rose and fell, patting him on the shoulder.

That face, as if chiseled by an axe, bore a slight resemblance to him.

“When you’re as old as I am, you’ll understand that in this world, all that talk about brotherly love, and all the sentiments of love and emotion, are like dirt in front of so-called money.”

Smelling the strong smell of disinfectant in the hospital, Lin Yan felt a physiological discomfort and clutched at the corner of her garment.

“I don’t want to be hospitalized; I want to go home.”

Song Yuhang pressed her down, “That won’t do, stay for a few days before going home—it’s about time you had a health check anyway. You lie down for a bit; I’ll go and pay the bills.”

Sensing that she was about to leave, Lin Yan quickly slid off the bed and pounced on her, clinging onto her neck and wrapping herself firmly around her waist.

Afraid that Lin Yan might fall, Song Yuhang could only support her as well.

Lin Yan clung to her, burying her head in the nape of her neck: “I don’t want to be hospitalized; I want to go home.”

Her tone softened this time, with a hint of coquettishness.

Song Yuhang kept a stern face: “No way—”

Lin Yan then began to throw a tantrum and act up, which was her specialty.

“I don’t want to. If you make me stay in the hospital, I’ll just hold on to you like this and never let go. If you have the ability, carry me while you pay the bills, carry me to work, and let the whole department know we are a couple, and that you, Captain Song, are henpecked.”1

Frustrated, Song Yuhang pinched the back of her neck: “You really think you’re lawless, huh?”

(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)

Burying her head, Lin Yan rubbed against her neck like a small animal seeking warmth, and softened her voice to plead.

“I don’t want to sleep in the hospital; it’s uncomfortable, and I can’t sleep. I want to go home, Song Yuhang, is that okay?”

Her head was burrowed into her own neck, warm and cozy, and her hair tickled her face as it brushed against it.

Both her tone and her actions were full of utter dependence and longing.

How could one have the heart to refuse a Lin Yan like this?

In the depths of her heart, Song Yuhang let out a quiet sigh. On the surface, she appeared to be a strong, independent woman, but in reality, she was just a child who desperately lacked warmth and longed for a sense of security.

She nuzzled her nose, coaxing Lin Yan to lift her head: “Alright, but only after the doctor has seen you, prescribed medicine, and said you can go home to rest, then we’ll go home.”

Lin Yan smiled sweetly and pecked at her lips: “Okay.”

Song Yuhang pushed her upwards slightly, freeing one hand to open the door to the hospital room.

Lin Yan was shocked and horrified: “What are you doing?!”

Song Yuhang just openly carried her like a child and started walking out.

“Wasn’t it you who said I should just carry you to go make the payment?”

Lin Yan roared: “Ah ah ah ah put me down, you bastard!!!”

When passers-by cast strange glances her way, she immediately went quiet, her face flushing as she buried it into her neck crevice, resembling a shy quail.

Song Yuhang couldn’t help but chuckle, patted her on the head, knocked on the doctor’s office door, and plonked her down on a chair.

By the time they got home, neither of them had eaten much all day, and their stomachs were growling with hunger.

Song Yuhang put her down to cook, while Lin Yan washed her hands and slowly shuffled over to her side.

Seeing that her face still looked somewhat displeased, it seemed she was probably still unhappy about Lin Yan’s insistence on going home.

Lin Yan picked up a piece of green vegetable: “I’ll help you pick the vegetables.”

Song Yuhang: “…That’s the choy sum I’ve already picked out.”

“How about this? I can help you peel it!”

Lin Yan picked up the washed cucumber with great vigor, ready to start peeling.

(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)

The corners of Song Yuhang’s mouth twitched, and she quickly took it from her: “…That’s meant to be used in a cold salad, what peeling!”

With her cucumber turned into a work of art that would amaze gods and ghosts alike, there would be no eating it tonight.

Lin Yan drew out a long “Oh,” evidently disappointed.

Song Yuhang took a moment to glance at her, the bandage wrapped around her neck still quite startling.

She looked away: “If you want to help, don’t make a mess, go and run a bath.”

Lin Yan ran off with a clatter, then came back.

“What next?”

Song Yuhang wasn’t really angry with her, just concerned about her health, and fed her a slice of the freshly cut cucumber.

“Stay, taste, be my guinea pig.”

“I like this job.”

Lin Yan rubbed her hands together excitedly, circling around her.

Song Yuhang cooked, chatting with her off and on, occasionally feeding her some food.

As night fell, the lights of the spacious villa shone brightly, and laughter dispelled the chill of the deep winter.

After all the food was ready, Song Yuhang turned off the stove, washed her hands clean, and then turned around to embrace her.

“Do you think we’re missing something?”

Lin Yan had just finished a cola-flavored chicken wing, licking her fingers, she looked up at her: “Missing what?”

Song Yuhang looked at her face, her clear pupils reflecting her own image.

She lowered her head and laughed, nose to nose with her.

“We’re missing a pet that runs around our feet, or maybe—”

She paused slightly: “A child.”

As her burning gaze fell upon her, Lin Yan blushed, bursting into a fit of coughs: “Cough cough cough—”

A child or such, wasn’t it too early for that?

(If you're not reading on littlepandatranslations.com, it means this has been stolen)

Song Yuhang patted her back for her, saying gently: “No rush, I can give birth too.”

Lin Yan smeared her oily hands on her face, squeezing and molding it, and then turned on her heel and walked away.

“Keep dreaming, I’m determined to be DINK (dual income, no kids).”

Song Yuhang’s face fell, and she hurried after her: “You can’t be serious, Lin Yan, Yanyan, listen to me…”

After dinner, Lin Yan went to take a bath. Soaking in the tub, she had to keep her injured neck that couldn’t be exposed to water outside, looking like a swan with its head drooping over the edge of the bathtub.

Song Yuhang couldn’t help but laugh, fetching the shower gel, shampoo, and other items that were placed high up, and putting them within her reach.

“Alright, Miss Lin, just lie down, I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Lin Yan turned over, exposing the softest of her fur like a wild animal.

Song Yuhang squatted down, used the hand-held shower to wet her hair, and had just lathered her hands full of bubbles when the phone rang. She fumbled with both hands to fish it out.


Since her hands were occupied, she had no choice but to press the speakerphone button and place it on the stool.

Mother Song’s aged voice came through the earpiece: “Yuhang, next week is New Year’s Eve, bring Yanyan back home for dinner.”

Lin Yan was startled, quickly flipping over, scrambling to the edge of the tub, looking at her in disbelief.

A hint of a smile began to play at the corners of Song Yuhang’s mouth: “Okay, Mom, I’ll talk to her.”

She turned her head to look at her lover, warmth rippling in her light brown eyes.

“Yanyan… she will go.”

After the call ended,

Mother Song took off her reading glasses and let out a deep sigh. On the table were clippings from recent newspapers, all about homosexuality.

Incapable of surfing the net and seldom watching TV, she resorted to the most old-fashioned method to gradually comprehend her daughter, trying to understand the love between her and her partner.

The elderly woman rubbed her eyes, her eye sockets slightly red, as she unsteadily rose and walked toward the kitchen.

Since they were coming home for the New Year’s Eve dinner, preparations had to start from now.

Groceries needed to be bought in advance and stored, meat that required marinating had to be done early; by the time of cooking, it would be ready to eat.

After all, this was Lin Yan’s first visit to their home as Song Yuhang’s girlfriend. It deserved to be treated with special importance.

LP: Mother Song so sweet!

  1. continually criticized and given orders by one’s wife or female partner
5 1 vote
Article Rating
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Little Panda
Resize Text

You cannot copy content of this page

Popup Example