Profiling Results (2)

“Male, 16 to 25 years old, slender build, height not exceeding 175cm. Resident of the Southern District of Wengcheng, low education level, introverted, taciturn, with social communication barriers. Likely has a history of burns and may still carry burn scars on his body.”

The white porcelain ceiling had aged into a jaundiced, waxy yellow over the years. The ancient air conditioner hummed, breathing out moldy air that layered a frost-like chill over the floor. Walking on it felt like treading on thin ice.

Chen Doudou froze for a long while, dully repeating Liu Huisheng’s final words: “Burn… burn scars?”

The others snapped out of their trance one by one. “What does that mean?”

“16 to 25 years old?”

“How did you even calculate the height?”

Even Brother Zhong chimed in: “Look, Xiao Liu, our clues are limited right now. Proactive reasoning is good, but let’s not set too many restrictions on the suspect. If we’re wrong, it could mislead the entire investigation.”

The air grew thin. The frozen oxygen seemed to turn into a jagged mesh, pressing against windpipes like a plague, forcing out dark, heavy blood.

Liu Huisheng sat at the far corner of the long table, like a piece of cold iron seeking life in a sea of white mist—resilient, yet thin, liable to be swallowed by the vast fog at any moment.

Footsteps sounded at the door. Someone strode in and tossed a manila folder onto the table. It landed with a heavy thud, like a waterlogged bag hitting the pavement in the rain.

“The Municipal Bureau sent down some data. All three fires occurred at full-care kindergartens, all started in the middle of the night, and all points of origin were the dormitories. The similarity is high—it’s likely the same person.”

The implication was clear: Liu Huisheng’s theory of a serial arsonist now had evidentiary backing.

Vice-Captain Qin Song immediately voiced his opinion:

“That makes Jiang Wenbin even more suspicious. He’s a Director; he’s familiar with multiple kindergartens. Plus, he personally admitted to child abuse.”

Liu Huisheng remained firm: “Jiang Wenbin is not the killer.”

Qin Song challenged her, “What you said—age, occupation, education—that’s all just your guess.”

“It’s not a guess.” She looked up, her gaze steady. “It’s a profile.”

“You—!”

Zhao Yu raised a hand, signaling Qin Song to stop. She scanned the room: Chen Doudou was nervously wringing her hands; Zhong was looking at Qin Song with worry; Xiao Fei had initially noted down Liu Huisheng’s traits but was now crossing them out.

Clearly, the profile hadn’t convinced them. Being new to the unit, Liu Huisheng needed a definitive win.

“Liu Huisheng.”

Zhao Yu called her full name.

“What is the basis for your profiling results?”

Tell them it isn’t plucked from thin air.

Liu Huisheng tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the small brown mole at the corner of her eye shining like a spark in the stillness. She laid out her reasoning:

“Serial arsonists usually view the fire as a release valve for their frustrations with society. This implies they have no friends in life, leading to the traits of ‘introverted’ and ‘socially impaired.’

Secondly, serial arsonists are predominantly adolescents or young adults with stunted psychological development or warped mental states. This points to a ‘low education level.’ Looking at the three cases in Wengcheng, the scale of the fires is escalating, meaning the perpetrator is losing control. Thus, even if they are an adult, they are likely young—between 16 and 25.

Research shows that 80% of severe criminal behavior is linked to childhood experiences. Since the suspect repeatedly targets kindergartens, it suggests they likely suffered a fire or burn injury at that age. They are projecting their revenge onto children. Consequently, they likely carry burn scars themselves.

All three kindergartens are in the south. Combined with low education and low income, he likely has no vehicle and lives in the Southern District’s affordable housing.

Finally, the suspect climbed a water pipe to enter a second-story window. Xu Qin didn’t notice him even when she was up. This suggests a slender build and a height below 175cm.

That’s all for now. If you want more details, I can go deeper. Want to hear them?”

One by one, point by point, she had deconstructed her “profile” into a thesis, laying it clearly before everyone.

Zhao Yu nodded, jamming her hands into her pockets. “Mhm. Seems sound to me.”

Qin Song stood up, unable to accept it. “Captain, we work on evidence. What she just said is just statistical probability. You can’t generalize like that.”

Zhao Yu looked at him. “How do you think we should investigate?”

“I think Jiang Wenbin is the strongest lead. He abuses kids and skimps on safety. Digging into him will yield results.”

“And you?” Zhao Yu asked Liu Huisheng.

“Check the low-rent housing districts,” Huisheng said, taking a sip of milk tea.

“Low-rent housing?”

“Yes. The suspect either lives alone or in a group home, not with family. The housing would be cheap and rudimentary. It’s a strong direction.”

“Anything else?”

“Wait for the security guard.”

“The guard?”

“Yes. Li Changcheng. The nurse said he won’t wake up until tomorrow morning.”

Zhao Yu gazed at her. These eyes, which she hadn’t seen in eight years, held so much that was different from the past. She couldn’t see through everything, but she saw a small, solid island in the middle of the misty river—something real.

“Fine.”

Zhao Yu pulled her hands out of her pockets and rested them on her hips, her lean waist dipping and the veins on the back of her hands standing out.

“Qin Song wants to investigate Jiang Wenbin. Liu Huisheng wants to investigate the guard. What do the rest of you think?”

This scene had happened before. Years ago, a green Zhao Yu had joined the unit on her first day during a manhunt. The Captain had let her choose: the back door of the factory or the front.

Zhao Yu had chosen the front.

Out of eight people, she was the only one.

“Running for your life? You always go out the back.”

“No one goes out the front. Just say you’re scared of getting hurt, little sister.”

“The Captain has experience; I’m following the Captain.”

In the end, Zhao Yu caught the fugitive fleeing through the front. The fugitive’s hideout had a rooftop connection to the front gate—exactly as she had predicted.

“Um,” Chen Doudou said tremulously. “I’m new, I don’t have experience. The Vice-Captain is a veteran, so I’ll go with him.”

“Yeah, Jiang Wenbin has a history of abuse. Checking out a hypocrite like that is bound to lead somewhere.”

“The guard isn’t even awake. You can’t even talk to him. Better to check Jiang.”

One after another, not a single person stood with Liu Huisheng. It made sense: between a battle-hardened veteran and a workplace rookie, everyone knew how to bet.

“All right then.”

Zhao Yu nodded, a strand of hair falling across the bridge of her nose.

“You all go investigate Jiang Wenbin. I’ll go with Liu Huisheng to check the guard.”

Clack!

The sound was like a bamboo stalk snapping. While everyone was happily painting a picture of unity, Zhao Yu had decided to swim against the current.

“Captain, are you serious?” Qin Song couldn’t believe his ears.

“Mhm,” Zhao Yu said matter-of-factly. “We’ll split into two groups. Share leads as you find them. Don’t slow down the case.”

“And if I’m faster than her?”

“Then it means her investigative skills need work.”

Liu Huisheng smiled. “Vice-Captain, you have more people and more experience. It’s only natural you’d be faster, right?”

“Glad you know it.”

“But I was wondering one thing.”

“What?”

“What if I’m faster than you?”

Qin Song’s face went through several shades of pale and red. He ground his teeth for a long time before finally snapping:

“If you beat me to it, I’ll admit your method works. From then on, I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. No questions asked.”

A bet was made.

*******************************************

“Captain… do you, uh, like Sheng-jie?”

Chen Doudou caught Zhao Yu alone in the restroom and whispered the question.

Zhao Yu froze mid-handwash. “No.”

Chen Doudou didn’t buy it. “But you went up against the Vice-Captain just for her. I thought you liked her and didn’t want her to be bullied.”

Zhao Yu hated discussing feelings, especially regarding Liu Huisheng, so she countered:

“So you think you were bullying her?”

Chen Doudou panicked. “No! I swear!” She explained, “I just don’t know how to solve cases yet! If I’m going to learn, I have to learn from the Vice-Captain. He’s got the experience. I just want to know why you and Sheng-jie both want to check the guard? He’s not even awake. Why put your money on him?”

Zhao Yu clicked her tongue, shook the water off her hands, and wiped them on her pants. She pulled a photo from her pocket and shoved it into Doudou’s hand.

The photo was a blurry, enlarged surveillance still. It showed a crowd of onlookers forcing open the kindergarten’s iron gate. A group of men were pushing, while women behind them carried buckets of water, ready to rush in.

It looked like a normal photo of the first group of bystanders trying to help.

“What’s wrong with it?” Doudou asked.

Zhao Yu said coldly: “I’ve told you many times. Details.”

Details, details, details.

The most important thing in a case is catching the details.

But Doudou couldn’t see anything. She took the photo back to her desk and stared at it until ten o’clock, nearly burning a hole through the paper.

“Doudou, it’s ten. Go home,” Xiao Fei said, coming back to grab his uniform.

“Not yet, I’m looking for details.” Doudou looked up miserably. “Why are you taking your uniform?”

“Oh, the Vice-Captain said we’re visiting Jiang Wenbin’s family tomorrow morning. He wants us in uniform to look official.”

“Oh. Your shoulder patch is loose, though. It’s about to fall off.”

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s stuck on there good!”

Zing!

A bolt of realization struck. Chen Doudou’s smile vanished. Her brain, usually a smooth machine, suddenly jolted as she stared back at the blurry black-and-white photo.

In the top right corner, among the men pushing the gate, was one man whose back was to the camera. On his shoulder, there was a distinct, sharp glint of light—exactly like the metallic shine of a police or security shoulder patch.

She frantically pulled up the Greenlight Kindergarten staff files. In the security guard’s ID photo, his uniform bore two silver horizontal bars on the shoulder patch.

The man in the crowd wasn’t a bystander. It was the guard!

The truth flooded her mind. Chen Doudou shouted into the empty office:

“The guard was outside with the onlookers? He was supposed to be on duty! He should have been inside the kindergarten! What was he doing outside in the middle of the night?!”

Zhao Yu hadn’t chosen Liu Huisheng because of a crush or to protect her. She had seen the flaw in the guard’s story and decided to strike there!