Bloody Wedding

By the time Liu Huisheng returned to the police station, the commendation meeting had already ended.

Zhao Yu was called to the Second Criminal Investigation Unit by Qin Song to share her experience. Brother Zhong sat by the window clutching his goji berry thermos, watching the trees; Xiao Fei and Han Bing were discussing where to have dinner; and Chen Doudou had run off to find the instructor to ask if the group photo could be retaken tomorrow.

The group photo for the commendation meeting.

Liu Huisheng had been absent. The “Best Newcomer Award,” originally intended for her, was tucked back into an envelope, and the headline “Genius Profiler Solves Serial Arson Case” had been changed to “Major Crimes Unit Solves Serial Arson Case.” Everyone in the unit had contributed, but everyone knew the primary credit belonged to Liu Huisheng.

However, the police force would not tolerate her absence this time.

“If I were a corporate boss and you were my employee, I wouldn’t restrict you,” Deputy Chief Liao Changjian said, his hands clasped on the desk. His eyes, dark and solemn like a 1990s wall clock, remained fixed on Liu Huisheng. “Because the more capable a person is, the less you can expect them to be obedient.”

Liu Huisheng stood a few meters away, as still as a nail, her hands clasped in front of her. Not knowing how to respond, she simply remained standing there.

Liao Changjian continued:

“But the police force is different. Like the military, it has strict discipline, solemn principles, and an order of iron. A police officer abandoning their post is like a doctor missing from the operating room or a pilot leaving the cockpit. If there’s an emergency mission or an urgent case and the department sends someone out only to find no one there, how are we supposed to protect the people?”

Because of this incident, the higher-ups had revoked Liu Huisheng’s Best Newcomer Award. Liao Changjian’s lecture was logically sound; Liu Huisheng accepted the blame and the punishment without defense. However, toward the end, when Liao Changjian told her to go out and take a group photo with the Major Crimes Unit for the commendation cover, Liu Huisheng reacted as if facing a great enemy and flatly refused.

“Deputy Chief, I won’t join the photo. Just photographing them is fine.”

“What, throwing a tantrum now?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I believe the Major Crimes Unit needs some fresh faces. During this last operation, I only managed to sneak into the tenement building because I was an unfamiliar face.”

There was some truth to that, Liao Changjian thought, but as his eyes fell on Liu Huisheng’s face, his sharp gaze caught a hint of hidden trouble. Her refusal to be in the photo was definitely not as simple as her excuse suggested.

“Fine.”

Liao Changjian stared at her but didn’t press further. His wheat-colored skin was as tough as copper, concealing thoughts accumulated over half a lifetime. Yet he felt that all those thoughts combined didn’t weigh as much as the single thread of truth he had glimpsed in Liu Huisheng.

She was like a newly glued plaster statue—covered in cracks from top to bottom, yet impossible to see through to what lay inside. It could be gold ingots, or it could be snakes and insects.

Emerging from the Deputy Chief’s office, she was pulled aside by the instructor, who reminded her that her probationary period wasn’t over yet and she must strictly follow police discipline. More than a reprimand, the instructor feared that a lack of discipline would become a stumbling block in Liu Huisheng’s career.

“Perhaps you went out for something very urgent. But Liu Huisheng, you are the most capable of this batch of newcomers. I don’t want your discipline to affect your future.”

One can be young and spirited, but one must avoid being arrogant.

This was Liu Huisheng’s first lesson.

However, life is long, an endless cycle of lessons, teachings, and reflections.

Fear, however, remains forever fear; it never transforms into bravery.

The sensation of insomnia attacked her mind once again.

The curtains were drawn tight without a single gap. Every lamp was turned on, and every cabinet door stood open. A stun baton and a fruit knife sat on the nightstand. Her body was curled up against the headboard as she read recently published behavioral psychology papers on her laptop. She waited for the English words to print themselves onto her heart one by one, turning into black butterflies and flying into her blood vessels, before finally clicking the “X” in the top right corner and opening the next document.

She certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, nor did she dare to.

At least not until she received the investigation news from Shawshank Prison.

Buzz! Buzz!

The vibration of the phone was like a boulder crashing to the ground. Liu Huisheng jolted in fright, her body freezing against the headboard, instantly petrified. She tentatively reached out, pausing in mid-air, her fingers curved like withered branches. Only after the screen went dark did she reach out again.

It was WeChat.

Due to privacy settings, the lock screen only showed a notification without the specific content or the sender.

Phew…

She breathed a sigh of relief.

At least it was WeChat; she couldn’t receive messages from non-friends.

If it had been a text message and that phrase “Hi, Angel” had crashed into her sight again, she wouldn’t have known how to cope.

It was Zhao Yu—

[My water pipe burst. Can I crash at your place for the night?]

The seed coat of a certain seed in her heart peeled back, and a tiny sprout poked through. Her slender thumb slid across the screen, trembling slightly as she tapped the keyboard twice.

[Okay]

A minute later, Zhao Yu entered. Her medium-long hair was draped over her shoulders, the ends curling slightly upward. Against the dark blue of her clothes, her usual sharpness had faded by thirty percent.

“Sorry for the intrusion.” She came in, closing the security door behind her and sliding the small latch.

“It’s fine. How’s the pipe at your place?”

“I turned off the main valve.”

“Okay.”

“Mhm.”

“I turned my other room into a study; there’s no bed.”

“Okay.”

And so, Zhao Yu simply spread a blanket on the sofa, fluffed the pillow twice, and lay down.

Yesterday, the two had parted on bad terms because of an ambiguous kiss; today, they were sleeping under the same roof.

Liu Huisheng felt comforted.

It wasn’t that their relationship had been eased or repaired, but rather that Zhao Yu’s presence allowed her to put down the knife.

Zhao Yu was a woman of few words. She closed her eyes as soon as she lay down, but Liu Huisheng knew she was a slow sleeper.

After the ceiling light in the living room was turned off, the light from the bedroom spilled out diagonally, casting a blurry pool of light that stopped at the sofa legs. Zhao Yu lay comfortably enveloped in the darkness.

Liu Huisheng gazed at her through the dim light. The thin illumination outlined a stoic profile, with only the necklace at her throat reflecting a silver-white arc.

“They all asked me what I went out for this afternoon. Why didn’t you?” she asked.

Zhao Yu’s hand remained draped over her face. Without moving, she said:

“I have no interest in those things. I only know that I have to work tomorrow. I need to wake up at 6:30, run until 7:00, come back, wash up, shower, eat breakfast, and then drive to work—avoiding the morning rush hour to clock in before 9:00.”

Liu Huisheng was stunned for a moment. Her tensed nerves suddenly relaxed, and the blood at her heart surged back into circulation.

That was right.

Wake up at 6:30, come home at 7:00, shower, eat, clock in at 8:00.

No matter how terrifying or horrific the past was, the future still had to be lived, didn’t it?

Look forward in all things.

Thinking this, Liu Huisheng put the fruit knife and the stun baton back into the drawer, turned off her computer, and lay down in her blankets.

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

The next day, Liu Huisheng went running with Zhao Yu. Even though they started together, she ran two fewer laps around the neighborhood and still returned home later than Zhao Yu. Panting and exhausted, she only recovered after a hot shower.

Chen Doudou had taken leave and didn’t come to work, saying she was attending a wedding. As a result, the lunch table in the cafeteria was much quieter.

“Usually, I think Doudou is too noisy, but when she’s not here, it feels empty,” Qin Song lamented.

“Heh, I was thinking the same. Always feels like something’s missing.”

“Hmph, now you all know how good Doudou is? She’s a cute girl, and you’re always bullying her.”

“Since when? I call that ‘hitting is kiss, scolding is love,’ okay? Let me tell you, Doudou is the mascot of our unit. If anyone dares to make her cry, see if I don’t skin them!”

“I heard it’s a distant relative. Actually, Doudou didn’t have to go, right?”

“Originally, no. But apparently, the groom’s family is quite influential, so her mom insisted she go.”

As they were talking, Liu Huisheng’s phone rang. It was none other than Chen Doudou, who was over ten kilometers away.

Liu Huisheng placed her index finger to her lips, signaling everyone to be quiet, and then tapped the answer button.

“Hello, Doudou? What’s wrong?”

The voice on the other end was very quiet, making it impossible to hear through the receiver. Two seconds later, Liu Huisheng gripped her chopsticks tightly, her expression turning tense as she pressed:

“Why are you crying? What happened?”

On the other end, Chen Doudou sobbed:

“Sister Sheng, someone is dead…”

The sound of sobbing traveled from the phone into her ears. Liu Huisheng’s eyes froze as she looked at Zhao Yu. With one look, Zhao Yu realized the severity of the situation. She raised her hand, signaling for the phone.

“Xiao Chen, what’s the situation?” She asked directly after putting it on speaker.

Chen Doudou’s voice was trembling with fear: “Captain Zhao, someone died at the wedding. The groom is dead…”

“What’s the situation at the scene?”

“It—it’s very chaotic, extremely chaotic. The bride fainted.”

“Where is the body?”

“I—I didn’t dare look closely. They said he died kneeling on the ground. The whole room is covered in blood. I—I’m scared.”

“Chen Doudou.” Zhao Yu’s voice turned stern. “You are a people’s police officer, a criminal investigator. Your responsibility when a homicide occurs is to protect the scene, examine the state of the body and the surroundings, and screen for the killer. It is not to call me and say you don’t know what to do.”

With the call on speaker, the group at the table heard Chen Doudou’s wailing grow even louder.

“S—sorry, Captain Zhao…”

Brother Zhong helped smooth things over:

“Well, it’s the first time Doudou has encountered such a scene; it’s normal to be scared. Doudou, don’t panic. We’re coming right away.”

Zhao Yu took a breath, putting aside her criticism of Chen Doudou for the moment. She instructed:

“Do exactly as I say: Identify yourself as a police officer, call the hotel security over, and ask everyone at the scene to leave so the scene isn’t disturbed. Then close the door and don’t let anyone in until we arrive.”

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

Guo Chong’an, male, 33 years old, General Manager of Changsen Real Estate Co., Ltd. Time of death: no more than 2 hours ago.

By the time Zhao Yu led her team to the scene, it was well-protected.

The deceased was the only one in the room, visible as soon as the door was pushed open. Guo Chong’an, dressed in a white tuxedo, had his back to the door. His body was curled into a ball, kneeling against the wall facing the entrance. His knees were spread at an acute angle, his hands hung to the floor, and his head rested against the wall—a posture of repentance.

The fatal wound was a dagger aimed at the heart from the back.

The knife had not been pulled out; it remained at the angle of insertion, the blade buried in the body and the hilt standing at the level of the shoulder blade. Blood had splattered across half the wall in front of him.

“This was a premeditated murder.”

With a casual glance, Zhao Yu reached a conclusion.

Xiao Fei’s eyes widened. “Captain Zhao, how can you tell?”

Zhao Yu explained: “The room is very tidy; there are no signs of a struggle. With a stab to the heart, blood wouldn’t spray out in a jet if the knife wasn’t removed. Yet he only has this one fatal wound, which means after the killer stabbed him from behind, they pulled the knife out a short way to accelerate the death. This action caused blood to spray from the wound in his chest, leaving these bloodstains on the wall. Such precision isn’t the work of a spontaneous crime.”

Xiao Fei marveled: “So that’s how it is.” He then nudged Chen Doudou’s arm. “See? A master detective is a master detective. Truly different.”

Chen Doudou only dared to stare at the floor. “Mhm, right.”

Liu Huisheng put on her shoe covers, took two steps forward, and knelt beside the deceased. From a side angle, she could see the victim’s expression—mouth open, eyes tightly shut, in great pain. There was a short trail of blood below his nostrils, and his face was a pale, earthy color due to excessive blood loss. His tie sat neatly at his collar, and his suit was meticulously buttoned; the snow-white fabric was free of any grime other than the blood.

Following the direction the deceased was facing, Liu Huisheng looked at the champagne-colored wall tiles. The hard surface appeared smooth and normal. She lowered her eyes to observe the victim’s hands resting on the floor; the fingers of the right hand were noticeably more curled.

She turned on her phone’s flashlight and held it close to the tiles, using the reflection of the strong light to observe any marks. Moving slowly upward from the position of the right hand, scratch marks appeared at a height of about 1.5 meters—more accurately, a chaotic mess of scratches left by skin oils and fingernails.

Zhao Yu stepped forward. “Found marks?”

“Mhm.” Liu Huisheng withdrew her phone.

“What did you see?”

Liu Huisheng pursed her lips and visually estimated the space behind the deceased—it was an empty stretch of floor without tables, chairs, or decorations. The scene of the crime surfaced in her mind:

“The killer is someone the deceased knew. They attacked from behind while the victim walked toward the wall. The victim struggled but was pinned against the wall with great force. When stabbed in the heart, a person can struggle for a while if the knife isn’t removed. But the killer wanted a quick resolution yet didn’t want too much blood splashing on themselves. So, they used a towel to cover the entry wound on the back and pulled the dagger out partway, causing blood to spray from the chest wound onto the wall. Consequently, the victim quickly lost the ability to struggle and knelt to the floor after drawing his last breath.”

“Mhm, that’s similar to what I was thinking.”

Following her description, Zhao Yu looked from the carpet behind the victim all the way to the door. The polished floor seemed like it could hold many clues in the form of footprints.

“But collecting evidence will be difficult. This room is the groom’s lounge. There are sofas and tables to the right of the path. From the morning preparations until the murder, many people passed through—walking, resting on the sofa, or eating snacks from the table. Any of them could have left traces.”

Liu Huisheng agreed with this assessment: “Not only that. The killer’s plan was very meticulous. There certainly won’t be fingerprints on the weapon. Even if we find that towel, it will be hard to extract fingerprints or DNA.”

Just as she spoke, Han Bing’s phone called:

“Captain Zhao, we found something in the garden trash can.”

A blood-stained towel and a dried, bloody wet wipe.

DNA testing confirmed the blood samples perfectly matched the deceased, Guo Chong’an. However, just as Liu Huisheng had predicted, no DNA other than the victim’s was detected on either item.

“Xiao Chen, go get the hotel surveillance footage, especially for the door of the crime scene.”

“Brother Zhong, Old Qin, check the victim’s social connections; see if he had any grudges.”

“Han Bing, Xiao Yu, coordinate with the forensics colleagues and organize the evidence from the scene.”

“Xiao Fei, coordinate with the medical examiner to determine the cause and time of death.”

Everyone took their positions, leaving only Zhao Yu and Liu Huisheng. Looking into those eyes that seemed to see through everything, Zhao Yu leaned against the hallway railing, her elbow resting on it, and asked:

“Is the profile out yet?”

Liu Huisheng leaned against the railing, watching the ginkgo trees below that had yet to turn yellow. She said slowly:

“Male, aged 25 to 40, height between 170 and 185 cm. Average build, meticulous mind, stable income. He likely appears to be a ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ on the outside.”

Zhao Yu nodded in agreement:

“To be able to kill someone at a wedding without anyone noticing, it must have been planned in advance. Someone who can go to such lengths is certainly not simple. When we take statements from the victim’s relatives later, pay close attention.”

She pulled away from the wall, but seeing Liu Huisheng looking worried, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Liu Huisheng watched a beam of light leaking through the ginkgo leaves onto the shadow-covered ground—only that one spot was illuminated.

“Judgmental Murder,” she said, using a technical term.

“What?”

“It refers to a killer who executes the victim by way of a ‘judgment.’ They ‘trial’ the sins the person committed in life and then deliver a death sentence. This type of killer feels no guilt when committing the act; on the contrary, they believe they are acting on behalf of heaven.”

“How can you tell this is a judgmental murder? Just because Guo Chong’an was kneeling?”

“The killer stayed at the scene for a while.”

“How do you know?”

“Normally, a stab to the heart is fatal. When a person loses strength and falls, they would slump to the ground; they wouldn’t have the strength to kneel. After killing the victim, the killer didn’t flee. Instead, they took the time to fix the victim into a kneeling position. This posture is meant to make him repent for his sins.”

Zhao Yu recalled the scene. Indeed, Guo Chong’an’s kneeling posture was far too stable.

She turned and asked:

“You mean the killer killed him fundamentally to make him atone for his crimes?”

“Mhm.”

Liu Huisheng withdrew her gaze, untied her loose hair tie to retighten it, and turned to look at the victim’s relatives—some crying, some grieving—and the hotel manager standing nearby in a daze.

“The wedding would have been recorded, right?”

Since the killer was someone attending the wedding, the camera must have captured them. Whether it was sincere blessings or a heart full of hatred, it could be seen from their expressions.

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

In the conference room on the 4th floor, a projector was playing the video taken at the wedding that day.

From the morning pickup to the best man’s door games, the bridesmaids’ activities, and then to the hotel—everything seemed normal.

“Mr. Guo, today is your big day. Share with us how you’re feeling right now?” a staff member asked Guo Chong’an off-camera.

At that time, Guo Chong’an had just finished his hair and makeup and was preparing to leave to pick up the bride, Fang Qing. His handsome features in the white tuxedo exuded an air of elegance. Facing the camera, he was smiling; the corners of his mouth were turned up, and the muscles around his eyelids were relaxed, without a single wrinkle.

“I’m very happy. I’ve waited a long time for this day. From now on, she won’t be Miss Fang, but Mrs. Guo.”

Liu Huisheng’s gaze was calm as she evaluated:

“A successful man. He doesn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve.”

Even on his wedding day, his smile was a polite micro-smile; there were no wrinkles around the eyes and the muscles hadn’t contracted.

Normally, she would have studied everyone’s expressions in minute detail. But there wasn’t that much time now.

“When did the guests start entering?” she asked the photography staff.

“The first batch was around… almost 10:00.”

“Move the footage there for me.”

“Okay.”

Guo Chong’an was a rare successful figure in the economically depressed Wengcheng. Those attending the banquet were all people of status, some of whom even frequently appeared in financial newspapers.

On the screen, old leaders from government institutions shook hands with Guo Chong’an’s parents while accompanied by their wives; the best men were clamoring for the bridesmaids to sing; waiters carrying full trays of red wine wove through the crowd; and old friends reunited by the wedding chatted about gossip from years ago.

It all seemed harmonious.

But it wasn’t without flaws.

“Stop for a moment.” Liu Huisheng’s eyes narrowed. “Give me the mouse.”

The staff member handed her the mouse and looked at Zhao Yu. Zhao Yu nodded to him: “You can head out first.”

“Oh, okay.”

In the image projected on the white wall, Liu Huisheng rewound 28 seconds and paused. She enlarged the image, and then enlarged it again until the face of the man in the upper right corner occupied the entire screen.

The man was about 30 years old with a buzz cut and a black suit, standing by the fountain with seven or eight other guests. At the time, the fountain was rehearsing for the ceremony. According to the designer’s plan, the fountain would spell out the names of the bride and groom in English before finally displaying the phrase “A Match Made in Heaven.”

“The fountain’s design is excellent, so everyone is smiling—except him.” Liu Huisheng’s finger tapped the table rhythmically.

Zhao Yu looked closely, recalling the classification of smiles Liu Huisheng had explained before. She guessed:

“Is this what you mentioned—a sneer?”

Liu Huisheng nodded. “Exactly. The eye muscles are strained, the eyebrows are pointing down, and though the mouth is forced into a smile, the lips are tightly pursed and the facial muscles are tense. This is a very dangerous expression.”

“Does it represent anger?”

“No,” Liu Huisheng corrected. “It represents hatred. Where is he?”

“In the lounge on the second floor. The scene is locked down; no one has left yet.”

Having said that, the two shared the same thought. Their eyes met, they nodded, and they turned to head out the door.

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

“How many times do I have to say it?”

When Zhao Yu and Liu Huisheng went downstairs, the man named Tang Bin was shouting at the hotel manager:

“I’m very busy! How much longer are you going to keep us locked up? Believe it or not, I’ll sue you for illegal detention!”

The manager was frantic. “Sir, today… something just happened. The police said no one is allowed to leave for a while; it’s very difficult for us too. If you really have something urgent, why not explain it to the police?”

“Explain my ass! I’m telling you, move aside. I have to get back to the office, otherwise I’ll call the police myself, believe it or not!”

Zhao Yu strode over and said loudly:

“Perfect. I happen to be a police officer.”

She flashed her ID in front of Tang Bin, her gaze sharp.

“A homicide occurred not long ago. Everyone attending the banquet today is a suspect. Sir, please cooperate with the investigation.”

“Don’t use the police to pressure me, I know the law too!” Tang Bin’s emotions became heated. “Catching the killer is the job for you police. I didn’t kill anyone, let me leave now!”

Zhao Yu narrowed her eyes. “You can leave. I’ll have my subordinates frisk you. Once we confirm you’re not a suspect, you can go.”

“On what grounds are you frisking me?”

“Because your behavior is suspicious.”

“What’s suspicious about it! I’m telling you, I’m a taxpayer; I have the right to complain about you! You won’t let me go? I’m calling your superior!”

With that, he turned to leave, taking out his phone as if to call someone, but failed to unlock it because his palms were too sweaty.

Zhao Yu stepped forward quickly and grabbed his shoulder. “Sir, please cooperate with the investigation.”

Unexpectedly, Tang Bin suddenly went wild. He shoved Zhao Yu’s hand away and bolted toward the exit.

Snap!

The tensed string broke, and the slender cord pulled into the shape of a lightning bolt, splitting the air.

“Stop!”

Zhao Yu took off in pursuit, lunging like a leopard, her jacket whistling through the air.

Thump, thump, thump…

Tang Bin burst out of the second-floor hallway and sprinted down the stairs, taking them three at a time. He was practically reckless, leaping to the next step before his heel was even steady, moving with incredible speed.

Zhao Yu paused at the top of the stairs, vaulted over the railing, and jumped straight down from the second floor.

Thud!

Her feet hit the ground, her knees bending to cushion the impact. With her right hand braced forward, she landed in a crouched position.

Almost at the same time, Tang Bin reached the first floor via the stairs. Turning to see Zhao Yu appearing as if from the sky, his face turned deathly pale, and he bolted for the main entrance of the lobby.

“Stop!”

Zhao Yu stood up quickly and caught up to him by the revolving door, grabbing him by the collar from behind.

“Agh!”

Tang Bin cried out, turning to push Zhao Yu away. He grabbed a vase from a stand to the right of the door and smashed it toward Zhao Yu’s face with all his might.

Crash—

Zhao Yu raised her arm to block. The vase shattered against her forearm, shards flying everywhere as the liquid inside exploded outward.

Tang Bin seemed possessed. Holding the sharp, broken neck of the vase like a knife, he lunged at Zhao Yu again.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The sharp edges tore through the air. The sound of the rushing airflow was so sharp it practically pierced her eardrums. Zhao Yu nimbly dodged two swings, gauging Tang Bin’s pattern. On the third strike, as the jagged edge aimed for her heart, she dodged to the right. The rim of the bottle just grazed her shoulder, tearing the fabric of her sleeve. In a flash, she locked onto the position of the bottle, seized Tang Bin’s wrist, and spun around instantly as she raised his arm. Sliding behind him, she twisted his right arm behind his back and pressed hard on a pressure point on his forearm.

“Aah—ow, ow, ow!”

Tang Bin let go in pain, and the bottle neck hit the floor with a clang. Immediately following that, his knee was kicked, and he collapsed into a kneel. He tried to struggle by bracing his left hand on the floor, but Zhao Yu stepped heavily on his back, sending his entire body face-down to the floor like a sandbag.

“Zhao Yu!”

“Captain Zhao!”

“Boss, are you okay!”

The rest of the Major Crimes Unit arrived quickly. Qin Song and Brother Zhong worked together to handcuff him.

Brother Zhong was furious. “Daring to assault a police officer—you’ve got some nerve!”

Qin Song quickly frisked him and pulled a palm-length short sword from the right pocket of his suit trousers, questioning sternly:

“Carrying a controlled weapon, refusing to cooperate with a homicide investigation, and assaulting a police officer! Tell me, did you kill Guo Chong’an!”

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

Tang Bin was taken to a police car, escorted back to the station by Qin Song and Brother Zhong. Chen Doudou, Xiao Fei, and others remained at the hotel to handle the forensic colleagues, surveillance footage, and other evidence.

Since Liu Huisheng was skilled at interrogation, she returned to the station in the same car as Zhao Yu.

The car window rolled up slowly. The moment it reached the top, it was like a foot stepping down in mid-air—all the noise was crushed underfoot, and it was instantly silent.

The sound of the air conditioning blew from the vents, its threads plucking the strings of her soft dark hair. Zhao Yu sat in the driver’s seat. She opened the lid of the side storage box and practicedly took out some iodine. She sprayed three solid bursts onto the wound on the back of her hand, capped the bottle, and put it back.

As she was closing the lid, she was stopped by a lean hand.

“What are you doing?” Zhao Yu asked.

Liu Huisheng ignored her. Her soft hand reached out and took the bag of alcohol cotton balls from the storage box. She tore one open, took out the cotton ball, and reached toward Zhao Yu’s face, where the blood had dried—a shard had cut her right cheek when the vase shattered.

“A cut this long—don’t you know it hurts?”

She asked reproachfully.

That serene face suddenly leaned close, and memories drifted back to the past.

Back then, Zhao Yu had gotten into a fight and was afraid Liu Huisheng would be angry, so she had kept it hidden. It wasn’t until Liu Huisheng finished class that evening and cornered her at her dorm door with antiseptic and bandages, ordering her to roll up her sleeves so she could treat the scrapes one by one with alcohol cotton balls.

“An area this big—don’t you know it hurts?”

Liu Huisheng had asked her the same thing then.

“If you kiss it, it won’t hurt anymore.” The usually obedient Zhao Yu had committed a great offense that day, but she hadn’t been cast into death row.

Instead, a gentle kiss had landed on her lips—like a feather, dreamlike, etched into her life.

The memory flashed back. Zhao Yu didn’t know where the impulse came from, but she suddenly grabbed the hand Liu Huisheng was using to disinfect her. The slender wrist bone was barely a handful in her palm. She wanted to use force but was afraid of hurting her; she wanted to lighten her grip but was afraid the person in front of her would vanish like a bubble, just as she had under the ginkgo tree eight years ago.

The sunlight at 4:00 PM was strange. It wasn’t as intense as at noon, nor as rich as the sunset; it sat between passion and charm, having a somewhat awkward, middle-of-the-road feel.

A step forward was too much.

A step back was too little.

This ruler of shifting lengths lay between Zhao Yu and Liu Huisheng, and no matter what, they couldn’t grasp the correct measure.

The car fell into silence. One in the driver’s seat and one in the passenger’s, they gazed at each other face-to-face, but Zhao Yu was the first to lose, averting her eyes.

She released her grip. The sensation of her thumb rubbing against the wrist bone stimulated her nerves like ants crawling. She rubbed her index finger hard twice before the thin sweat finally drove away the impulse.

She closed the storage box, started the car, and shifted into gear.

In the passenger seat, Liu Huisheng also withdrew her upper body, half-slumped in her seat. She pursed her lips and said:

“Sometimes, the body is more honest than the mind.”

Zhao Yu had returned to her impenetrable state, saying only: “The mind of a higher animal should reign over the body.”

Liu Huisheng was speechless. After a pause, she said: “Humans are the lowest creatures in this world. Thinking themselves clever, yet often doing the most foolish things.”

“If you’re talking about that night, it was indeed quite foolish.”

“Heh…”

Liu Huisheng let out a hoarse laugh. Zhao Yu, must you always speak this way? Punishing me for leaving without a word back then, punishing me for breaking our promise under the ginkgo tree, punishing me for returning covered in scars yet still loving you.

But do you know? Returning to Wengcheng, standing before you, and telling you I still love you has already cost me all my courage.

“You’re right.”

Of all the thousands of words she could have said, this was the one that finally left her mouth.

The car sped away. The dissipating exhaust blended with the low clouds, planting a sprout of “living towards death” in their hearts.

Two hours later, Liu Huisheng walked out of the interrogation room and replayed the recording of the interrogation in front of the monitor.

Once they stepped into the police station, everyone was fully focused on solving the case. Everything regarding personal feelings was temporarily tucked away in Pandora’s box.

Zhao Yu sat in front of the monitor with an empty chair beside her—one specifically left for Liu Huisheng, who excelled at analyzing interrogations.

“Sister Sheng, Sister Sheng, how was it? I saw him break down at the end; he’s the killer, right?” Chen Doudou and the others immediately gathered around.

“Exactly. He admitted it himself—he brought that knife in specifically to kill Guo Chong’an.”

“And he even dared to hit Captain Zhao. We need to teach him a lesson no matter what.”

Liu Huisheng sat down in front of the monitor and stated her conclusion:

“He didn’t do it.”

“Huh?”

“How can that be?”

“But he admitted it himself.”

Liu Huisheng rewound the video to 39 minutes and 18 seconds and paused, explaining:

“He only admitted that he wanted to kill Guo Chong’an. But the knife that actually killed Guo Chong’an wasn’t his. Don’t forget, his knife was seized from him. The murder weapon is still stuck in Guo Chong’an’s body.”

Chen Doudou lamented: “Ah… so it really wasn’t him? Is it possible he had two knives?”

Liu Huisheng enlarged the paused image:

“Here, I intentionally told him we found his fingerprints at the scene. He slammed the table excitedly and shouted that it was impossible. Normally, when people lie, they try to minimize the range of their movements. Then, I said that once we confirmed the evidence, we would charge him with murder. At this point—”

She clicked the play button. In the footage, Tang Bin grabbed Qin Song’s hand and shouted desperately:

“Officer! I didn’t kill anyone! Believe me!”

Click!

She paused it again.

“Here, he even grabbed the Deputy’s hand. This shows he desperately wants to catch onto us as a lifeline. If he were lying, his body should be in a defensive state. His hands and feet would be pulled toward his body; it would be impossible for him to have physical contact with someone else, especially a stranger. Since he made this movement, it shows he wasn’t lying.”

After this analysis, they ruled out the possibility of Tang Bin being the murderer. As for attempted murder, that charge would be handed over to the procuratorate for trial. The immediate priority was that the most likely suspect they had caught at the wedding scene was not the killer.

Qin Song threw his pen onto the table. “Dammit. After all that work, it was for nothing. Captain Zhao, what do we do now?”

Zhao Yu took a sip of coffee and made an immediate decision:

“Follow the previous division of labor and reorganize the case. We’ll have a meeting in twenty minutes to go over Guo Chong’an’s social relations, romantic history, financial situation, and the evidence from the scene.”

Everyone stood up. “Yes!”

Twenty minutes later, in the Major Crimes Unit conference room.

Qin Song summarized all the information they had gathered:

“Guo Chong’an, male, 33 years old, General Manager of Changsen Real Estate Co., Ltd. The company is valued at approximately 80 million. He has parents and a younger brother. His parents used to run a real estate business and are now retired.

The brother, Guo Chongliang, is 30 years old and the General Manager of Xili Software Design Co., Ltd. His company is valued at about 50 million. It’s said that when Guo Chongliang was starting his business, the deceased gave him 3 million to help him. The brothers’ relationship is supposedly good.

His fiancée, Fang Qing, 29 years old, is a writer who has published four travel essay collections and two sets of novels. She comes from a family of scholars, and her social relations are simple.

Initial investigation shows the deceased had no debts or involvement in high-interest lending. Changsen Real Estate is an old-fashioned enterprise that pays great attention to its reputation. No records show the deceased having grudges in the business world.

Before the incident, the deceased, Guo Chong’an, claimed he felt unwell and returned to the groom’s lounge to rest. Over an hour later, when it was time for the ceremony preparations, the hotel manager went to call him and found him dead.”

Zhao Yu asked: “What about the specific timing?”

Chen Doudou, who was responsible for checking the surveillance, took out her notes filled with timestamps and replied:

“Surveillance shows the deceased left the hall at 9:52 AM. The manager opened the door and found the victim at 11:14 AM. In other words, the victim was killed between 9:52 and 11:14.”

“Did the surveillance capture anyone entering or leaving the crime scene?”

“No. There are no cameras at the door of the lounge or in the hallway outside. So, it’s still unclear who went in. Or, it’s possible the deceased came out during that time.”

Xiao Fei had a thought and asked: “Then is it possible the lounge isn’t the primary crime scene? He was killed outside and then moved inside.”

As soon as he spoke, Zhao Yu and Liu Huisheng said in unison:

“That place is the primary crime scene.”

“That place is the primary crime scene.”

The startling synchronicity was like a gong hitting the floor. With a loud clatter, everyone else shut their mouths.

Zhao Yu cracked her neck, her molars clenched so tightly that the muscles in her jaw were visible. Liu Huisheng blinked unnaturally twice before using her strong social skills to shift the topic.

“Since there are no clues for now, I’ll share my profiling results: Male, aged 25 to 40, height between 170 and 185 cm. Average build, meticulous mind, stable income. He likely appears to be a ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ on the outside.”

Brother Zhong looked troubled. “That range is a bit too broad.”

Liu Huisheng nodded in agreement. “This case is different from the previous arson case. The previous killer had a retaliatory personality, and his appearance was quite different from an average person. This killer is someone who blends into the crowd—someone who can even attend a wedding calmly. And there’s one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“The killer likely has an emotional dispute with either the deceased or the bride.”

To commit a murder on the wedding day and make the deceased kneel in repentance, there must be a deep-seated hatred hidden behind it.