Shi Ting gave a slight nod. “This matter, in fact, begins with a serial murder case involving dance girls that recently occurred in Shun Cheng. Several days ago, three dance girls were killed in succession in Shun Cheng. The victims had their heads severed and their bodies stuffed inside large doll figures. The killer left coded messages at each crime scene—these codes were advance notices predicting the next victim. After Bopo of the Baba Dance Hall was killed, the coded message left on her body pointed directly to someone at the Hegde Dance Hall—Gaga, which is Miss Qin Peipei’s nickname.”

Once again, all eyes in the room turned toward Qin Peipei.

“Initially, we believed this to be a vicious case designed to taunt the military police division. In fact, the killer intended to divide our attention. The true objective was tonight’s ball.”

“Then why would you suspect me?” Qin Peipei frowned. “Your people watched me around the clock. You should know better than anyone that during that time, I did nothing. As for that note you mentioned—handwriting can be forged. Since Director Shi cannot catch the real culprit, he has decided to frame a helpless woman who couldn’t harm a fly?”

“Miss Qin is right. Miss Qin is indeed not the killer who murdered those dance girls—the real culprit is someone else.” Shi Ting shifted direction: “Because killing those dance girls was never Miss Qin’s ultimate goal. Miss Qin had one and only one objective from the very beginning—” His gaze moved to Huimura beside him.

The people around them could not help but begin murmuring among themselves.

“The killer went to such elaborate lengths—using three lives to draw our attention toward Miss Qin—precisely to provide her cover. Under our twenty-four-hour surveillance, whatever Miss Qin did could not escape our sight. At the same time, we would serve as her most valuable alibi.”

Qin Peipei smiled. “Director Shi himself acknowledged it—whatever I did, I couldn’t escape your eyes. So tell me, how exactly was I supposed to kill Mr. Huimura? This entire venue is filled with military police and guard personnel. Every guest who attended the ball was searched; not even a nail clipper was allowed in. The drinks were checked repeatedly—poisoning would have been even less possible. What capability could a helpless woman like me possibly have?”

Shi Ting said calmly: “Miss Qin didn’t need to do anything deliberate. She simply needed to keep drinking with Mr. Huimura.”

“That’s laughable. Can drinking wine kill a person? This is the first I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

“Drinking wine is not easily fatal—but Mr. Huimura is a different case.” He glanced in Yan Qing’s direction. “Yan Qing, since Miss Qin does not understand, why don’t you explain it to her?”

Yan Qing, suddenly called upon, walked forward with composure. Her dress that day was quite understated—nothing like the other ladies, who were adorned with pearls and jewels and gleaming brilliance. Yet it was precisely that quality of refined, dignified elegance that drew the attention of those around her, each one inwardly sighing at the sight of a woman as flawless as polished jade.

Yan Qing glanced at Qin Peipei, her tone measured. “If Mr. Huimura had only been drinking, he would have been perfectly fine. But if he drank strong liquor and then took the wrong medicine—that would have been a matter of life and death.”

She took the medicine bottle Bai Jin handed to her. “These are the pills Mr. Huimura was about to take. During this time, I had someone conduct a chemical analysis of the pills. They found that what is inside is an anti-inflammatory antibiotic.”

This was essentially cephalosporin—though the name used in this era was different.

“But antibiotics aren’t lethal, are they?” someone in the crowd said. “I take them myself all the time.”

“Taking antibiotics alone is not lethal—unless one has an allergy. But the most important thing to know about this particular antibiotic is that it must never be taken alongside alcohol. If someone consumes excessive alcohol and then takes an increased dose of this antibiotic, it will trigger a disulfiram reaction, which can ultimately cause death from cardiac arrest or acute heart failure. And it was precisely this that Miss Qin intended to exploit—to kill Mr. Huimura in a way that left no visible trace.”

Almost no one present was aware of this fatal incompatibility—a reflection, too, of how underdeveloped medical knowledge remained in this era.

“Miss Yan, you give me far too much credit.” Qin Peipei smiled. “I am no miracle worker. I had no way of knowing that Mr. Huimura would be taking antibiotics, let alone knowing when he would take them.”

“No—you knew.” Yan Qing looked directly at her. “Because what Mr. Huimura has been taking all along is not antibiotics at all. When I first observed Mr. Huimura, I noticed that his complexion was sallow and pale, and his eyelids showed edema. I had Shi Ting make an inquiry, and indeed—Mr. Huimura suffers from chronic nephritis. This condition requires consistent long-term medication. You must have known that Mr. Huimura takes medicine every day, and you knew the time he takes it. And so you replaced Mr. Huimura’s medication with antibiotics. As for why you didn’t simply use poison directly—first, you wanted Mr. Huimura to collapse at the ball itself, so that the responsibility could be pinned on the Marshal. Second, you had the military police division’s protection around the clock, which would give you the perfect alibi. Even if Mr. Huimura died, no one would suspect you.”

“My every move was being watched by the military police division. I would have had no chance to swap out Mr. Huimura’s medicine bottle, would I?” Qin Peipei fixed her gaze on Shi Ting. “With those sharp eyes of yours watching the entire ball, Director Shi—did you ever see me switch out Mr. Huimura’s medicine bottle?”

Yan Qing shook her head. “The medicine bottle was switched out two days ago.”

“Two days ago, the military police division was with me every step of the way. Miss Yan may ask them herself—whether I had the time and opportunity to swap out a medicine bottle.”

“Swapping the medicine bottle and carrying out the killing were never things Miss Qin needed to do herself.” Shi Ting took up the thread. “I said it before—the killer murdered three people to draw attention toward you precisely in order to protect you. With Mr. Huimura dead, you would be able to walk away completely clean. So you had no need to swap the medicine yourself, and no need to personally carry out the killings. All of this was arranged in the shadows by others, and your means of communication with them was this eagle.”

Shi Ting continued: “Your feigned attack earlier served two purposes—first, to remove any suspicion from yourself; and second, to establish an alibi, so that when Mr. Huimura died, no one would suspect you when you were not even present.”

“When I was attacked, your people were right outside the door.” Qin Peipei argued.

“You said so yourself—my people were outside the door. No one saw what happened inside the room. So was there truly an attacker who came in?”

“Is Director Shi solving cases on instinct?” Qin Peipei let out a derisive laugh. “No evidence—nothing but guesswork?”

“Evidence, naturally, we have.” Yan Qing stepped toward her, took hold of the bandage on her wrist, and gave it a gentle tug. The layers of gauze unwound, revealing the raw, red wound beneath.

Qin Peipei glared at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“When I asked you earlier, you told me where the attacker was standing when you were struck. You said that when you turned around, the attacker slashed at you, and you instinctively raised your arm to block.”

As she spoke, she suddenly brought her palm down in a strike toward Bai Jin’s side. He instinctively raised his arm.

“As you can all see—when a person is struck head-on, their natural reflex is to raise their arm to block. In many slashing incidents, victims bear defensive wounds. But Miss Qin’s wound is peculiar. The injury is on the inner side of her forearm—meaning that when she raised her arm, there was a rotation of the wrist. In such a dangerous situation, would she really have had the presence of mind to rotate her arm? Moreover, when a blade strikes downward from above, it produces a wound that is sharp at the top and blunt at the bottom. But Miss Qin’s wound is precisely the opposite—blunt at the top, sharp at the bottom. Under the circumstances she described, this type of wound would have been impossible to produce.”

Qin Peipei’s eyes moved rapidly as she stared at the wound on her arm.

“So how was Miss Qin’s wound formed?” Yan Qing raised her own arm, revealing skin white as snow. “Only by holding the blade oneself and drawing it downward from above—that is the only way this wound could have been made. In other words, Miss Qin’s injury was self-inflicted. There was no sudden intruder.”

“Ah, I see.” Even the Marshal nodded repeatedly at this, his gaze toward Yan Qing carrying a new measure of appreciation.

He had long heard that this daughter-in-law of his had made considerable strides in medicine and had helped the military police division crack several major cases. Today was the first time he had seen her at work in an investigation, and he was struck by her steadiness, her composure, and the clarity of her reasoning—bearing more than a passing resemblance to his own son.

“This is nothing but conjecture,” the speaker said—not Qin Peipei, but Yan Qin. Unable to bear the eyes of those around her turning toward Yan Qing, she found the sight unbearable. “Who knows whether you’re simply making things up?”

The Marshal heard this and cast a cold glance in her direction, shaking his head inwardly. Both daughters of the Yan Family—and Yan Qin was even the legitimate daughter. When set side by side like this, the difference in quality was glaring.

Utterly foolish.

Madam Shi also shot Yan Qin a fierce look. Everyone knew what was at stake for the Marshal this evening. Had they failed to uncover this conspiracy and allowed Huimura to die on the spot, not only would the Marshal’s hopes of cooperating with the Dik Kingdom have dissolved into nothing—he would have thoroughly alienated the Dik Kingdom people entirely. At a time when every warlord was vying to draw closer to the Dik Kingdom, this would have meant disqualifying himself from the game outright.

For Yan Qin to speak up for the enemy at such a moment, without regard for the occasion, was truly to undermine the Marshal’s position in the most brazen way possible.

Yan Qing looked in astonishment at her own sister. For the sake of making her miserable, Yan Qin truly had no sense of time or place.

But there was no need for Yan Qing to say a word. Shi Ting had already spoken, his voice low and steady: “Miss Qin opened the window herself, creating the illusion that someone had entered from outside. But when the military police division inspected the room, the window latch was secured from the inside. How then did an outsider get in—is there some technique of passing through walls?”

Qin Peipei hurriedly said: “When your people inspected the room, the window was indeed latched. But I felt stuffy and wanted some air, so I opened it again afterward. The attacker could have entered at that moment.”

Upon hearing this, Shi Ting gave a soft, quiet sigh. “Miss Qin, your story is riddled with holes. Do you truly think so little of the military police division?”

—