The dog Shi Ting spoke of was a brown-and-white Springer Spaniel. This breed had brown ears that hung down on both sides like two little fans — from a distance, they looked like a girl wearing a lotus-leaf fringe.

Yan Qing knew something about Springer Spaniels, as the criminal investigation unit also kept two Springer bloodhound dogs. After rigorous, systematic training, these dogs could track blood traces and scents.

She had once watched a challenge-type program where a bloodhound named Grassroots had pinpointed its target from blood diluted two quadrillion times over.

But this era clearly lacked such training techniques, and police dogs were not yet widely used in criminal investigations.

“I found this dog myself — I was only keeping it casually at first. I never expected it to be especially sensitive to scents and bloodstains.” When Shi Ting saw Jiangguo, he looked like a proud father seeing a son who had made something of himself, and rare pride showed on his face. “Once, we discovered a body in a refuse pile — stabbed multiple times, blood everywhere. After examining the scene, we determined the refuse pile was not the primary crime scene. The deceased had no identification whatsoever, and no one had reported them missing. After the Jinlin Guard posted notices for several days, the victim’s identity still couldn’t be established. That day, I brought Jiangguo to the Jinlin Guard headquarters. Liang Ping happened to be holding a blood sample from the deceased, about to file it in the archive. He held it out to Jiangguo as a joke and teased, ‘Dogs are supposed to have such sensitive noses — can you trace where this blood came from?’ Unexpectedly, after barking a few times, Jiangguo bolted outside. I followed him the whole way, watching him press his nose to the ground and keep sniffing — until he led me straight back to the refuse pile. I was astonished and asked if he could find the primary crime scene. Do you know what happened in the end?”

It was the first time Yan Qing had heard Shi Ting speak at such length. He looked animated, as though genuinely excited.

“He found the primary scene?”

Shi Ting looked toward the brown-and-white figure busily working not far off. “He led me directly to the killer. It turned out the killer had given the clothes he’d worn during the crime a quick wash and put them back on. Jiangguo simply followed the scent of the blood and found him.”

“Jiangguo is truly remarkable.”

“Don’t go praising him — impressive moments like that are rare. Most of the time, he is completely useless. Sleeping is his real specialty.” While speaking, Shi Ting had already pushed Yan Qing to the front of a row of low earthen flat-roof dwellings. Jiangguo had a rope around his neck and was being led by someone, sniffing eagerly this way and that.

“Woof!” Perhaps having spotted Shi Ting, Jiangguo worked even harder. He quickly stopped at one of the flat-roof dwellings and barked repeatedly.

Shi Ting was pleased. “Found it.”

As soon as Shi Ting and Yan Qing approached, Jiangguo wagged his tail and ran toward them. But instead of circling around his own master, he pranced in front of Yan Qing like a lapdog — shaking his head back and forth, utterly smitten.

Yan Qing was at a loss for words.

What was happening? This dog seemed unusually enthusiastic toward her.

Bai Jin walked up from behind and gave the dog a swat on the head. “Hey — you shameless mutt, always fawning over pretty girls.”

Shi Ting gave the dog a resigned look, then blew a short whistle. “Let’s go.”

Jiangguo lifted his rear end and trotted happily after Shi Ting.

The flat-roof dwelling was not conspicuous. In this area, white-walled gray-tiled houses like this stretched on in rows.

“Someone’s inside.” Bai Jin peered through the window, then drew his firearm from his holster. The others behind him all grew more cautious as well.

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