Despite having a clear investigative direction, the inquiry was not going smoothly.

The victim, Leng Yu, was eighteen years old and a third-year student at the nursing school. She had a withdrawn personality, almost no friends, and no one knew where she had come from or where she lived. Military Police Bureau officers followed the address she had registered with the school — only to find it didn’t exist. In Shun Cheng, that address was nowhere to be found.

Without knowing where Leng Yu lived, there was no way to learn more about her circumstances, and the investigation ground to a temporary halt.

“Did she have any close male friends?”

“No. Never saw any.”

“Where did she usually go after school?”

“Home, I suppose.”

“Alone?”

“Alone. She always kept to herself. Very mysterious.”

“What was her general personality like?”

“Quiet, but fierce. If anyone bothered her, she’d lash out.”

Questioning Leng Yu’s classmates had produced nothing of value.

Just as the interviewing officer was beginning to feel hopeless, there came a knock at the door.

In walked a woman in her mid-forties, with a carefully permed hairstyle. She was dressed in a grey blouse and trousers, with a low-neck white knit sweater underneath.

“This is Leng Yu’s teacher, Luo Baimei,” another officer introduced.

Luo Baimei sat down, her expression heavy with gloom. “Such a good child — how could she just die like that? She only had half a year left until graduation.”

“Teacher Luo, please help us by telling us what you know about Leng Yu.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know her very well. Average grades, withdrawn personality. Whenever I tried to speak with her, she would barely say a word.”

“What were her family circumstances like?”

“Modest, I’d say.” Luo Baimei replied. “She dressed plainly.”

“Were you aware that she may have had a male companion?”

Luo Baimei looked startled. “How is that possible? She was just a child. How could she have a male companion? I think you must be mistaken.”

The officer said nothing more, had Luo Baimei sign her statement, and dismissed her. The questioning had again turned up nothing.

As darkness fell, Shi Ting returned to the Military Police Bureau. Yan Qing had just stepped out of the examination room, water still drying on her hands.

“Any progress?” Yan Qing shook the droplets from her fingers.

“We can’t locate Leng Yu’s family. The students and teachers who knew her all insist she had no male companions and kept entirely to herself.”

“That is strange.” Yan Qing tapped her index finger lightly against her knee. “Do you think she might have been engaged in that kind of trade?”

“It’s possible.” Shi Ting pulled up a chair and sat down. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll take you to get something and then see you home.”

Shi Ting chose an unassuming little restaurant and ordered a few vegetable dishes. When the food arrived, he set the chopsticks down in front of Yan Qing. “Eat.”

Yan Qing hadn’t thought she was hungry — but the aroma of the food stirred her appetite.

“Any new findings from today’s autopsy?” Shi Ting took a slow bite of rice.

“Still can’t confirm the cause of death.” In all her years as a forensic examiner, she had handled a few cases where the cause of death remained elusive — some had taken years before the truth finally came to light. “I keep feeling like I’ve missed something. I’ll go back and look again tomorrow.”

“You’re not a forensic examiner for our bureau — you don’t need to push yourself this hard. You’re not fully recovered yet. You should be resting.”

“How did you know I was ill?” Yan Qing asked, genuinely curious.

—