Bai Jin still had one hand on the doorknob, two competing impulses clashing furiously inside his head—to enter, or not to enter.

Shi Ting quickly sensed someone at the door. He straightened after adjusting the cushion and slowly turned around.

Bai Jin suspected his own expression must be quite a sight at that moment.

Meeting Shi Ting’s unruffled gaze, he managed to stammer out: “Reporting.”

“You report without knocking?” Shi Ting’s tone was mild, but carried an undercurrent of pressure.

“I—I had urgent business.”

“Speak then. What is it?”

Shi Ting returned to his desk and sat down, while Yan Qing remained to one side.

“A major murder case has occurred in Wenshan County—an entire family of ten has been massacred.” The moment Bai Jin got to the case, his tongue stopped fumbling.

A massacre?

Shi Ting and Yan Qing instinctively exchanged a glance. A chill shot straight up from the soles of their feet. Both of them immediately thought of the Chen family massacre—that case from Shun Cheng in which thirteen members of a single family had been brutally killed, with the perpetrator still at large to this day.

Shi Ting said, “Go at once and gather Zheng Yun, Shi Cheng, and E’Yuan. Bring four elite officers and Jianguo as well. We depart for Wenshan County immediately.”

“May I come?” Yan Qing asked from her seat, her voice urgent.

The Chen family massacre had always weighed on her heart. Although this new case in Wenshan County might have no connection to it, her professional instincts would not allow her to stand by when confronted with a case of this magnitude.

“Wenshan County is a rural county—it’s a six-hour drive from the Shun Cheng city proper…” Shi Ting hesitated.

He wanted very much to bring Yan Qing, but given the precarious state of her health, he feared six hours of rough road would be too much for her to bear.

“I can manage.” Yan Qing’s gaze was resolute. “I’ll bring Murong. I won’t slow you down.”

Just as Shi Ting was weighing his options, Bai Jin spoke up. “Seventh Brother, bring Miss Yan along. I’m afraid E’Liang Ping won’t be able to handle things on his own. I promise to find the smoothest vehicle in our division and deliver Miss Yan to the destination safe and sound.”

Seeing the earnest looks on both their faces, Shi Ting had no choice but to yield. “Very well—bring Murong with you.”

The division was all men, which was bound to be inconvenient in certain respects.

~

Yan Qing told her father a small lie—that she had urgent business and needed to visit her uncle’s family in Taishan County. The excuse worked, and she slipped out of the house successfully with Murong in tow.

The moment Yan Qing stepped outside, she saw the Military Police Division cars waiting at the gate. But the smooth ride Bai Jin had promised was nowhere in evidence—the moment they left the city limits, the road turned rough and uneven, and no vehicle, not even a tank, could avoid the pitted, rutted surface.

“Miss, are you all right?” The jolting road had Murong worried about Yan Qing’s condition.

Yan Qing did indeed feel rather unwell—her head was heavy and spinning, and her stomach was queasy.

She thought back to how it used to be, when she would work cases across the surrounding counties without pause—six hours by car was nothing, and she had thought nothing of hiking six hours through mountains and rivers on foot.

But this body she now inhabited was a serious liability.

“Miss, should we stop and rest for a moment?” Murong looked out at the road ahead—farmland and forest on both sides, a sparse scattering of houses here and there, the road pocked and potholed as far as the eye could see, as though it would never end.

Yan Qing waved her hand. “It’s all right.”

She had made a firm promise to Shi Ting, and she would not let her personal condition slow the investigation. No matter how wretched she felt, she would endure it.

Just as Yan Qing was preparing to sleep off the discomfort, the two cars ahead suddenly stopped. Their driver, seeing them pull over, steered their car to the roadside as well.

Shi Ting jumped out of his car, the insignia on his cap glinting in the sunlight.

He walked to Yan Qing’s window and gave two light taps on the glass. Murong quickly rolled it down. “Director Shi.”

Shi Ting glanced at Yan Qing first, checking that she seemed all right, then said, “There’s a small restaurant ahead—let’s stop and rest for a bit.”

Hearing that there would be a brief respite, Yan Qing let out a breath of relief.

Once out of the car, a sweet spring breeze washed over her. Breathing in the scent of the countryside, with the warm mountain wind on her face, she felt her head clear and her spirits lift—the discomfort of the long journey fading away bit by bit.

Murong pushed her forward as they brought up the rear. Watching the Military Police Division men file one by one into the restaurant, she murmured softly, “I heard the cars are stocked with provisions—there shouldn’t be any need to stop at a restaurant specifically. Director Shi probably stopped to take care of Miss.”

Even without Murong pointing it out, Yan Qing had already figured as much. Without realizing it, her gratitude toward that man deepened a little more.

The group had a simple bowl of noodles at the restaurant, then continued on their way. The road stayed rough throughout, and they finally arrived in Wenshan County just before nightfall.

Wenshan County was an ordinary small county seat, situated to the south of Shun Cheng in a low-lying area with a damp climate.

Strawberries were the county’s main crop—nearly every household had a strawberry field. At this season, however, the strawberries had only just begun to flower, and there was no fresh, sweet fruit to be had yet.

The local branch chief, Lao Qi, had been standing at the roadside by the county entrance to welcome them. When he spotted the Military Police Division vehicles, he and his assistant hurried forward to meet them.

Most of the local branch officers had never seen Shi Ting before—they only knew he was the Marshal’s son, young and capable.

Now, seeing the man himself, Lao Qi couldn’t help but be struck by him. The man carried a powerful presence and a sharp gaze, his every word and gesture bearing the bearing of someone born to authority.

Lao Qi stood to attention instinctively and stepped forward to salute. “Director Shi.”

He had worked in Wenshan County for ten years. The branch had started out as nothing more than a small public security post. After Shun Cheng established the Military Police Division and promulgated the Shun Cheng Law, their little post had grown into a proper branch, and he had been fortunate enough to become its chief.

Shi Ting gave him a slight nod. “Please, Chief Qi—lead us to the scene first.”

“Yes, sir.” Lao Qi and his assistant got into their car and led the way, with the Military Police Division following close behind.

Lao Qi noticed there was a girl in a wheelchair among the group. She looked no older than seventeen or eighteen, dressed in a white round-collar blouse—the neckline trimmed with a fine patterned border and two black silk ribbons tied in a bow at the chest. Over the blouse she wore a small blue woolen jacket, with wide-legged trousers of a velvet-like fabric below—a look that was clean and simple yet not without a certain fashionable flair.

The girl was strikingly beautiful, though the wheelchair was an unfortunate detail—it seemed she had some physical disability.

Lao Qi couldn’t understand why a woman had appeared in this team, but such questions could only be pondered silently; he didn’t dare voice them aloud.

The roads of Wenshan County were mostly dirt tracks, with farmhouses lined on either side. Behind the houses stretched vast strawberry fields—row upon row of orderly plants, each bearing tiny clusters of white blossoms.

Bai Jin rode in the same car as Lao Qi and questioned him about the case as they went.

According to Lao Qi, the family that had been killed was surnamed Xu. They had moved to Wenshan County ten years ago. The head of the household ran a pharmacy in the county and also dealt in the buying and selling of animal hides and furs.

“Who first discovered that the Xu family had been killed?”

“A neighbor’s dog,” Lao Qi said. “On the morning of the 2nd, while it was still dark, the neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking. When the owner got up to investigate, he found the dog covered in blood. Following where the dog led, he came to the Xu family’s front gate—and found that inside, there was blood everywhere. After the branch received the report, I took men to the scene. I could see it was a serious case and immediately reported it to headquarters. I didn’t expect it would bring the Director himself.”

“You did the right thing.” Bai Jin clapped Lao Qi on the shoulder. “This case is likely more complicated than it looks.”

Lao Qi wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Wenshan County is a small place—usually the worst we deal with is petty theft. Assault cases are rare, let alone something like this. I’ve been at the branch for over a decade, and this is the first massacre I’ve ever seen.”

The officers here were accustomed to quiet, peaceful days—they had grown so idle they spent their time playing cards and drinking. Confronted suddenly with a major case like this, they were even more rattled than the local townspeople.

The Xu family’s house sat on the east side of the main road, with a pond to its left, a strawberry-farming neighbor to its right, and a vast expanse of strawberry fields stretching across the road opposite—unbroken as far as the eye could see.

The entrance to the Xu family home had already been cordoned off with tape. A local officer in uniform sat on a small folding stool, chatting with the crowd of onlookers gathered nearby.

Seeing the police cars approaching in the distance, the officer scrambled to his feet. The spectators began pointing and murmuring among themselves.

The dust kicked up by the cars settled slowly. Someone stepped forward and pushed open the Xu family’s gate.

It was a very ordinary residence—nothing like the standard two-courtyard or three-courtyard compounds of Shun Cheng.

The perimeter wall ran along both sides of the gate. Passing through opened onto a large courtyard, with two hibiscus trees planted in the center, a row of side rooms behind them, and additional rooms flanking each side.

The easternmost room on the side was the kitchen. Outside the kitchen hung a freshly killed pheasant with bright, glossy plumage; inside the cabinet were the remnants of pheasant meat from the previous night’s dinner.

This should have been a simple, clean, ordinary little yard—but to the eyes of all who stood there, it was a scene straight from hell. Blood stains were visible everywhere: on the ground, around the well platform, on the steps, under the eaves, on the windows. There was no escaping it.

The entire Xu family—all ten members—lay fallen throughout the courtyard. Not a single one had survived.

E’Yuan stepped forward and made a circuit of the scene, then shook his head. “All dead.”

“Time of death?” Shi Ting asked.

“Based on rigor mortis and lividity, the time of death was around nine o’clock the previous evening.”

Shi Ting turned to Yan Qing. “I’ll have the bodies transported back to the branch shortly. You and E’Yuan can handle the autopsy there.”

The scene was awash with blood—some of it not yet dry—and Yan Qing’s wheelchair made moving through it difficult.

Yan Qing nodded. “Understood.”

Murong pushed Yan Qing back to one side while Shi Ting and the others put on shoe covers and gloves, then entered the scene one by one.

The Xu family numbered ten in total. The two elders of the family were both in their sixties. They also cared for an older brother who had been struck in the head by a bullet during the war and had remained bedridden and paralyzed ever since.

The two elders had raised two sons, both of whom were married and lived in the side rooms on either side of the main courtyard. The eldest son and his wife had a boy and a girl; the second son’s wife had just given birth to a son this year—still an infant in swaddling clothes.

And that infant, still nursing at his mother’s breast, had also been killed without mercy.

“Again, the neck was cut.” Bai Jin turned over several of the bodies. “Seventh Brother, could this be the same perpetrator as the Chen family massacre?”

Shi Ting said nothing. He crouched before one of the bodies, brow furrowed.

—