At the word ‘murder,’ Ling’ai’s eyes lit up. She had been studying medicine in Xin Guo, and when she heard the medical school intended to establish a forensic science department, she had been among the first to enroll. Now, hearing there was a case, she was desperate to visit a crime scene for the first time.

“Yan Qing, take me with you.” Ling’ai shook her by the arm and pleaded, “I can be your little assistant — your little maidservant.”

“Are you sure?” Yan Qing looked at her with a smile.

“Absolutely certain.”

Yan Qing narrowed her eyes — and, surprisingly, did not refuse. “Then let’s go.”

Qingyuan Manor was a small estate on the outskirts of Shun Cheng. To the eye, it appeared to be an ordinary property, but inside it was a different world entirely.

It was a hidden pleasure den on the outskirts of the city, housing a gambling hall, a dance hall, and an underground fighting arena.

Dihuai drove them to a mountain road not far from Qingyuan Manor. The site of the incident lay at the base of a slope along a certain stretch of that road.

Before they had even drawn close, they could see a crowd of people gathered there — the Military Police Bureau had arrived first.

Ling’ai carried Yan Qing’s toolbox and followed at her side, looking every bit the little assistant. But she was curious about everything around her, glancing here and there as though she had entered a strange new world.

“Sister-in-law is here.” Bai Jin, who was conducting a trace evidence examination, waved his hand over. When he caught sight of the wide-eyed young girl beside Yan Qing, his eyes immediately brightened. “Sister-in-law, is this your new maidservant?”

The girl was quite pretty.

“This is Bai Jian’chuan, captain of the Second Unit of the Military Police Bureau,” Yan Qing introduced. “Trace evidence specialist.”

Bai Jin scratched his head in embarrassment. “Sister-in-law flatters me so — is she trying to get a free meal?”

A hand reached from behind and moved him aside. Shi Ting stepped forward. “Come and look at the bodies.”

E’Yuan was away on fieldwork, so Shi Ting had sent for Yan Qing. More importantly, this was no ordinary case — the identity of the deceased, and the people this case might drag in, were far from ordinary.

Shi Ting nodded toward Ling’ai and led Yan Qing inside the security perimeter.

Ling’ai, seeing this, hurriedly picked up the toolbox and followed.

At the foot of a slope that was not particularly steep, a car stood — or rather, what remained of one. The vehicle had been burned to a blackened shell, entirely unrecognizable in either color or form.

The front right wheel had rolled off the road base and was suspended in the air. Below lay a drop of nearly seventy degrees.

The two seats’ backrests had been reclined to their lowest positions. A person had been in each of the driver and passenger seats; they had now been removed.

“Burned so badly.” Yan Qing caught the strong smell of gasoline.

This looked very much like the scene of a spontaneous vehicle fire. In this era, automobiles were nowhere near as precisely built as in modern times, and spontaneous fires were not uncommon.

Gasoline burns fast and fierce — the slightest carelessness and the result was total destruction.

The bodies had now been removed from the car and laid out on two white sheets.

They were two charred corpses, their bodies contorted into strange shapes. Before she had even approached, Yan Qing could smell the thick, scorched stench of burned flesh.

“Are you sure you want to see this?” Yan Qing glanced at the figure beside her and made a light remark.

Ling’ai was actually a little frightened, but since she had volunteered to come, she could not retreat now. She straightened her chest and put on a show of great composure. “Of course.”

Yan Qing smiled and said nothing.

“Gloves,” Yan Qing said, crouching beside the bodies and extending her hand.

Ling’ai quickly set down the toolbox on the grass, found the gloves inside, and passed them over.

After Yan Qing put on the gloves, she turned one of the bodies over. As it flipped, several flies flew out. A few landed on Ling’ai’s face, and she let out a startled cry.

Ling’ai swatted the flies away and found herself looking at the body’s front side — a charred corpse, so thoroughly burned that even the sex was unidentifiable. The facial bones had been reduced to ash-white, and the chest muscles had been entirely destroyed.

Ling’ai had only ever seen photographs of bodies in books. Now, confronted with the reality, her stomach heaved violently. She dropped the toolbox and rushed to a tree some distance away, bending over to retch.

Yan Qing watched her with a smile and shook her head.

Ling’ai leaned against the tree and heaved for a long while. Just as she felt she was about to vomit her entire stomach out, a blue handkerchief was extended toward her.

Without thinking, she took it and quickly wiped her mouth. The same hand then offered a water bottle. She grabbed it and took a sip, swished it around, and spat it out.

When she had calmed down a little, she turned around. Standing behind her was a young man in uniform — with long, elegant brows, bright eyes set in a straight face, a high nose, and thin lips. He was strikingly handsome.

She had already seen the captain of the Second Unit, who was also an extraordinarily attractive man. But the one before her was different from Bai Jin. Bai Jin was handsome in the way of a dashing young noble — free and easy. This man’s gaze held no warmth, and his lips were drawn tight. He was, in short, deeply cold-faced.

“Thank you.” Ling’ai’s face flushed, partly from her disheveled appearance. “Thank you for the handkerchief and the water.”

“Don’t mention it.” Zheng Yun turned and walked away.

Ling’ai wanted to return the handkerchief, but seeing that the blue-checked cloth was already soiled, she put it away and made a mental note to wash it before returning it.

By the time Ling’ai made her way back to Yan Qing’s side, Yan Qing was already examining the second body.

Ling’ai looked at the two charred bodies and still could not suppress a wave of nausea — yet she saw how completely calm Yan Qing was, as though examining two heads of cabbage at a market stall. She forced herself to stop being a disgrace.

“All done?” Yan Qing’s dissection knife lightly tapped the carbonized lower limbs of the corpse.

“I didn’t realize a scene would be this unpleasant.” She had overestimated herself.

“Everyone has the same reaction the first time. Bai-captain once vomited even worse than you.”

This was nothing but a charred body scene. Were she to encounter bodies hacked apart with multiple blade wounds, or bodies in an advanced state of decomposition, Ling’ai would likely retch until the sky went dark.

“Put on your gloves,” Yan Qing said. “I need you to help me.”

Ling’ai quickly found her gloves and put them on, pushing down the faint nausea in her chest.

“Hold his head steady. I need to cut open his trachea.”

“Alright.” Ling’ai boldly extended her hands. When she touched the scorched, hardened skin, she still could not help shuddering. She tried her best to look away.

When Yan Qing cut open the trachea, a foul odor gushed out. Ling’ai immediately lost control and vomited again.

“The first time I went to a scene, I encountered a group of cats eating a person. From that point on, I developed a fear of cats. Everyone has a first time — you get used to it.” She examined the severed trachea, and a look of understanding appeared in her eyes. “Alright, have them bring the bodies back to the Bureau.”

As Ling’ai was gathering up the items, she asked quietly, “That tall man over there — the rather handsome one — who is he?”

Yan Qing followed her gaze and looked over, just catching sight of Zheng Yun speaking with Shi Ting.

“He’s the captain of the First Unit, Zheng Yun,” Yan Qing said. Then she looked at Ling’ai with a thoughtful expression. “You haven’t taken a liking to him, have you? Not that I blame you — Captain Zheng is attractive, talented, and personally above reproach. Quite an admirable figure.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Ling’ai gave her a look. “He just now vomited with both eyes going white, and he was kind enough to give me a handkerchief and a cup of water. I was thinking of washing it and returning it to him.”

“I see. I thought you might have feelings for that childhood sweetheart, Nagase.”

“Not at all.” Ling’ai bumped her shoulder lightly. “Don’t mix it all up.” Then she caught herself again. “With Nagase it’s not what you’re thinking either — he was just a childhood playmate.”

Yan Qing smiled and stood up. “In a moment I have to go to the Bureau. You won’t be able to come in there — I’ll have Shi Ting arrange for someone to take you home.”

“Alright.” Ling’ai had no desire to keep being a nuisance. Getting to see even a little of a crime scene was more than enough for her.

Before long, the escort Shi Ting had arranged arrived — and it turned out to be Zheng Yun.

Zheng Yun gave a slight nod toward Ling’ai and said, “Miss Ling’ai, please.”

Ling’ai was the most beloved daughter of the Hui community. In his own territory, Shi Ting naturally could not allow anything to happen to her, which was precisely why he had sent Zheng Yun himself to escort her.

Watching the two figures gradually disappear into the distance, Yan Qing wore a thoughtful look.

“What are you staring at?” Someone patted her on the head.

For his habit of endlessly patting and tousling her head, Yan Qing felt a mixture of deep indignation and helplessness.

“I’m watching — aren’t you about to bring about a match?”

“A match?” Shi Ting glanced into the distance and smiled. “Ling’ai is from Di Guo. That might not be appropriate.”

Between Di Guo and Xin Guo, there would inevitably be a bloody conflict.

Yan Qing imitated his manner and rose on her tiptoes to tousle his hair. “Dear husband, have you ever heard the saying: love knows no gender, love knows no borders?”

Shi Ting: “…”

Where did she pick up such peculiar sayings.

“Alright.” Shi Ting smiled indulgently and took her hand. “Come and have a look.”

The burned-out car was nothing but a skeleton. The interior had been reduced to a pile of black ash. Several officers were working with sieves, sifting through the ash in an attempt to find useful evidence.

“Do we know who the car belongs to yet?” Yan Qing asked.

Bai Jin passed over a license plate. Xin Guo license plates were white background with black characters — now the plate was completely black, with half of it having even melted away. Only the last digit was still barely legible: 8.

“This is a Bijié automobile manufactured in the year 201, originally produced in Xin Guo. From what I know, only three vehicles of this model exist in Shun Cheng,” Bai Jin said, reeling off knowledge about automobiles as though reading from a catalogue. “One of the owners had the surname Xu — the car was sold to someone from out of town after he went bankrupt, so it’s no longer in Shun Cheng. Of the remaining two: one belongs to a Mr. Xie Yan — I’ve seen his car before, and the last digit of his plate is 6. The Bijié with the last digit 8 belongs to Xie Jun — a wastrel and layabout.”

Yan Qing blinked and turned to Bai Jin with a look of slight astonishment. The Military Police Bureau really was full of remarkable individuals. Bai Jin’s knowledge of vehicles extended to memorizing their license plate numbers. And this car had been burned down to its bare frame — yet he had somehow identified it.

* * *