After receiving the news, Bureau Chief Zhou instructed Tan Mingjiu to take over, leading the Second Division to the location of Chen Jiashu’s death—a villa located in the mountains.
It had rained heavily all night; the mountain roads were passable, but the pedestrian paths were a disaster. When the police officers finally arrived at the scene, caked in mud and water, they found the situation rather complicated.
The man was indeed dead. He lay on a large bed in the villa, covered by a white sheet. Medical instruments and IV equipment were placed by the bedside. The room felt gloomy, as if a dark cloud hung over it, following wherever one walked.
The police proceeded to check the people present at the scene.
Because it was a remote mountain estate, the villa was quite large, and there were over a dozen people there, including chefs, cleaners, and gardeners.
In addition to the staff, there were a few individuals who warranted closer attention:
“A misunderstanding?” Tan Mingjiu repeated to the doctor standing before him.
The moment he saw this doctor, Tan Mingjiu couldn’t help but inwardly marvel: What a pretty boy!
The doctor standing before him was in his early forties. Compared to most middle-aged men who had lost their fitness, he was quite handsome—his black hair was parted 3-7, thick and oily. His physique was well-proportioned; though largely concealed by a loose white coat, his exposed wrists and forearms suggested a frequent gym-goer.
Most importantly, he possessed a fair, scholarly face that women would find very pleasing. Based on his looks alone, he resembled a scholar more than a physician.
“Yes, a misunderstanding,” the doctor said. He had just shown his medical license to the police. The license identified him as Zheng Xuewang. He pointed to the thick medical file of Chen Jiashu that had been handed to Hu Yuan and said, “The patient’s condition had been poor ever since his kidney transplant, with recurrent episodes of acute rejection. Acute rejection is very dangerous. In the current situation, while no one wanted this, it is not entirely surprising.”
Tan Mingjiu understood: “You mean to say he died of natural causes.”
“To be precise, he died due to illness.”
“If his condition was so serious, why wasn’t he hospitalized?”
“Hospitalization cannot solve every problem…”
Tan Mingjiu’s suspicious gaze pierced Zheng Xuewang.
The middle-aged doctor couldn’t help but avoid Tan Mingjiu’s sharp look, staring instead at the equipment by the bedside. “The definition of life is to be able to move and breathe. In that regard, even with brain death, the body is still alive. But the definition of ‘living’ goes beyond that. I believe the patient had a very clear train of thought. He wanted to live, but he wanted to live with quality. That is why he purchased this equipment and converted the estate into a convalescent retreat… to obtain a more comfortable and dignified life.”
That’s a load of horseshit.
The prerequisite for “living” is “survival.” A wealthy, powerful, able-bodied young man waiting to die in a retreat because of “quality of life” instead of seeking treatment?
“Regardless, hospital medical resources are surely better than what’s here.”
“That goes without saying.”
“Since the deceased had such a critical condition as acute rejection, didn’t you urge him to stay in the hospital for observation?”
“Mr. Chen was a man with a very strong will,” Zheng Xuewang replied tactfully. “A doctor can only exert a little influence based on professional knowledge; one cannot override a patient’s personal will.”
Behind him came the sound of plastic gloves being snapped off.
Tan Mingjiu turned back to see Hu Yuan finishing her preliminary examination of the body.
“How is it?” he asked.
“No external injuries. From the surface, there are no signs of poisoning. The data records in the medical files are very detailed. Based on the logs from the equipment before his death and the nurse’s account, it matches the profile of acute rejection.”
Hu Yuan pointed to records in the notebook noting “decreased urine output, high proteinuria, and skyrocketing blood creatinine.”
“Is it really fine?” Tan Mingjiu muttered.
“On the surface, there’s no problem,” Hu Yuan repeated her earlier answer. “If you want more detailed information, I suggest an autopsy.”
“No autopsy!”
Before Tan Mingjiu could speak, a woman’s voice rejected the idea from within the room.
Following the sound, Tan Mingjiu saw the elderly woman sitting by Chen Jiashu’s body.
She was Chen Jiashu’s mother, surnamed Sun. Everyone in the villa called her Mrs. Sun.
She must have been sixty or seventy years old. Chen Jiashu was forty-eight this year; his mother couldn’t possibly be young.
A woman’s beauty inevitably fades with time, but in exchange, her temperament, like a polished gemstone, had begun to shine through the years.
“My son suffered from illness and passed away while still young. It is already a great misfortune…” Mrs. Sun paused for a moment, her tone hiding a resolve that didn’t match her appearance. “I will not let him be carved up after death, nor will I let him be poked and prodded by strangers!”
Before Mrs. Sun spoke, the doctor was Tan Mingjiu’s prime suspect. After she spoke, she became a question mark in his mind as well.
In general, when the police suspect foul play and want an autopsy, families rarely refuse. Once a family refuses, the police are forced to wonder if there is some hidden secret.
But… no way, he thought. A mother killing her son, the pillar of the family—what for?
Tan Mingjiu mused internally, his gaze sweeping the room and settling on Chen Jiashu’s face. That face, which even the sunlight from the window couldn’t brighten, looked unnervingly eerie…
He glanced at Hu Yuan again. She shook her head slightly, meaning the illness was real and death by acute rejection was highly probable… To be certain, an autopsy was required. If the family refused, the police could force it.
But if the autopsy confirmed he died of rejection…
Tan Mingjiu went outside to call Bureau Chief Zhou. He recounted the situation and suggested a forced autopsy. After a brief silence, Bureau Chief Zhou did not agree.
“That batch of goods at the port just had a breakthrough, and now this man is dead. He died in a way that makes one’s head spin. Do not act rashly for the time being. If you move too early, all our previous manpower and resources will be wasted. Keep the leads, you don’t have to perform an autopsy for now, but the scene must remain exactly as it is.”
Bureau Chief Zhou’s instructions were clear. When Tan Mingjiu returned to the room, he didn’t bring up the autopsy again, only saying: “Since there’s no problem, why did you call the police?”
“The young girl is new, doesn’t know much, and got scared,” Zheng Xuewang answered, his response flawless.
Tan Mingjiu glanced outside. The one who reported the incident was a nurse named Xiaofei. She was sitting on a chair outside the door crying. Beside her, a man was peeking at her from the staircase, looking very concerned…
He took note of the nurse who called the police, intending to question her privately later to see if he could find any clues. Meanwhile, he directed his gaze at the man watching the nurse.
“Who is that?” Tan Mingjiu asked Zheng Xuewang.
Zheng Xuewang looked back: “Oh, Li Feng, the manager of this estate.”
“There’s surveillance here, right?” Tan Mingjiu asked.
“There is, but… I believe only the entrances, exits, and the study have cameras,” Zheng Xuewang said, unsure of the details.
“Take us to the surveillance room.”
“The villa’s traffic is complicated, and it’s a huge estate—there are tons of blind spots…” Zheng Xuewang started to explain, but seeing Tan Mingjiu’s stern gaze, he shrugged and said, “This isn’t my area of expertise; you’ll have to find Li Feng.”
The doctor seemed to be growing more composed, as if there was truly no issue and the police were just being paranoid… or perhaps he was becoming skilled at lying, having found the knack for it.
Tan Mingjiu rubbed his bald head and pressed on his dark circles.
The suspects were too cunning. He suddenly began to miss Ji Xun and Captain Huo. If those two were here, they would have already spotted so many details!
As the old saying goes, longing has power. That night, after Tan Mingjiu and his team stared at the surveillance monitors for six hours, then spent another four hours phoning everyone who appeared in the footage to confirm their identities, they finally managed to circle two highly suspicious individuals.
And at that moment, the phantoms of his longing manifested into reality—Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin appeared right before him in the Second Division’s office!
Along with them, a table full of snacks appeared.
Huo Ranyin, absent for a while, was as capable as ever. He looked in a good mood, his expression relatively relaxed. “I brought you something to eat. You’ve all worked hard during this time. I’ll be back from leave the day after tomorrow.”
This was the best news Tan Mingjiu had heard in a long time.
He let out a howl and dove toward the pile of snacks, tearing open a loaf of bread and stuffing it into his mouth, mumbling: “Captain Huo, I’ve been waiting for you like the stars waiting for the moon! Without you, we have no guiding light; without you, we have no motivation to move forward!”
Huo Ranyin raised an eyebrow.
Wen Yangyang couldn’t help but comment: “That’s a bit much.”
“Not at all,” Tan Mingjiu said righteously. “Only under Captain Huo’s brilliant leadership can we use our sharp eyes to see through criminals’ lies and use our iron fists to shatter their resistance!”
“Run into a difficult problem?” Huo Ranyin distilled the point.
“It was certainly difficult… but there’s already a lead.” Tan Mingjiu said proudly, “Although there were some small issues, we’ve identified the key figures.”
“By ‘small issues,’ you mean?” Ji Xun interjected. He was sitting in Tan Mingjiu’s chair, cradling a pot of roses Tan Mingjiu had been growing, leisurely pruning its leaves.
This leisure made Tan Mingjiu secretly jealous.
“Chen Jiashu is dead.”
Ji Xun felt the name was familiar.
Huo Ranyin reacted a step faster: “Chen Jiahe’s older brother.”
“Oh,” Ji Xun realized, “That kidnapper.”
Chen Jiashu wasn’t just Chen Jiahe’s brother; he was tied to much more. But when they were investigating those matters, Huo Ranyin and Ji Xun had been handling a case in Qin City and weren’t aware.
Tan Mingjiu didn’t gossip much; he knew these things would be handed over to Captain Huo the day after tomorrow. He simply recounted the circumstances of Chen Jiashu’s death. When he mentioned that he had died of acute rejection following a kidney transplant, Ji Xun’s brow furrowed.
Kidney…
Organ transplant, such a coincidence?
Right, Meng Fushan had suddenly appeared and rescued Chen Jiahe before…
Could Meng Fushan be related to Chen Jiashu?
“Too suspicious…” Ji Xun whispered.
“Exactly, it’s too suspicious,” Tan Mingjiu nodded. “Luckily, the front and back gates of the villa had surveillance. We spent all day checking it, cross-referencing everyone who appeared, and found two suspicious people. One is Cao Zhengbin, Chen Jiashu’s personal bodyguard, who hasn’t been seen since Chen Jiashu’s death—very suspicious. The other is Meng Zhonghai, who also often appeared by Chen Jiashu’s side, but we can’t get in touch with him now either. Besides them, there’s a doctor named Zheng Xuewang… and maybe it’s just my imagination, but I find Chen Jiashu’s death suspicious, and Mrs. Sun’s refusal of an autopsy is also suspicious…”
When police chat, they usually get into the habit of sending documents.
Ji Xun saw the surveillance screenshots Tan Mingjiu sent over.
His heart sank heavily.
The man appearing in the surveillance footage as Meng Zhonghai was none other than Meng Fushan!
