Huaiyi Residential Complex was an upscale neighborhood in Ning City, consisting entirely of villas. The murder occurred in Villa 7. When Ji Xun arrived, personnel from the Second Detachment were already there.
Huo Ranyin was standing in the most visible location and immediately spotted him.
Ji Xun walked over to Huo Ranyin, but his movements were slow and reluctant; he seemed unwilling to go inside.
Huo Ranyin: “What’s wrong?”
“Obviously, there’s the smell of blood.” Ji Xun fumbled in his pockets, searching for a tissue. Unfortunately, he had left in a hurry today. He searched all his pockets but couldn’t find the item that should have been there.
“Could a crime scene not have the smell of blood?” Huo Ranyin was often left speechless by Ji Xun. He then reached into his own pocket, pulled out a tissue, shook it open, and handed it to Ji Xun.
A normal person would say “thank you” at this point.
Ji Xun was not normal; he was a person who took an inch and wanted a mile. He accepted the tissue, held it to his nose, and then naturally held out his hand to Huo Ranyin: “Candy.”
“…Why do you think I would have candy?” Huo Ranyin countered.
“Because I’m standing next to you,” Ji Xun replied.
“I don’t have any,” Huo Ranyin said coldly.
“I’ll be very disappointed,” Ji Xun said, looking at Huo Ranyin with an expression of mild reproach.
Huo Ranyin remained unmoved.
“Should I cry for you?” Ji Xun thought for a moment and then added. He held the tissue over half his face, leaving only a pair of eyes that darted back and forth over Huo Ranyin’s face.
It felt as if a feather was lightly brushing his face, back and forth.
Huo Ranyin held out for a little while, then compromised.
He turned and walked toward Wen Yangyang and Tan Mingjiu. When Ji Xun had first arrived, Tan Mingjiu was talking around Wen Yangyang, who, annoyed, had pulled out a candy and shoved it into Tan Mingjiu’s mouth—Wen Yangyang did have candy.
He figured Ji Xun must have noticed that scene.
But this time, the other man seemed selectively blind, demanding candy only from him.
He walked up to Wen Yangyang and held out his hand. Wen Yangyang, almost startled, surrendered her candy immediately—a whole bag of various fruit-flavored hard candies.
Huo Ranyin grabbed four or five and returned to Ji Xun.
“Here.”
“Thank you.” Ji Xun was generous now. He lowered the tissue, revealing a smiling face, and opened his mouth to Huo Ranyin, “Come on, guide me through the scene. Please take good care of my physical and mental well-being~”
“…”
Huo Ranyin again suspected that Ji Xun had actually seen the exchange between Wen Yangyang and Tan Mingjiu. He chose a pineapple-flavored one, peeled the wrapper, and popped it into the other man’s mouth.
Only then did Ji Xun finally agree to follow Huo Ranyin inside the villa.
They entered the living room and immediately saw a messy and bloody scene:
All the furniture that should have been neatly arranged was piled in a corner of the living room. In the huge empty space, a bloody sun was emblazoned on the white marble floor of the living room.
The sun resembled an abstract painting. Aside from a massive circle in the center, the surrounding rays of light had been painted as snakes. One by one, the snakes twisted and coiled, encircling this huge source. Mixed within these twisted, long snakes were weapons such as knives, forks, and halberds. The sight was eerie enough to make one’s scalp crawl at a single glance.
Forensic personnel were photographing the bloody sun. Huo Ranyin stood to the side, arms crossed.
Ji Xun: “Painted by Mo Nai?”
Huo Ranyin: “Yes.”
Ji Xun commented: “A bit of performance art.”
Huo Ranyin began a brief introduction to the case: “The blood tests confirmed a mixture of the couple’s blood. Based on the amount of blood at the scene, survival for either is impossible, but the bodies haven’t been found. The husband was likely killed on the sofa downstairs in the living room; there’s blood residue on it. The basin next to it was used to catch the blood. These things can still be determined through trace evidence. As for the wife, we can only tell so far that she was bled out in the living room. The crime scene was discovered this morning at nine by the cleaning lady. According to her, the wife went traveling a few days ago, and the husband instructed her to clean every other day, so she didn’t come yesterday.”
“Zhuo Cangying, male, 40, Chief Physician in Oncology at Ning City Health Hospital. Gao Shuang, female, 38, full-time housewife. The couple has a six-year-old son who just started elementary school. Fortunately, the son was staying with his grandparents while the wife traveled and escaped harm. According to Gao Shuang’s parents, the daughter called them yesterday at 1 PM to discuss when to pick up the child. So, she was still alive then.”
“As for Zhuo Cangying, he was off work for the holiday and not on hospital duty. We haven’t found any witnesses who contacted him yesterday yet.”
“Cash and valuable jewelry are missing. Gao Shuang’s and Zhuo Cangying’s phones are also gone.”
Ji Xun listened, thought for a moment, and asked: “Then where did you find Mo Nai’s fingerprints?”
“Residue was found on the basin and the cloth used for painting.”
“That’s very strange then—”
Huo Ranyin nodded, offering his deduction: “He’s a convicted felon; his fingerprints and DNA are in the database. Leaving fingerprints is tantamount to explicitly telling the police he was involved. In this situation, taking the bodies away to dispose of them elsewhere seems a bit redundant.”
Wen Yangyang, holding a file, carefully avoided the bloody sun in the living room and quietly approached Ji Xun, whispering: “Teacher Ji, is this what you wrote about in your novel? A perverted killer with a collection fetish who takes the bodies to make specimens, making them trophies of their killings?”
Ji Xun was aghast: “I didn’t write anything like that—?!”
Wen Yangyang: “You did! In The Immortal Crane, the animal rights extremist killer turns the seven poachers he murdered into human specimens, hiding them among large wood carvings. You wrote that the killer meticulously sliced the posterior cervical arteries, drained the blood, removed the organs, defatted the bodies, and finally replaced the eyeballs with brown chalcedony. He lovingly stroked the bodies, as if stroking the eternal crane in his heart—Teacher Ji, that’s the quote on the back cover of your book.”
Huo Ranyin scoffed: “Killing someone and spending that much money on it—typical fiction writer talk.”
Ji Xun was deeply embarrassed. Having his trashy, commercial novel cited in this context damaged his intellectual aura. He abruptly changed the subject: “Mo Nai doesn’t have the resources to make specimens. Where is a fugitive going to find formalin? Let’s continue examining the scene.”
He fled the first floor and walked up to the second floor.
The second floor was very clean, with no bloodstains or signs of struggle, except for the walk-in closet, which was a bit messy from jewelry being taken.
Zhuo Cangying’s income was substantial. He and Gao Shuang lived in a villa, and the decor was naturally excellent. Furthermore, it was quite modern, utilizing smart home technology where a single app could control all appliances, windows, etc., which was very convenient.
“Why didn’t you rent a house like this? You spent so much money anyway. Wouldn’t it be nice to come home and have a pre-set hot shower?” Ji Xun asked Huo Ranyin, who followed him.
Huo Ranyin countered: “Then why didn’t you, who needs everything handed to you, decorate your place like this?”
Ji Xun pouted: “The updates are too fast! I didn’t know about such amazing gadgets back then. I only bought a dryer after it was recommended to me when I was researching for my writing, and now I can’t live without it—the dryer has another wonderful use: if you take someone home for a one-night stand, you throw the clothes they took off into it…”
He deliberately looked back and, finding no one else around him and Huo Ranyin, continued flirting:
“The next morning, from head to toe, they emerge as a respectable person smelling of sunshine and soap.”
“Experienced,” Huo Ranyin sneered. “Why didn’t you put my clothes in the dryer when you took me home before?”
“…”
Ji Xun cleared his throat, thinking, wasn’t that the first time anyone came over? How could I remember that detail right away?
They spoke as they entered the villa’s master bedroom. The bedsheets and duvet were neatly made. Only one side of the bedside table had items on it, such as a humidifier, an alarm clock, a notepad, and photos of the child. The other side was empty. Ji Xun opened the closet and told Huo Ranyin: “Only Gao Shuang’s clothes. This couple, not yet 40, was sleeping in separate rooms, and Gao Shuang wasn’t sleeping with the child either. Their marital relationship seems very strained.”
Huo Ranyin disagreed with Ji Xun’s arbitrary conclusion: “You and your partner will be sleeping in separate rooms before you hit 30. Please consider other factors.”
Ji Xun: “…”
All his deductions were failures today.
He struggled to save face: “Well, according to novel logic, love will cure my insomnia. I believe I won’t do something as emotionally inept as sleeping in separate rooms.”
“Then, when you’re struggling with insomnia, why don’t you follow your own advice and start a relationship?” Huo Ranyin slowly asked. “Since you haven’t done so, it means you don’t believe in that idea.”
“I hadn’t thought of it. It’s not too late to start now.”
Ji Xun thought Huo Ranyin would ask, “With whom?” It would have been a natural continuation of the conversation, and he even had an answer ready.
But Huo Ranyin suddenly fell silent and didn’t ask further.
This, conversely, piqued Ji Xun’s curiosity: “Why aren’t you asking who I want to date?”
Huo Ranyin merely gave a cold laugh.
No need to ask.
Why would I ask who a person who can’t even sleep next to me wants to date?
Since Huo Ranyin wasn’t answering, Ji Xun had to continue examining the scene. The largest area in the bedroom was naturally the bed. He pulled a pair of gloves from Huo Ranyin’s pocket, put them on, bent down, and lifted the duvet.
“Hmm—”
“Blue striped duvet cover and a galaxy-patterned sheet?” Huo Ranyin murmured. “Although they’re in the same color scheme, they don’t look like a set.”
“While some people don’t care about a complete four-piece set and often mix them, I believe that people living in a villa like this…” Ji Xun looked up at the bedroom chandelier. If he wasn’t mistaken, the chandelier was designed by an imported artist. “…wouldn’t commit such a careless blunder. Could the sheet have been taken by Mo Nai?”
“Why would he take the sheet?” Huo Ranyin countered.
“To wrap the bodies or something?” Ji Xun speculated.
“Even if it was to wrap the bodies,” Huo Ranyin found the guess somewhat reasonable but noted a flaw, “Why put a new sheet on the bed? The living room is so messy; why bother making the bed neatly?”
This question was indeed confusing.
Ji Xun shrugged and didn’t ask again. He walked around the room once more, ensured nothing was missed, and then returned downstairs.
Downstairs, he saw Wen Yangyang and Tan Mingjiu standing by a side table right next to the sofa armrest. Next to them were the cleaning lady who reported the crime and Hu Yuan, who was performing some trace evidence work despite the lack of bodies.
He walked over and heard Hu Yuan say: “So, you believe the attacker used that horse as the murder weapon to fatally strike the deceased.”
“What kind of horse?” Ji Xun interjected.
“It was a bronze horse, a little smaller than a laptop, about two hands wide side-by-side. It was blue and quite pretty, and had some weight to it,” the cleaning lady said, gesturing. “I remember clearly; I wiped it just the day before yesterday. It was on the coffee table. I didn’t see it when I watched you officers sort through the piles of furniture over there.”
Perhaps because there were no bodies, and looking at the bloody sun for too long had diluted its horror, the previously startled and anxious cleaning lady had calmed down and started actively helping with the investigation.
“The husband died on the sofa,” Ji Xun said, walking to the side table. At the empty spot on the side table, he mimed grabbing an object and stood next to the sofa armrest, leaning over and smashing down—
“Hmm, it feels quite natural, but the sofa is a bit low, making it hard to exert force,” Ji Xun said.
“Mo Nai isn’t very tall,” Huo Ranyin added.
“He wasn’t completely flat when he was struck,” Hu Yuan shook her head, pointing to the bloodstains. “Judging from the blood splatter, his body was slightly raised when he was hit, so the center of projection is here.”
Hu Yuan’s hand landed on the middle-height of the sofa. After a moment, she signaled her colleague: “There seems to be blue glitter residue here. It might be paint from the bronze horse. Come and collect it.”
The transparent evidence bag was quickly filled and handed to the cleaning lady. She took one look and nodded repeatedly: “This is it, this is it. That bronze horse had a very unique color. I couldn’t be mistaken.”
Ji Xun raised an eyebrow at Hu Yuan: “Quick work.”
Hu Yuan’s smile was faint: “It’s my job.”
“So, the husband was likely already awake when he was struck, but he didn’t have time to react before being killed. And the wife…” Ji Xun pondered the sheet again, saying with some hesitation, “…she might have been killed upstairs. The sheet had some kind of mark. But the sheet wasn’t necessarily taken by Mo Nai… Are there other people’s fingerprints at the scene?”
Hu Yuan sighed: “This is a reception hall. It’s perfectly normal to have other people’s fingerprints remaining.”
The cleaning lady interjected with some annoyance: “I clean very thoroughly. I wipe all these corners and edges.”
Ji Xun chuckled: “Take the auntie’s word for it. Check the ownership of all residual physical evidence, just in case.”
Tan Mingjiu gasped: “Ji Xun, you’re even starting to issue orders as a temporary replacement! Why don’t you just take the civil service exam again and come back as our Deputy Captain?”
However, Huo Ranyin made a simple gesture from the side, and Tan Mingjiu could only accept his fate tearfully.
Speaking of which, Ji Xun asked again: “He couldn’t have transported all this without a vehicle. What did he use for transportation?”
Huo Ranyin: “A sports car is missing from the garage.”
The cleaning lady added: “An Alfa Romeo 4C!”
The two looked at the cleaning lady, surprised that she knew the exact name of the sports car.
“Our Madam is the type who loves to show off. Anything she gets, she broadcasts to everyone within a day. She said she bought this car because she wanted a Romeo-style romantic lover. Sigh, a person nearly forty, still acting crazy,” the cleaning lady pouted. “I don’t know what our Mister saw in her.”
This cleaning lady had reportedly worked for the family for three years.
As she hadn’t been replaced in three years, her routine work must have been professional. But now that the lady and master of the house were dead, some unspoken thoughts involuntarily came out.
The cleaning lady was actually hired by Gao Shuang.
But people, whether they are cleaning ladies or strangers, often look down on rich housewives who don’t work.
Ji Xun wandered to the window, looking at the open floor-to-ceiling windows and the courtyard plants that shielded the interior from outside view.
The situation at the scene was relatively clear, and the direction for further investigation was set.
But he still felt a vague sense of confusion…
Did Mo Nai go through all that trouble to escape just to commit murder?
He only has eleven months left on his sentence. From his perspective, why wouldn’t he just wait patiently until his sentence was over, be released safely, and then seize an opportunity to commit the crime? The latter option clearly has a higher safety rating and less risk, right?
This was a forest.
The once-beautiful Alfa Romeo 4C was now scarred and dust-covered from being scraped by branches and crushed by stones. Its glory was gone, and the broken paint exposed the raw, ugly, and dirty steel plating underneath.
Mo Nai got out of the driver’s seat. He opened the rear compartment, dragged out the two bodies stuffed inside, one horizontally and one vertically. The dead weigh significantly more than the living.
Just pulling the bodies out of the trunk left him breathless.
The heavy corpses, like heavy sacks, thumped onto the ground. The striped sheet wrapping them came undone, and one hand of a corpse slapped Mo Nai’s ankle with a thwack.
It was a voluptuous hand.
A hand still wearing a bracelet that looked very valuable.
This hand was originally fair and soft, but now, it had turned bluish-gray and stiff.
She was dead.
Mo Nai sighed and stroked the hand.
She’s dead.
His expression was somewhat sad, then gradually turned mad. He returned to the car and retrieved the items he had gathered from the villa from the passenger seat. There were knives—knives for cutting meat and bone—and oil—oil to aid combustion.
He returned to the two bodies.
Holding the knife, he squatted down and forcefully plunged the knife into the corpse, violently slicing open the chest and abdomen.
This step was not easy to complete. The chest and abdomen contained layers of ribs that blocked his knife’s path. He couldn’t break through from the top, so he started from the belly. From the bottom up, he tore open the abdominal cavity and pulled out the internal organs…
So tired.
He sighed again, tossed the knife aside, and sat beside the corpses to rest for a while.
After resting, he saw the corpses’ eyes. The turbid vitreous humor stared back at him.
He placed his hand over those dull, lifeless eyes.
They were more vibrant when she was alive.
He thought, then his fingers reached in and gouged out the pair of eyes.
