As the sun set, the investigators walked through the crime scene towards the police cars, laughing and joking, the somber atmosphere now gone.
Liu Jiaming, holding snacks and a cigarette that hadn’t yet been needed, was also released early.
As he was about to crack a sunflower seed, Fang Zhenyue gave him a stern look, “The case isn’t solved yet, keep it down out here.”
Who knew if any of the onlookers were reporters who might snap a photo and create a headline like “Eating seeds at a crime scene, detective’s attitude questionable,” severely tarnishing their reputation.
Startled by Fang Zhenyue’s glare, Liu Jiaming choked on the seed, coughing for a long time before he managed to spit it out, his face red as he tried to look serious. He stealthily glanced at the gossiping onlookers at the entrance of the alley and silently stuffed the seeds and cigarettes into his pockets, bulging them out.
At the street corner, Yi Jiayi leaned against the police car, waiting for Fang Zhenyue and the others to wrap up the scene so they could return to the station together. As the discoverer of the murder weapon, she too needed to give a statement.
Her water cup was now empty. She crumpled and reshaped it until it was completely deformed, then carried it to the trash bin.
Her eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a skinny figure hunched over at the corner, peeking into the alley.
The figure seemed strangely familiar, and Yi Jiayi paused to take a closer look.
Just then, the man took a deep breath, trying to relax his shoulders to appear more natural, while observing the bystanders and mimicking their poses and expressions.
Finally, as the sun shivered and dipped below the horizon, the surrounding neon lights, unoppressed by the sunlight, flared into vibrant colors.
A loud truck honked twice as it passed by, its sound so overwhelming that it drowned out the engine noise of the rattling, jangling cart.
Suddenly, it became quiet around Yi Jiayi. The truck’s headlights flashed, causing the thin man to squint slightly. His face momentarily overlapped with that of the murderer she had seen in the images at the forensic pathology lab.
She held her breath, her hands crumpling the paper cup, which she then stuffed into her pockets. Standing tall and straight, her eyes widened, she stared at the murderer, not daring to blink.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fang Zhenyue and a few others leisurely walking out of the alley, still several meters from the mouth of the alley.
The skinny man peeked around for a while, and seeing the police beginning to take down the crime scene tape as if to leave, he bowed his head in thought for a few seconds, then turned as if to walk away.
Yi Jiayi’s heart leapt to her throat, frantic as she glanced between Fang Zhenyue and the murderer. Numerous thoughts raced through her mind, all eventually pushed aside by the urgent worry that the murderer might escape. Gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath, she summoned the high notes and explosive power she used when singing “Tibetan Plateau” at KTV, and yelled at the murderer:
“What are you doing?”
Then, she pushed off with her right leg, sprinting towards the murderer like in a 100-meter dash.
Everyone’s attention was captured by her shout, startling the murderer who trembled and, seeing a fierce young woman charging at him, thought he had been caught and turned to run.
But the suddenness of it all caused him to lose his balance as he turned, stumbling and inadvertently allowing the young woman to close in.
Afraid of being caught, he swung a punch back at her.
Yi Jiayi hurriedly dodged, avoiding a blow to the face, but still got hit on the shoulder, staggering backward.
However, perhaps adrenaline driven by fear kept her from feeling the pain. She steadied herself and, as the skinny man looked back at her, quickly feigned drawing a gun from her pocket.
The things she remembered learning at the police academy came into play, her gun-drawing motion was surprisingly standard.
The murderer was terrified and stared, honestly raising his hands. It took him a few seconds to realize she had no gun in her hand.
But this delay cost him the best chance to escape through the streets; other detectives had already caught up.
Fang Zhenyue leapt forward, elbowing the skinny man in the shoulder blade.
The murderer felt the world spinning as he was pinned to the ground, powerless to resist and thus surrendered.
Fang Zhenyue, holding the skinny man down, turned to glance at the crumpled paper cup in Yi Jiayi’s hand with a frown.
Seeing his gaze, the young policewoman quickly straightened up and shoved the crumpled cup back into her pocket.
“What happened?” Fang Sha asked, straightening the trembling skinny man like picking up a chicken, then pressed him against the earthen wall beside him before turning to ask Yi Jiayi.
Yi Jiayi’s adrenaline slowly subsided, and she was left panting from the recent outburst.
She licked her dry lips with her tongue, and pointed firmly at the skinny man, saying:
“I saw him… he looked suspicious! I saw him smiling towards the alley.”
When Skinny was captured by Fang Zhenyue, his shoulder hurt terribly, and his waist felt like it was about to break. Now, with his arms twisted behind him and his face squashed against the wall, he was still terrified, wondering where he had slipped up. Suddenly hearing Yi Jiayi’s words, he lifted his head in disbelief, then realizing what she said, he shouted indignantly:
“I… I didn’t laugh! I didn’t laugh!”
He tried his best to amplify his voice, his tone genuinely aggrieved.
“Why did you run then?” Fang Zhenyue glanced at the collar on Yi Jiayi’s shoulder, which had been knocked askew by the skinny man, and frowned.
He then grabbed the skinny man’s wrists, which were cuffed behind his back, and pressed him even harder against the wall, suppressing any cry that was about to come out.
“Take him back for interrogation, he’s acting suspicious and has assaulted an officer,” Fang Zhenyue handed the skinny man over to Lin Wangjiu, then rubbed his wrists, signaling everyone to regroup.
Yi Jiayi’s heart was still pounding violently, the initial rush of adrenaline subsiding, and only now did she begin to feel the aftereffects.
If that skinny man had a knife in his pocket, for all she knew, she could end up like Zhang Fengyun, lying in the morgue after getting stabbed.
The more she thought about it, the colder she felt, her fingers trembling as she sat in the police car, shrinking into the seat and wrapping her arms around herself.
Her shoulder was burning with pain. As a good student who had always followed the rules, she had never been beaten like this.
Pain, malice, a sense of vulnerability from the punch she received, and the bizarre ability to return to the crime scene… she was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, quietly picking at her fingers.
After Fang Zhenyue got into the car, he looked at the young girl and was about to ask if her shoulder hurt and whether she needed to see a doctor, but he saw her eyes were red and watery, her hands small, white, and pressing on her shoulder, sitting there with her legs together like a little rabbit, leaning against the car wall, looking utterly pitiful.
The skinny man, now handcuffed, was pressed into the car by Lin Wangjiu, mumbling “I didn’t laugh, I didn’t laugh.”
Liu Jiaming, annoyed by his noise, pulled out a sheet of paper from the police logbook in the car, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into the skinny man’s mouth. He then sat in the back row with Lin Wangjiu, sandwiching the skinny man in between.
Other plainclothes detectives and uniformed police officers also boarded the van, filling up the large police vehicle.
As the police car started, Fang Zhenyue suddenly reached out towards Liu Jiaming in the back row.
“?” Liu Jiaming.
“Sugar.” Fang Zhenyue muttered impatiently.
Unexpectedly, Brother Yue wanted candy instead of cigarettes.
Liu Jiaming, puzzled, took a handful of colorful candies from his bulging pocket and stuffed them into Fang Zhenyue’s hand.
As he withdrew his hand, Fang Zhenyue glanced again at Yi Jiayi, who was still sad.
Such a delicate girl, she almost cries over a single punch—did she graduate from the police academy by soaking in a jar of candy?
Though he complained inwardly, he still gently bumped Yi Jiayi’s arm with his fist.
The young policewoman turned her head, looking confused.
“Stretch out your hand,” Fang Zhenyue commanded.
Yi Jiayi extended her palm.
Fang Zhenyue eyed the small red palm and frowned, “Both hands.”
She obediently stretched out both hands in a cupped shape.
Only then did he pour a big handful of candy into her palms.
With one hand, the man filled her cupped hands to the brim with candies.
“Thank you… Officer Fang.” Yi Jiayi, her hands full, could no longer hug herself. She leaned back in the seat, looking at all the candies, suddenly unable to feel pitiful.
She seemed quite wealthy instead.
“Mm.” Fang Zhenyue turned to look out the window. The police car drove through the brightly lit, colorful bustling city, weaving between various vehicles.
Outside the window, the streets were crowded with people in a hurry—a full, bustling, and busy city.
The car quieted down. Some dozed off from fatigue, others were lost in their own thoughts with nothing to say, and some, with their mouths full, couldn’t utter their grievance of “I really, really, really, really didn’t laugh, ah sir…”
Until the buzzing of a mosquito disturbed the peace in the car.
The little insect must have snuck in when the car stopped by the roadside. Now, finding everyone quiet, it sensed its time to shine, buzzing around each person’s ear, seeking the tastiest one.
Lin Wangjiu looked up as the mosquito buzzed by his ear without stopping. His eyes darted around, trying to locate it.
Liu Jiaming fanned himself twice and patted his arm, signaling his refusal to be bitten.
Yi Jiayi neatly packed a bunch of candies into a freshly washed lunch box, then secretly unwrapped a leftover soft candy and popped it into her mouth. Looking up, she saw a mosquito sweep by. Unable to shoo it away in time, she watched as it flew off without any hesitation…
The little mosquito attracted the attention of everyone in the vehicle, buzzing proudly and moving about indecisively among the many options, before finally settling without any hesitation on the forearm of Fang Zhenyue, who was resting it on the armrest.
Liu Jiaming couldn’t help but snicker inappropriately and said, “Haha, Brother Yue is indeed the sweetest.”
“…” Fang Zhenyue, with a stern face.
In this world, there are such people; whenever they are around, mosquitoes won’t bite anyone else.