“Xi Ming loves to eat; he’s a young man full of zest for life.”
“Whenever he hears of something delicious somewhere, he would go the distance just to try it.”
“All his money, except what he spends on his mother’s medical treatment, goes on food.”
Uncle Jiu sat on the hard wooden bed, gazing down at his toes, trying to dredge up more long-forgotten memories about that person from his already rusty brain:
“He always walked in a carefree manner, in alleyways over two meters wide, even though he walked right through the middle, he would often sway and scrape against the earthen walls, brushing off some dust onto his shoulder.”
“He liked to share food with everyone and was fond of boasting. Whatever he saw today or experienced yesterday, ordinary events became impressive evidence of his prowess when recounted by him.”
“Even if these stories didn’t prove his strength, they always made him appear talkative.”
“He was capable of making others listen intently to him speak, which was quite impressive on its own.”
“Everyone found his stories entertaining and often got to enjoy tasty snacks from him; nobody disliked him.”
“…His mother scolded him daily for not pursuing a proper career, but he didn’t mind and would still cuddle up to his mother, clamoring to eat this or that. Later, when his mother could no longer cook, he would shout about his cravings while buying food to bring home. His mother was harsh with her words but actually adored her son. As her illness worsened, she couldn’t be as harsh and often cried, feeling that she was a burden to her son.”
“Xi Ming would then lie to his mother, claiming he was on the right path and aspiring to become a small business owner. He even dragged me along once to act in his charade to prove his ambition…”
Jiayi squatted at the door, taking notes, trying to overlay Uncle Jiu’s vivid description of the young man with the lifeless middle-aged man lying on the autopsy table.
But it was difficult.
The once vibrant Xi Ming had turned into a reclusive, day-shunning grey rat.
He spent his days sleeping at home, his nights watching reruns on a small 15cm by 15cm color TV in the watchtower, or listening to a 10cm by 5cm box narrate stories, tell tales, and broadcast news. Even his movements were just solitary walks around the decades-old community of Baishana, no longer gregarious or appealing.
Wondering about his nocturnal, imprisoned life, he might look up at the moon and regret his past choices…
Uncle Jiu said a lot more, a jumble of ramblings, whether to aid the detective colleagues in solving cases or merely reminiscing about the past.
Jiayi’s notebook was filled with many details described by Uncle Jiu about Xi Ming, along with other information collected yesterday: Xi Ming’s shoe size, height, arm length, leg length, his current routine, lifestyle structure, and so on.
After the conversation, Jiayi stood up, glanced around to see no one else was near, then approached the iron bars, gripping two bars, she whispered to Uncle Jiu:
“Uncle Jiu, you can go home tonight, just hang in there a bit longer. What would you like for lunch? I’ll order it for you.”
Uncle Jiu finally snapped out of his reverie, pausing for a moment before breaking into a smile. Although the smile bore a hint of bitterness, his eyes still sparkled when he looked over.
“Do you believe I didn’t push him?” he said, raising his hands. Lying on the iron bed last night, he even began to doubt himself—had he really not pushed Xi Ming?
In his imagination, he had pushed Xi Ming down the stairs countless times, fiercely hitting Xi Ming’s face…
Had he really refrained from turning those actions into reality?
He seemed not quite sure anymore.
“I believe you, Uncle Jiu,” Jiayi said with intense eyes.
“Maybe this is just a hurdle destined in my life. Even if I did push him, it doesn’t matter. Think of it as settling a worry,” Uncle Jiu’s gaze drifted again.
Back then, due to his trust in Xi Ming, when the long-prepared mission failed completely… he had told himself that he must find Xi Ming.
Even if it meant killing Xi Ming with his own hands, staining his hands with blood.
That mission, how many people had invested so much effort, paid so much, and lost so much… Only the brothers involved in the mission knew, everyone fought side by side, but ended in utter failure.
His best partner almost lost his life and could only spend the rest of his days in the Kwai Chung police kitchen, his life bound to pots and pans, unable to return to the front lines…
Uncle Jiu looked at his own hands and thought to himself that even if he had pushed him, it was nothing serious.
It didn’t matter that nobody believed him.
When his friends from the kitchen department visited, he could still smile and say, “I avenged you, I avenged everyone.”
Suddenly, Jiayi raised her voice, interrupting Lin Wang Jiu’s reverie:
“Uncle Jiu, I have paid my respects to Guan Gong. Last night, he appeared in my dream and told me you are innocent, that you didn’t push Xi Ming.”
Uncle Jiu raised his head and looked at Jiayi, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
What? Guan Gong appeared in a dream?
“Guan Gong told me that you have taken good care of the temple offerings in the past, so he will make sure you are safe,” Jiayi said, gripping the iron bar and looking through the bars again, “Uncle Jiu, what do you want to eat for lunch? I’ll order it for you.”
Indeed, he’s a stubborn young girl, Uncle Jiu suddenly laughed.
“The roast goose from the deep well in the alley behind Yi Ji,” he said.
I always said that eleven is mystical, really… Could there really be such a dream? Are you tricking him? Just like tricking those murderers.
…
…
After gathering evidence with Uncle Jiu, Jiayi called her elder brother, asking him to have Sun Xin help buy the roast goose from the well-known old brand in the alley behind Yi Ji for lunch, and bring a few side dishes to boost Uncle Jiu’s morale.
Then she went to the archive room to retrieve the criminal records of three eyewitnesses.
Sure enough, among them, two had past criminal records, including Zhao Zhicheng, who had accused Uncle Jiu of pushing someone. Although all were minor thefts, Zhao Zhicheng was described in the case files as a rebellious individual who never admits his mistakes or accepts defeat.
In a case of arson that caused no casualties but resulted in damage to public property, Zhao Zhicheng had even shouted insults at the police, showing extreme dissatisfaction with law enforcement.
Jiayi spoke with the senior clerk in the archive room, applied to take these files, copied them one by one, marked the file numbers, and then returned the originals to the archive room.
With these archives, we can at least prove that Zhao Zhicheng has a natural animosity towards Uncle Jiu’s ‘detective’ identity. Zhao Zhicheng’s background also diminishes the credibility of his testimony.
If Uncle Jiu really goes to court, it could at least discount the most damaging testimony provided by Zhao Zhicheng against him.
Armed with newly collected materials and documents, Jiayi rushed back to Team B’s office where Fang Zhenyue was gathering everyone for a case summary meeting.
Jiayi quickly pulled up a chair to sit on the side, unfolded the notebook she carried with her, and sat upright ready for the meeting.
Fang Zhenyue scanned the room and first called Liu Jiaming’s name.
“From the analysis of Xi Ming’s stomach contents, it is evident he had recently been to Sham Shui Po to eat the well-known Sham Tseng roast goose,” Liu Jiaming immediately began reporting the forensic extraction analysis from this morning.
The investigators frowned, wondering if Xi Ming had come to Sham Shui Po just for this delicacy.
A man who, in the eyes of his wife, had always stayed in the Baishana community, had he always been secretly indulging?
After all, one can never completely abandon their desires; no matter how much one hides their identity, the stomach is still your stomach. A craving at a young age could turn into a lifelong yearning.
“The Sham Tseng roast goose is located near the start of the chase mentioned in Uncle Jiu’s testimony, which corroborates part of his statement,” Fang Zhenyue nodded, signaling Liu Jiaming to continue.
“Grey-white to yellow-brown infarct lesions were found in the deceased’s heart, indicating myocardial infarction. It’s very likely that the sudden death was triggered by emotional distress or vigorous activity,” Liu Jiaming looked up at Fang Zhenyue before adding, “However, we can’t rule out that a fall caused it.”
“Mm,” Fang Zhenyue nodded.
“All the external injuries on the deceased were inflicted before death, meaning he fell down the stairs and died after hitting the ground.”
“There are two possibilities: one is that the symptoms of coronary heart disease occurred, leading to the fall and sudden death during the fall, as this all happened very quickly, so the injuries from the fall still show pre-death symptoms.”
“The second possibility is that he was pushed down the stairs, and the fall triggered a cardiac event, causing sudden death upon hitting the ground. Therefore, all external injuries were pre-mortem.”
Liu Jiaming let out a weary sigh, indicating that although the forensic examination and analysis provided many details, none conclusively proved Uncle Jiu’s innocence.
Everyone fell silent, and Fang Zhenyue tried to remain rational and calm, not to be swayed by emotions, and then nodded for Gary to report on the new lab results provided by Brother Da Guangming from the forensic department.
One by one, the reports continued until Jiayi finished presenting her research on Zhao Zhicheng’s background. Fang Zhenyue rubbed his temples, swept his gaze over all the investigators, and said solemnly:
“Who will summarize?”
Everyone looked at each other, no one spoke.
It was clear that Brother Yue wanted to cultivate everyone’s ability to lead and advance the case, but Liu Jiaming and Gary were still processing the information, not yet having formulated a clear logical chain in their minds.
Sanfu, more experienced, had already marked the main points while listening to everyone’s reports. However, when asked to summarize and concurrently identify the direction for future work, he felt somewhat unconfident.
Thus, everyone turned their attention to Eleven, who had demonstrated exceptional skills in this aspect during the last case.
Jiayi looked down at her notes on her notebook, and when she looked up decisively raised her right hand, “I’ll do it, Brother Yue.”
“Okay.” Fang Zhenyue crossed his arms and took a step back, handing the marker to Jiayi and then positioned himself against the office door frame, waiting for Jiayi’s performance.
Sanfu inhaled deeply and then raised his head, sitting up straight in anticipation of Jiayi’s forthcoming summary.
Everyone expected her to emulate Fang Zhenyue’s method of stripping away the irrelevant information from the complex reports, highlighting the key points on the whiteboard for discussion.
They thought they would collectively draft an outline, followed by a brief description by the meeting leader and issuing instructions.
However, Jiayi’s working style, although based on Fang Zhenyue, as a modern learner, she possessed more systematic and professional skills in summarizing, categorizing, setting objectives, and methods, immediately evident by her distinctive approach.
Everyone noticed a difference from Brother Yue’s usual style; this unexpected method raised eyebrows and sparked more curiosity.
People often initially resist something different. But as they gradually perceive the positive impact of this ‘different thing’, they develop polarized feelings: awe and respect.
Although Team B detectives did not react strongly, the impression Jiayi made on them gradually shifted from doubt and curiosity to being perceived as mysterious and significant.
Under everyone’s gaze, Jiayi picked up the eraser, wiped off the previous writings by Brother Yue, and began to record anew on one side of the board, clearing a larger space. She marked “Level One” at the top left and “Level Two” at the top right.
Fang Zhenyue squinted his eyes, thinking that he would likely be promoted by the end of the year, or leave by early next year, so he planned to train everyone’s independence in handling cases more vigorously.
He hoped that if he left, Jiayi could fully shoulder all responsibilities, effectively manage team detectives, be well-acquainted with colleagues from other departments, and have a grasp of the basic case progression model… that would be great.
But obviously, the young policewoman didn’t just want to manage; she aimed to do better, more effortlessly, and even planned to surprise him quite a bit.
Fang Zhenyue was already curious about what Jiayi meant by these two levels and how she would categorize them. He was even more curious about the surprises she might reveal in the time to come.
Thanks fot cupdate 🪿