I asked Officer Chen whether the physical evidence from the earlier cases was still available.
He shook his head. "Long gone. We thought the case was closed. The retention period for the evidence expired, and it was destroyed."
I took out the red dress Huang Xiaotao had purchased and showed it to him. "Does this look familiar?"
He gasped. "That's it! The first victim wore the exact same dress. Where did you get this?"
I explained how we bought it at the tailor shop. Chen frowned. "Zhang Qiang... Zhang Qiang... Oh, right! I remember him now! The first victim was his sister-in-law. He was the one who gave her that dress. But we ruled him out as a suspect."
"And how exactly did you rule him out?" I asked.
"He had a solid alibi. He and his wife were having hotpot that night. We even confirmed it with a restaurant receipt. Besides, he got along really well with his sister-in-law."
"Then show me the evidence from the most recent case."
Officer Chen led me to the evidence room. I compared the latest victim's red dress with the one from Zhang Qiang's shop. They were different—the latest one appeared to be bought online.
"How did you conclude all the murders were committed by the same person?" I asked.
"There were two undisclosed details," Chen explained. "First, the knots used to tie up the victims were identical. Second, they all died from a blunt-force strike to the back of the head."
I flipped through the files again. All four victims had indeed been killed by trauma to the back of the skull. But something about that pattern didn't sit right with me. Unfortunately, with the bodies no longer available, there was only so much I could deduce.
Huang Xiaotao called me over to the lab, where I found her, Zhou, and Sun Bingxin waiting.
Zhou had discovered trace amounts of manganese and fluoride compounds in the victim's bone marrow, but couldn't determine their profession.
I thought for a moment and suddenly said, "They were a mechanic!"
Huang Xiaotao's eyes lit up. "Of course! Song Yang, you're a genius!"
Bingxin blinked in amazement. "How did you guess that so fast, Brother Song?"
I smiled. "Actually, I already suspected it this morning. People doing heavy labor often have spinal compression, but mechanics are the exception—they often work lying down. I asked Zhou for a test just to confirm my theory."
By now, night had fallen, and all the local auto shops were closed. Huang Xiaotao suggested we rest for the night and begin identifying the victim's identity first thing in the morning.
To be honest, the progress felt slow—but considering how old these cases were, there was only so much we could rush.
Director Feng invited us out for dinner again, but Huang Xiaotao politely declined. "Too much meat lately. It's Little New Year today—let's make hotpot ourselves and boost team morale."
Sun Bingxin clapped with excitement. "Yay, hotpot!"
For some reason, girls always seemed to adore hotpot.
Huang Xiaotao sent a group message: "Hotpot tonight. Everyone brings ingredients."
By 8 p.m., we'd started cooking in the hotel. Wang Yuanchao brought an entire crate of alcohol. Huang brought high-end grassland lamb rolls.
The atmosphere was warm and lively. We chatted and laughed around the bubbling pot. But then I noticed someone missing.
Bingxin had sent me a text:
Brother Song, I'm in my room. Can you buy me a pack of Little Angels?😳
I replied, "Give me a minute," and headed downstairs.
It was already past 9 p.m., the county dark and empty. The streets were deserted. I went to the convenience store and bought two packs of sanitary pads—one for day, one for night—plus some brown sugar ginger tea, which helped ease period pain.
I was walking back with the items when I suddenly felt someone behind me.
I turned—and froze.
A woman in a red dress stood behind me. Long hair cascaded down, covering her entire face. She followed silently, like a ghost.
On a pitch-dark street, it was a terrifying sight. My heart skipped a beat. But I was sure—this wasn't a ghost. She was alive.
She met my eyes for a split second, then turned and fled into a narrow alley. Her gait was eerie—gliding more than walking, her steps barely making a sound.
She had to be linked to the murders!
There was no time to alert Huang Xiaotao. I yelled, "Stop right there!" and chased after her.
The alley was pitch-black, but with my Eye of the Abyss, it felt like daylight. The woman moved fast. I pulled up a map app on my phone and saw a side path ahead.
I darted down the side path, planning to intercept her—only to find the alley empty.
Gone.
I stood alone in the eerie silence, a chill creeping down my spine.
I was just about to call Huang Xiaotao when—
Two cold hands suddenly clamped around my throat.
A raspy voice whispered by my ear: "Anyone who gets in my way... must die."
I gasped for air, elbowing behind me hard. I hit something.
I spun around—and saw the woman.
Her long hair flew wildly, revealing a terrifying face—like melted wax. I stared, frozen. Was the legend true?
She lunged.
I swung the bag in my hand into her face. She screamed and recoiled, giving me a burst of courage.
Clutching her face, she turned to flee.
"Stop!" I shouted, chasing her.
Suddenly—blinding light at the corner. I squinted, disoriented.
Then came a whooshing sound.
I instinctively raised my arm—a heavy metal object struck it. Pain exploded. Nearly broke the bone.
Another swing came, aimed at my head.
I heard the whistle of wind—and thought I was done for.
But then—
A sharper sound split the air. A metallic clang.
Footsteps retreated rapidly.
I couldn't see a thing—Eye of the Abyss had a flaw: it went momentarily blind when exposed to sudden bright light in darkness.
But judging by the sounds—someone had just saved me.
A hand gripped mine, pulling me to my feet. Soft, smooth skin—almost thought it was a woman.
Then he spoke—a voice I knew well.
"You're really a handful, Young Master."
I gasped. "You! Why are you here?"
"The real question," he said coolly, "is why you're always in trouble. Go back—guarding you isn't easy."
He turned to leave. I glimpsed the silhouette of a white trench coat.
"Did you see who that was?" I shouted after him.
He didn't look back. "Your job is to solve the case. Mine is to protect you."
"Can't you just answer me?!"
He paused. "They wore masks. Looked like a man and a woman."
Then he disappeared into the night.
I looked down. A broken steel pipe lay on the ground—cleanly sliced in half.
He'd cut through it in one strike.
His combat skills might even surpass Wang Yuanchao's.
Why did he always appear at the most critical moments?
Was he secretly watching me all along?