Chapter 10 – The World of the Living

Du Xue’s remains and the collected evidence had been transported back to the bureau for examination. It wasn’t until the following morning that the results of the preliminary investigation were finalized.

Pei Yu was summoned to the First Squad’s office. He took a seat across the long conference table, with Dou Hua settled beside him. At the head of the table, Liao Ming was busy condensing the notes from the previous night’s interrogation of Zou Sheng.

“The deceased, Du Xue. Female, twenty-one years old,” Liao Ming began, his voice level. “Originally from Xiwan Village under Wanghai City’s jurisdiction. She started working at the Municipal Public Security Bureau’s canteen a year ago, stationed at one of the serving windows.” He looked up, his sharp gaze shifting to the forensic doctor. “What do we have on the body?”

Pei Yu placed a stack of photographs onto the table’s surface.

“Judging from the external examination, there are no other injuries on the deceased’s body. There is only a single sharp-force wound on the left wrist—the fatal injury that led to death by exsanguination. It is entirely consistent with the fruit knife recovered from the scene.”

He singled out the photograph of the knife.

“The handle bears one set of fingerprints, and one set only: those of the deceased. Furthermore, only the deceased’s prints were detected on the Oxazepam box and the small bucket. The preliminary conclusion is suicide. She chose to ingest medication before cutting her wrist, even going as far as to submerge the limb in water to ensure the wound didn’t close. Her resolve was absolute. The body remained in its original position and shows no signs of having been moved post-mortem.”

Pei Yu’s fingertip tapped against several sheets of paper. “Additionally, this psychiatric evaluation was discovered in a dresser drawer in her bedroom. It indicates that the deceased suffered from mild depression.”

Liao Ming leaned in. “Mild?”

Pei Yu nodded in confirmation. “The report is dated one month ago.”

When he had first seen the document, the same question nagging at Liao Ming had flickered through his own mind. Patients with mild depression rarely reach a point of such total, terminal despair. For the condition to spiral so violently in a mere thirty days suggested she had encountered a catastrophic blow or some form of severe psychological trauma.

“Right, right,” Dou Hua chimed in from beside him, his expression thoughtful. “Last night, Zou Sheng mentioned that her mental state had been poor and he was constantly worried she’d do something reckless. Maybe she really did just give up because of the depression.”

Pei Yu lowered his lashes slightly, offering neither agreement nor dissent. He suspected the depression was a catalyst, but he doubted it was the sole architect of her end.

Across the table, Liao Ming stood up. “So, we can rule out homicide and accident. It’s confirmed as a suicide.”

Pei Yu gave a steady nod. “Mhm.”

The office door swung open then. Pei Yu looked up to see Xiao Tang, a criminal investigator from the First Squad.

“Perfect timing.” Liao Ming handed a folder of documents to Xiao Tang. “Go notify the family. Tell them to come to the bureau to claim the body.”

Xiao Tang acknowledged the order and turned to leave. The moment the door clicked shut, Pei Yu spoke, his voice dropping into a deeper, more serious register.

“Captain Liao, I have some observations.”

Liao Ming paused and, as expected, sank back into his chair. “Speak.”

“I found several anomalies at the scene.” Pei Yu spread a few photographs across the table, pointing them out for both Liao Ming and Dou Hua. “First, this electric kettle on the living room floor. Every other furnishing in the apartment was meticulous, everything in its place. She was clearly an organized person. Yet this kettle was sitting isolated on the floor, separated from its base on the table. More importantly, there wasn’t a single fingerprint on the entire surface of the pot.”

“Oh, right! I remember that kettle,” Dou Hua said, his brow furrowing. “We couldn’t lift a single print from it. Could it be… maybe she was just a clean freak and wiped it down?”

“For a daily object, no matter how clean someone is, it’s almost impossible not to leave a trace,” Liao Ming countered. His eyes moved back to Pei Yu. “Go on.”

“Second, the deceased’s phone.” Pei Yu held up the transparent evidence bag. “The screen is completely clean—it was clearly wiped down with care. Furthermore, at 4:06 PM, when the text message was sent, the deceased should have been on the brink of death, likely in a deep, unresponsive coma. She wouldn’t have had the consciousness to operate a phone.”

“Huh?” Dou Hua’s voice was thick with shock. “Then the text… could it have been a scheduled message? Maybe she set it in advance so Zou Sheng would find her?”

“Then why bother wiping away every fingerprint?” Pei Yu glanced at the screen, which was as smooth as a mirror. “A person intent on death doesn’t concern themselves with such trivialities.”

Liao Ming offered a nod of agreement, signaling for him to continue. Pei Yu then lifted another evidence bag from the table.

“Third, this opened box of sedatives.” He turned the bag so the others could see it clearly. “I found the receipt next to the television. This box was purchased only the day before, and now it is entirely empty.”

Dou Hua reached out toward the bag but pulled his hand back as Pei Yu continued. “But she wanted to kill herself. Maybe she just swallowed the whole box?”

“Did she swallow the foil blisters too?” Pei Yu shot him a look.

Dou Hua stammered, unable to find an answer. Liao Ming took the small bag, turning it over in his hands.

“This brand of Oxazepam comes in boxes of twenty. Is there any way to tell how many she actually took?”

Pei Yu shook his head. “Not from an external exam. We need the family’s consent for a full autopsy.”

Liao Ming nodded and set the bag back down. “Anything else?”

“The bedroom.” Pei Yu pulled out another photo. “Fourth, the dresser drawers in the bedroom had been rummaged through, yet no cash or jewelry was missing. In contrast, the small trash bin in the corner of the room was completely empty. Even the plastic liner was gone.”

“Brother Pei,” Dou Hua said, his voice laced with suspicion, “how do you know there was supposed to be a liner?”

Pei Yu’s fingers precisely selected three more photos, lining them up for him. “The living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom all have the same model of bin. All of them were lined with these specific plastic bags featuring a five-pointed star pattern, and all of them contained a small amount of waste.”

“Additionally, there is one more anomaly, though it may be unrelated,” Pei Yu added. “As I was leaving, I noticed fresh tool marks on the door lock.”

Dou Hua looked puzzled. “Picking marks? But both Du Xue and Zou Sheng had keys.”

Pei Yu gave a slight nod. “We can’t be certain yet if it’s related to her death.”

Watching Liao Ming sink into silent contemplation, Pei Yu pushed the photographs back across the table. “That’s all for now. The footprints from the scene are still being verified.”

“Are you suggesting,” Liao Ming said, raising his eyes to meet Pei Yu’s, “that her suicide might be connected to Zou Sheng?”

Pei Yu pursed his lips. “Until the detailed autopsy results are in, everything is merely suspicion.”

“Right. I understand.” Liao Ming nodded, beginning to gather the materials on the table. “Once the family arrives, we need to consult them immediately. We need that autopsy.”

Pei Yu hummed in response. He was about to stand up when he heard Dou Hua ask, a note of distress in his voice, “What if they… what if they refuse? What do we do then?”

“If they don’t agree, we don’t cut.” Across the table, Liao Ming had already stood. “A suicide doesn’t constitute a criminal case. We can’t force an autopsy.”

“What? Then Du Xue…” Dou Hua clearly hadn’t moved past his grief for the girl. His voice was heavy with regret. “…She’s just gone, just like that?”

Pei Yu didn’t look at him, simply pulling back his chair. “In this world, people are dying and being born every second. The sun rises and the moon sets; year after year, the cycle repeats. The world of the living never changes simply because of the will of the living.”

Dou Hua’s expression didn’t lighten, but Liao Ming looked at Pei Yu with a ghost of a smile. “I think you missed your calling. You should quit being a coroner and take up philosophy—you’d be a natural.”

Pei Yu didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. “Since I have a professional skill to support myself, I’m not yet desperate enough to sink to that level.”

As they spoke, the door burst open again. It was Xiao Tang, the officer who had just left. He strode toward Liao Ming with frantic, hurried steps, his voice crackling with anxiety.

“Captain! Du Xue’s parents just got here. They don’t believe for a second that their daughter killed herself. They’ve brought a white cloth and they’re screaming for a life for a life—they’re making a huge scene at the bureau gates!”

***

Author’s Note:

Regarding that line about “sinking” [into philosophy]—please don’t scold me, everyone! It was just a joke. I personally have a great deal of admiration and respect for philosophers and thinkers.