Chapter 6 – The Countdown

As a cornerstone of the bureau’s young elite, Liao Ming’s schedule—packed with crime scenes, reports, lectures, and major conferences—was significantly more grueling than that of technical investigators like Pei Yu or Dou Hua.

A full week passed before Pei Yu finally caught him alone in his office.

Knowing that such an opportunity might not come again, Pei Yu acted decisively and knocked on Liao Ming’s door.

“Captain Liao, let me borrow your filing cabinet key. My printer is out of paper.”

“Don’t you have one?” Liao Ming didn’t even look up, his head buried in the documents he was signing.

“I was in a rush and forgot mine.” Pei Yu lied without a flicker of hesitation.

Liao Ming unclipped a ring of keys from his belt and tossed them across the desk. He waved a hand, wordlessly dismissing him.

Back in the autopsy room, Pei Yu retrieved a prepared piece of cardboard and covered it with a layer of double-sided tape. He quickly identified the specific key he needed from the ring and pressed it gently onto the cardboard. Then, reaching into a nearby container, he took a handful of the yellow gypsum powder typically used for dental molds and sifted a fine layer over the key.

Soon, an identical impression was etched into the powder beneath the key. Pei Yu carefully removed the metal key and wiped away the remaining dust.

Leaving the autopsy room with the keys in hand, he ran into Liao Ming in the corridor, who was also heading out.

The moment he extended the keys, Pei Yu’s heart skipped a beat. He noticed a tiny speck of yellow gypsum powder that he had failed to wipe clean.

His breath hitched. He cursed his own carelessness. With a man as observant as Captain Liao, this whole elaborate charade would surely be exposed as a wasted effort.

Yet the die was cast; he couldn’t very well pull his hand back now. He could only feign ignorance. If Liao Ming asked later, he would simply claim some plaster had spilled in the cabinet and he hadn’t noticed.

As he gritted his teeth in silent anxiety, a drawn-out voice rang through the hall.

“Brother Peeeeeiiiii…”

The shout successfully diverted Liao Ming’s attention, and he turned to see who was approaching. That split second was all Pei Yu needed. With a quick flick of his finger, he brushed the powder off the key’s surface, rubbing it a few extra times for good measure.

“I saw this when I passed the mailroom and brought it straight to you.” The owner of the voice, Dou Hua, arrived with a beaming smile and handed Pei Yu a small courier box. “Someone wrote you another love letter!”

Returning the keys to Liao Ming while taking the box, Pei Yu shot Dou Hua a look. “Nonsense.”

“If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.” Dou Hua pointed to the writing on the box. “It has your name—Pei Yu—and there’s even a heart drawn around it. If that’s not a love letter, what is?”

Whether it was a love letter or not, Pei Yu couldn’t say, but he could certainly smell the faint fragrance wafting from the seams of the cardboard. A familiar, haunting aroma swirled around him—intense yet cold, fresh yet seductive. A scent that was half-invitation, half-peril.

Cedar, sea spray, neroli, musk.

Shen Xingchen’s scent.

Pei Yu’s heart stirred. He tucked the box away with feigned indifference, avoiding Liao Ming’s sharp, searching gaze.

“Stop pretending, Brother Pei.” Dou Hua tilted his head, his face full of gossip. “In the six months I’ve been at the bureau, I’ve seen people write you love letters at least three times. Since you rarely give out your contact info, anyone who wants to confess has to send mail to the mailroom.”

Pei Yu pursed his lips, not deigning to argue.

“And I heard several of them met you at crime scenes, right?” Dou Hua pressed on excitedly. “Either helpful citizens or beautiful female officers.” He nudged Liao Ming with his elbow. “Captain Liao, have you ever had a romantic encounter like that?”

Liao Ming clipped the keys back to his belt, his eyes lowered. “I don’t have that kind of luck. If you want to try it, I’ll take you with me to the next scene.”

“I was waiting for you to say that!” Dou Hua laughed happily, as if he’d received a precious promise, his face lighting up with joy. “I’ve worked here so long and never gotten to see one of those major crime scenes. Every day it’s just raiding gambling dens or picking up johns. It’s boring as hell.”

“That’s the work of the Public Security Detachment,” Liao Ming said, exchanging a look of silent amusement with Pei Yu. “The Captain of the Second Squad actually sent a trace evidence technician like you on those?”

“You bet! I’m going to part ways with him.” Dou Hua waved a hand grandly. “Captain Liao, from this day forward, I’m sticking with your First Squad. You can’t go back on your word.”

Pei Yu gave Liao Ming a cooperative nod, gesturing for them to continue their chat, and took the opportunity to turn and leave.

“Brother Pei! Out of all those beautiful officers, isn’t there even one you like?” Dou Hua called out after him. Gossip needed a conclusion, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Without looking back, Pei Yu replied, “I have no interest in the living.”

Once inside the autopsy room, he let the lock click into place. He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t want anyone to disturb him while he opened this small box saturated with Shen Xingchen’s perfume.

Inside the box was a single rose folded from white paper. The petals were intricate, layered and overlapping, white as translucent jade—a veritable work of art.

Pei Yu picked up the rose and saw the scattered, terrifyingly vivid spots of crimson upon it. The sunlight streaming through the window hit the petals, seeming to gild them with a faint golden edge. The bewitching red and the flawless white complemented each other in a perfect, albeit eerie and beautiful, harmony.

There was no need for testing. From the color and texture, he recognized it as human blood. Fresh, vital blood.

There were exactly nine drops.

Ten… nine.

Pei Yu tilted his head back slightly. Shen Xingchen was using this method to count down his so-called “chance.”

Those obsidian eyes, shimmering with smiles and holding the thick mists of the River Styx, floated before Pei Yu’s mind. He brought the paper rose close to his lips, inhaling the perfume mingled with the metallic sweetness of blood, and closed his eyes in a trance.

Rose petals are red. And so is his blood.

———

Late that same night.

Emerging from the autopsy room, Pei Yu took a deep breath to steady his nerves and headed toward the archives.

Precisely cutting a key out of cardboard was hardly a difficult task, especially for the hands of a forensic doctor. Since the daytime was filled with too many prying eyes, he had to wait until night when everyone had left. It would have been more convenient during his own night shift, but his next one wasn’t for another month, and he couldn’t wait that long.

The archives were located directly across from the night shift rest area, separated only by a corridor.

Pei Yu had checked the schedule. Tonight, the officers on duty were Xiao Tang and Xiao He from the First Squad—Liao Ming’s subordinates. His sudden appearance at the door of the rest area gave Xiao Tang, who was busy slurping instant noodles, a bit of a fright.

“Brother Pei! It’s so late, you haven’t left yet?”

“I need to check some things in the archives. I didn’t have time during the day.” Pei Yu gestured vaguely toward the archives behind him, but then he sensed something was off. He turned to find the archive door wide open. The emergency lights were on, casting a dim glow, and there seemed to be someone inside.

Noticing his bewilderment, Xiao Tang explained, “That’s the temporary worker from the electrical room, Little He¹Should also be Xiao He (小何). But since there’s also another Xiao He (小贺), I’ll just use Little He. Or should I use Xiao Hé (小何) and Xiao Hè (小贺)?. He’s in there fixing the wiring.”

Fixing the wiring?

He had been in the autopsy room all day and knew nothing of what had happened outside, let alone anything about a temporary worker named Little He.

“What happened?”

“Routine maintenance today…” Xiao Tang spoke through a mouthful of noodles, his words a bit muffled. “Little He came to check and found that the archive wires were scorched. There’s nothing but paper in there; we can’t risk an accident, so it had to be fixed immediately. He’s in there swapping out the cables now.”

Pei Yu nodded, listening to Xiao Tang slurp a mouthful of soup.

“You can go in and take a look, Brother Pei. If he’s finished, you can check your files.”

“Are you here by yourself?” Pei Yu scanned the room, not seeing the other duty officer.

“Xiao He is in the back room.” Xiao Tang pointed to a small door beside him and made a shushing gesture with a grin. “Taking advantage of the quiet to sneak a nap.”

Pei Yu nodded and turned to enter the archives.

Rounding a tall metal shelf packed with case files, he caught the sound of faint rustling. In the dim light, a figure was half-crouched by the wall, tinkering with the wires. Hearing the footsteps approaching, the figure stood up, turned around, and offered a brilliant smile.

“Brother Pei… we meet again.”

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  Should also be Xiao He (小何). But since there’s also another Xiao He (小贺), I’ll just use Little He. Or should I use Xiao Hé (小何) and Xiao Hè (小贺)?