At the end of summer, as night deepened, several police cars were parked outside Building Seven in the Wanhe Residential Area. Blue and white police tape encircled the building's entrance. Two detectives stood inside the cordon, blocking the curious gazes peering into the isolated area.
On the second floor, in Room 208, personnel from the Criminal Technology Department had arrived. Crime scene photographers captured the scene's overall condition. The Trace Examination Group checked for fingerprints, footprints, and other special traces inside the room. Meanwhile, the Physical and Chemical Biological Inspection Group was responsible for collecting blood, tissue from the corpse, and other biological evidence.
To avoid destroying potential evidence, officers constructed a temporary walkway using dozens of palm-sized boards in areas without footprints, leading to the body on the living room floor.
Two forensic scientists in isolation gear squatted beside the body. One examined the corpse's exterior while the other recorded details on a human body chart and made a verbal recording.
"Zhang Cuilian, female, 67 years old, body length 162cm, normally developed, average nutrition, sallow complexion. Postmortem lividity was purplish-red, located on the back of the head, neck, back, sacral area, and the uncompressed undersides of the limbs; it did not fade under pressure. The abdomen showed signs of postmortem greening..."
MEOW. MEOW. MEOW.
WOOF. WOOF.
The intermittent meows and barks were also captured in the forensic scientists' verbal recordings.
Zhang Cuilian had kept three cats and four dogs. In the two days following her death, they had significantly damaged the evidence at the scene. The young officers from the Physical and Chemical Biological Inspection Group struggled to confine the cats and dogs to cages; these pets were also considered "biological evidence."
Officer Wang, with over twenty years on the force, automatically ignored the noise. He stood before the living room bookshelf, gently picking up a photo frame.
In the photo, Zhang Cuilian stood with her husband and son, her smile serene. She had meticulously permed, short, salt-and-pepper hair and wore an enamel-blue shirt with a bird and floral pattern, along with capri pants. Earrings, a necklace, a ring—she wore them all.
A lady of great poise, yet fate had not been kind to her. Her husband died of a myocardial infarction a few years ago, her son also died unexpectedly, and now, she herself...
Officer Wang put down the photo frame, turned, and looked towards the living room.
The body, once Zhang Cuilian, lay sprawled on the floor, limbs outstretched. Dried bloodstains radiated outward from the corpse, covering most of the living room floor in a dark red, resembling a crude and ugly ink painting.
Large areas of muscle tissue were missing from the corpse's limbs. Only stark white bones remained of the hands and feet; the fingers and toes were gone entirely.
Even more eerily, the corpse's entire face, including the eyes, had vanished. Only the frontal, zygomatic, and mandibular bones remained, connected by a thin layer of muscle, leaving behind dark, empty sockets staring at the ceiling.
No face, no skin.
Officer Wang exhaled. The mutilated corpse reminded him of something:
Pickled pepper chicken feet, not picked clean.
This association made his stomach churn. He stepped onto the temporary walkway, left Room 208, and headed downstairs to smoke.
Most residents in the Wanhe Residential Area were elderly people relocated due to demolition. They stood outside the police tape, the light rain doing nothing to dampen their curiosity.
"I heard it was Sister Zhang from the second floor who had the accident, right?"
"Yeah, poor woman, living all alone. If her neighbor across the hall hadn't complained to property management about the stench, who knows when she would've been found..."
"Ah, life is so fleeting. One moment they're here, the next they're gone. I just went shopping with her the other day; she seemed fine then. How could she suddenly be gone? I wonder what happened..."
Inside the police line, Officer Wang silently listened to the chatter. He lowered his head to light a cigarette, a wave of disappointment washing over him.
The deceased rarely participated in community activities for the elderly. She had a small social circle and infrequent social interactions, so the neighbors didn't know much about her.
"Maybe it was diabetes."
From the crowd, a young man with a backpack, clutching a box of chive pockets, spoke softly, "To be precise, it was numerous complications caused by Type 2 diabetes."
Officer Wang looked up sharply. "Who are you?"
The high school student, Li Ang, smiled. "I am a successor to communism, a tender flower of the motherland, a red-scarfed youth who does good deeds without seeking recognition."
Who's asking you that? Officer Wang, slightly annoyed, glanced at Li Ang. "Did you know her?"
"I didn't know her personally," Li Ang replied, "but I'd seen her walking her dog when I played badminton downstairs in the complex previously."
"How did you know she had diabetes?"
"I guessed."
Li Ang said casually, "Back then, I noticed she was overweight, with a ruddy complexion and dry skin. Her steps were sluggish and weak, her lower legs and feet were swollen, and her fingers were puffy. She had ulcerating sores on her arms, droopy eyelids, and signs of recurrent eyelid infections.
So, I guessed she had diabetes. I even advised her to watch her diet, take her medication on time, keep exercising, and seek hospital treatment as soon as possible. But alas..."
With that, Li Ang shook his head.
The surrounding crowd gave Li Ang strange looks. Officer Wang took a drag from his cigarette. "Kid, are you a medical student?"
"When I was little, I was constipated. The doctor said a few drops of glycerin solution would help, but I poured the whole bottle onto my stool, and it still didn't work."
Li Ang stated calmly, "After that, I read some medical books and became self-taught."
This kid's something else. Is he a genius or just a fool?
Li Ang looked at Officer Wang's uniform with a hint of envy. "Officer," he said, "I've always wanted to be a respected police officer. To hone my investigative skills, I often read Detective Conan at comic book stores. I even mark the culprit in pencil.
The last time I tried to be a hero was at the amusement park. I grappled with a suspected thief for over two hours before the park manager finally kicked me off the carousel."
Officer Wang's eye twitched. There was so much to unpack, he didn't know where to begin. He just stubbed out his cigarette and turned towards Building Seven.
"The windows in Room 208 on the second floor don't seem to be open," Li Ang remarked, looking up. "I wonder what Sister Zhang's cats and dogs have been eating for the past two days."
Officer Wang paused.
Li Ang continued, seemingly oblivious to anyone else, "If Sister Zhang collapsed from acute diabetic complications, her pets would have sensed something was wrong. They likely would have tried to wake her by licking her skin.
Unfortunately, their attempts to wake her failed. The taste of blood, from licking her broken skin, would have agitated them. With no one to feed them, the pets would have started looking for food themselves.
For instance... their owner.
Generally, the soft, exposed flesh of the face is eaten first. Fingers, toes, forearms, and lower legs are also easy targets."
Li Ang, unfazed by the strange looks from bystanders, simply smiled and continued,
"When a whale dies in the ocean, its body sinks to the seabed, eventually providing food for marine creatures like hagfish, clams, and blind shrimp. Biologists call this process a 'whale fall.' It's the whale's final act of kindness to the sea.
The cycle of life and death continues, as always...."