Attending ex-girlfriend's wedding, arresting the groom's officer on the spot

As the police car carrying Zhang Lijun stopped at the entrance to the Wild Wolf Valley, morning mist was seeping from the culvert, condensing into a thin film of water on the asphalt. Two officers helped him out of the car, the shackles dragging on the gravel with a clattering sound. The hem of his white coat, covered in bits of grass, looked like a faded rag in the gloomy sky. His gaze had barely touched the charred marks deep within the valley when he suddenly trembled violently, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, his forehead pressed against the damp ground, repeatedly muttering, "It's here...it's all happening here..."

Wang Shuai stood by the cordon, the scene investigation record in his hand dampened by the morning mist. "Start identifying from where you met Zhang Lihui." His voice cut through the mist, landing on Zhang Lijun's pale face—the composure he had displayed during interrogation had long been eroded by fear, leaving only an empty void.

Zhang Lijun's finger trembled as he pointed to a boulder on the east side of the valley, its surface still bearing the chalk circles drawn by the police. "I arranged to meet him here at 10 p.m. on May 12th," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing, sweat dripping from his chin onto the front of his white coat. "I arrived half an hour early, bringing pine branches and tin buckets in a farm tricycle, which I piled up behind that boulder..." Technicians had discovered a dense distribution of size 42 shoe prints behind the boulder, with stride lengths shortened to 50 centimeters, consistent with the gait characteristics of someone "carrying heavy objects." The wear pattern at the edges of the shoe prints perfectly matched the leather shoes in Zhang Lijun's locker room.

Following the route he indicated deeper into the valley, Zhang Lijun stopped in front of a patch of charred reeds, where unburnt charcoal particles were still embedded in the ashes. "I handed him 50,000 yuan here," he said, tapping the center of the reeds with his toes. "He took the money, threw it on the ground, crushed it with his foot, and said that this amount of money wasn't even enough to buy a wallet from his shop..." During the on-site investigation, fragments of RMB fibers were extracted from the site, which, after testing, matched the composition of the banknotes in Zhang Lihui's wallet. The fingerprints on the banknotes contained DNA from both Zhang Lijun and Zhang Lihui.

When they reached the cremation pit, Zhang Lijun suddenly collapsed to the ground and had to be supported by police officers to avoid falling into the water. "It was here that I poured cyanide into him," his voice sounded like it had been sanded on. "I hid the bottle in a pine branch, and when he called me a thief, I suddenly pulled out the bottle and poured it into his mouth..." In the soil near the pit, technicians found a clear size 42 shoe print. The forefoot pressure surface was 30% larger than normal, consistent with the force characteristics of "forceful push-off." The dark blue fibers on the edge of the shoe print matched the composition of the windbreaker Zhang Lihui was wearing when he disappeared.

Wang Shuai's laser pointer stopped on a rock at the edge of the pit, where there was a 1×2 cm scratch with embedded silvery-white metal shavings. "How did this mark come about?" Zhang Lijun's gaze swept over the rock, and he suddenly trembled violently: "He hit it when he was struggling," he gestured to the position where Zhang Lihui fell, "his head hit the rock, and he bled immediately..." The location of the "subcutaneous hematoma at the back of the head" in the forensic report corresponded perfectly to the scratch, and the bloodstain pretreatment agent residue on the rock was consistent with the composition on Zhang Lijun's scalpel—it was a hemostatic agent commonly used in neurosurgery.

When pointing out the process of cremation, Zhang Lijun pointed to a pine stump at the edge of the pit, the trunk still bearing fresh cut surfaces. "I used pine branches that I brought in with my farm tricycle," he said, tracing an arc on the trunk with his finger, "to pile them up in three layers, surrounding him in the middle, and then poured in 92-octane gasoline I bought from a gas station..." The soil around the stump tested positive for gasoline, which was completely consistent with the residue in Zhang Lijun's vehicle's fuel tank. The degree of carbonization of the pine branches was calculated to indicate that the burning time was approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes, matching the dwell time displayed on his vehicle's GPS.

"He was still moving after the fire was lit," Zhang Lijun's voice suddenly rose, filled with an almost manic fear. "I saw the hands of his stainless steel watch on his wrist spinning until 11:05..." During the forensic autopsy, it was discovered that the watch crystal on Zhang Lihui's left wrist had shattered, and the hands were frozen at 11:05. The carbonized particles in the gaps of the watch chain were consistent with the composition of the pine branches at the scene, confirming the conclusion that he was still alive when he was burned.

Reaching the tricycle parking spot on the ridge, Zhang Lijun pointed to the clearest tire tracks: "I parked the vehicle here and used a shovel to shovel the blood-stained mud into the truck bed," he gestured as he swung the shovel, "and also threw the scalpel into the mine..." The tire tracks on the ridge were 1.2 meters apart and 18 centimeters wide, perfectly matching the tricycle of Zhang Lijun's father-in-law. The mud in the tire treads was consistent with the soil in the cremation pit. The scalpel found in the mine was numbered "037," and the leather fibers on the handle matched the residue in Zhang Lihui's fingernails perfectly.

When finally identifying the location where the murder weapon was disposed of, Zhang Lijun pointed to the rapids of the mountain stream: "I smashed the tin bucket and threw it here," he said in a low, almost whispered voice, "There was still a little bit of cyanide left inside, and I thought the water would wash it away..." Technicians retrieved the deformed tin bucket 300 meters downstream, and cyanide residue was detected on the inner wall, with a concentration consistent with the reagent in Zhang Lijun's office safe. The tooth marks on the bucket's opening were identified as bite marks by Zhang Lijun—he admitted to biting open the bucket lid with his teeth.

By the end of the identification process, Zhang Lijun's clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to his back like a black plaster. Wang Shuai opened the forensic report and pointed to the value of "carboxyhemoglobin saturation 34.7%": "This means he was still breathing when he was burned. Why did you do this?" Zhang Lijun suddenly raised his head, tears mixed with dirt in his eyes: "I'm a doctor, I know how to make him die completely..." Before he could finish speaking, he was taken away by the police officers. The sound of shackles echoed in the valley, intertwining with the sound of the mountain stream to create a suffocating dirge.

On the highway outside the police cordon, Lu Chuan examined every detail in the identification record, comparing it to the crime scene investigation and forensic report. Suddenly, he closed the notebook. From the size 42 shoe print to the leather fibers on the scalpel, from the cyanide concentration to the time his watch stopped, each piece of evidence was like a puzzle piece, now perfectly fitting together to reveal the complete truth. The mountain breeze rustled through the treetops, carrying the scent of pine needles, seemingly trying to dispel the lingering stench of blood from the case, but unable to dispel the twisted humanity of the two men, consumed by desire and hatred.

Less than a week after the Zhang Lijun case, the Criminal Investigation Detachment received another report from the street.

A farmer discovered a body in his cellar.

When the flagstones at the entrance to Li Guojun's cellar in Wangjiagou were lifted, a stench of mustiness and rust assaulted his nostrils, causing him to slam his hoe down on the steps. When Lu Chuan arrived at Wangjiagou, police tape had already been laid out around the farmhouse, and golden corncobs swayed on ropes, casting shadows on the pale face of the person who had reported the incident. (End of Chapter)