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

"Over a thousand, finally found them, my eyes are almost blind from looking." Li Bing lit his first cigarette of the day, the smoke spreading in the sunlight. He took a deep drag, the dizziness from the nicotine making him sway: "Don't be too happy yet, why did Liu Laosi drag him into the cellar? Was he just going to let him die, or was he afraid of getting into trouble? There's definitely something going on here."

The computer screen in the analysis room was still lit, the twenty-odd names that had been excluded lying silently in the gray list, like countless fates brushing past each other. Zhang Hui gazed at the gradually brightening sky outside the window, the distant tower cranes outlining their black silhouettes in the morning light. Zheng Qiang's ID photo was still smiling on the screen, wearing brand-new work clothes, the scar on his left forearm hidden in the sleeve of his shirt, as if silently telling the story of that night of May 15th, how a truck driver collapsed in the mud of Wangjiagou in a sudden, excruciating pain, dragged into that cold cellar by darkness and accident. Xiao Zhou yawned and stood up, the chair legs scraping against the floor. He stretched, his bones cracking: "Anyway, at least we recognized the person, so it wasn't a wasted night."

Zhang Hui picked up the DNA report, his fingertips lightly tracing the name "Zheng Qiang," the rough texture of the paper seeping through his skin. He knew this was just the beginning; the whereabouts of Liu Laosi's tricycle, Zheng Qiang's truck, the cause of the acute pancreatitis… countless mysteries awaited unraveling, but at least, this soul huddled in the cellar finally had a name of its own.

The blinds in the Criminal Investigation Division's conference room were only a third open, letting in slanting morning light that cast interplay of light and shadow on the long conference table. Lu Chuan slammed his enamel mug onto the table, the tea stems swirling in the murky tea with a loud clatter that startled Xiao Zhou, who was sitting opposite him, into straightening up. The quartz clock on the wall pointed to exactly eight in the morning, the ticking of the second hand particularly clear in the silent room, like a countdown to the analysis meeting.

“Everyone’s here, let’s begin.” Lu Chuan tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze sweeping over everyone present—Yang Lin’s bruises were worse than yesterday, Zhang Kai’s white coat cuffs had traces of iodine, and Zhang Hui’s cigarette pack was half empty. He pushed Zheng Qiang’s ID photo to the center of the table; the man in the photo smiled awkwardly at the camera, the scar on his left forearm completely covered by his shirt sleeve.

Yang Lin stood up first, projecting photos of the scene one by one onto the screen. The first photo was of the entrance to the Li family's cellar; the pry marks on the bluestone slab looked like gruesome wounds under the high-definition lens. "The area of ​​the on-site investigation has been expanded to a diameter of 50 meters," his voice hoarse from staying up all night, his fingers tracing arcs on the screen. "The lock at the cellar entrance has obvious pry marks, and there are metal residues inside the lock cylinder, matching the marks from a flathead screwdriver." He switched to the next photo; the edges of a size 42 rubber shoe print in the soil gleamed with a damp sheen. "The suspect's footprints extend from the village entrance to the cellar, with a stride length of 65 centimeters, a stride angle of 8 degrees, and obvious inward turning characteristics. His estimated height is 165-170 centimeters, and his weight is approximately 60 kilograms."

Suddenly, a dark green hemp rope appeared on the screen, the knot tied by the fisherman still stained with dark red. "This hemp rope matches the residual fibers on the deceased's wrist," Yang Lin magnified the details of the knot. "The knotting method is unique and rarely seen in the local rural areas, but fishermen in the fishing port often use this type of knot to secure their fishing nets." He paused, then pulled up a photo of corn stalks. Under the microscope, the fibers at the broken ends were clearly visible. "There are three signs of the cornfield collapsing, and fresh sap is seeping from the broken stalks. The dark blue fibers on them are the same as the composition of the deceased's work clothes, indicating that the suspect passed through here when dragging the body."

Zhang Kai opened the autopsy report, the rustling of pages breaking the brief silence. "The deceased, Zheng Qiang, male, 34 years old, cause of death determined to be acute hemorrhagic necrotizing pancreatitis," his fingertip pointed to a photograph of the pancreatic slice; the grayish-black necrotic lesions resembled a dried-up swamp. "The pancreas weighed 120 grams, with a 20% increase in volume. Microscopic examination revealed acinar necrosis and interstitial hemorrhage, consistent with the characteristics of acute severe pancreatitis induced by a high-fat diet." He switched to a photograph of the neck; the ligature groove remained clearly visible amidst the putrefied venous network. "The ligature groove on the neck formed near death, with a width of 2.1 centimeters, perfectly matching the hemp rope found at the scene. However, there were no obvious signs of asphyxiation, and cardiac blood clotting was normal, ruling out death by mechanical asphyxiation."

"What exactly happened with the rope groove?" Li Bing suddenly interjected, his pen twirling rapidly across his notebook. "It couldn't have been the deceased strangling himself, could it?" Zhang Kai pulled up a photo of the nail bed microcirculation; the stagnant red blood cells on the screen resembled a dark red cloud. "Microcirculatory disturbances during the near-death period cause cyanosis of the nails. The suspect may have mistakenly thought he was still alive and used rope to restrain or drag him. At this time, the skin tissue still has a weak vital response, hence the rope groove." He added, "The stomach contents show that he ate a large amount of high-fat food 4-6 hours before death. Combined with his history of hyperlipidemia, this is a typical trigger for pancreatitis."

Zhang Hui laid out Zheng Qiang's freight route map on the table, drawing a straight line between the Wangjiagou cold storage and the cellar with a red marker. "At 8:17 pm on May 15th, Zheng Qiang drove his truck, Hebei B8275X, into Wangjiagou. After unloading the goods at 8:42 pm, he drove out and then disappeared into a blind spot of the surveillance cameras," he tapped the red dot on the map. "His last known location was less than 500 meters from the Li family cellar, which matches the onset time of acute pancreatitis—about 4 hours after a meal." He pulled up Zheng Qiang's call records; the last call was to the logistics company's dispatcher at 8:35 pm. "The call content shows that he complained of 'severe stomach pain,' which is a typical symptom of pancreatitis."

“The key figure is Liu Laosi,” Lu Chuan suddenly circled the photo in the population system with a red pen. The old man on the screen was hunched over, his tricycle bed piled high with scrap. “He had a rear-end collision with Zheng Qiang last year and has a prior record of disputes; he appeared near the Li family cellar on the evening of May 18th, the time matching the window where the body was dumped; he rode a blue tricycle, the tire model matching the trajectory at the scene; most importantly—” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, “His fishing boat driver’s license shows that he worked in the fishing port ten years ago and knows how to tie fishermen’s knots.”

The air in the meeting room seemed to freeze. Sparrows hopped and chirped on the branches outside the window, their sounds unable to penetrate the heavy atmosphere. "There are two possibilities now," Lu Chuan said, tracing two lines on the table with his finger. "One is that Liu Laosi discovered Zheng Qiang's illness, refused to help, and dragged the body into the cellar to cover his tracks; the other is that the two had an argument, and Liu Laosi restrained Zheng Qiang with a rope, causing his condition to worsen and leading to his death, after which he disposed of the body." He looked at Zhang Kai. "Which one is more consistent with the autopsy findings?" (End of Chapter)