I became the police station's darling after I could understand what the furry creature was sayi

Chapter 277 Father? A twenty-year-old cold case? Irrelevant?

"Um…"

Nan Punian flipped through the documents.

Perhaps because he had been toughened up during his time in the wild, the interrogation of Chen Cheng went incredibly smoothly.

Nan Shu thought of a word: Indulge in silky smoothness.

Towards the end of the interrogation, Nan Punian looked up from the documents and at Chen Cheng, asking, "Tell me about your relationship with your father, Chen Ming."

Chen Cheng was taken aback.

"My father?"

Upon hearing this question, Nan Shu's eyes also showed a hint of doubt, not quite understanding Nan Punian's purpose in asking it.

"Ah."

Chen Cheng was puzzled, but after thinking for a moment, he slowly said, "I... greatly admire my father when I was a child."

In contrast, Chen Ming summarized the father-son relationship between the two with the sentence, "Acheng and I are not close."

Chen Cheng, however, doesn't seem to think that way.

“I never met my mother, and I rarely saw my father either. I was raised by my grandparents when I was only five or six years old. I would only see my father once every week or two. Back then, the neighbors all said that my father was very capable; he owned a restaurant and made a lot of money…”

Chen Cheng was still young at that time and didn't understand anything, but he liked the envious looks the other children gave him and enjoyed it. So even though he rarely saw Chen Ming, he still admired his father very much.

Chen Cheng's father inherited his skills from his grandfather, so he kept pestering his grandfather to teach him. His grandfather was a man of few words, but he was quite accommodating to him. Since Chen Cheng wanted to learn, his grandfather taught him.

But Chen Cheng hadn't even studied for a year when his grandfather passed away from heart disease, and his grandmother, heartbroken, also passed away not long after. So he returned to his father's side.

Chen Ming is very busy, extremely busy. Sometimes he won't go home for two or three days. He will only leave him enough pocket money and food expenses so that he can eat out on his own.

Chen Cheng understands perfectly. After finishing his homework, he would secretly practice cooking and preparing ingredients at home, determined to become a master of intangible cultural heritage like his grandfather and father, and to inherit their mantle.

Never thought.

During a duck-shaping practice, his father discovered him. Instead of praising him, his father became very angry and even hit him.

His father confiscated the kitchen utensils and forbade him from doing anything improper, telling him to study hard, as education was the only way out.

Chen Cheng was very puzzled and felt very wronged. Back then, he was a child and was particularly resentful after being beaten up. He thought, "Now I want to learn but you won't let me. When I grow up, you'll beg me to learn, but I still won't learn!"

then.

From then on, Chen Cheng focused on his studies, and the relationship between father and son cooled down.

"However, looking back now, I have indeed made much more money than him. His title of 'master' sounds impressive, but it's just an empty name."

As Chen Cheng finished speaking, he curled his lip, a hint of mockery in his expression.

It sounds like a family conflict between father and son caused by a clash between old and new educational philosophies, and has nothing to do with Chen Cheng's motive for murder.

The South Captain doesn't seem like the type to ask such trivial questions during interrogation.

Was thinking about it.

"Xiaoshu."

The door was pushed open from the outside.

"Hmm? Forensic Doctor Xu, what's wrong?"

Nan Shu turned her gaze away from Chen Cheng and looked at Xu Yunli with a puzzled expression.

"Are you free? Would you like some tea?"

Xu Yunli gave her a gentle smile. Nan Shu: ?
ten minutes later.

Nan Shu sat opposite Xu Yunli, and she had to admit that the forensic doctor's tea-making skills were indeed excellent.

The same tea leaves, when she took them home and brewed a pot herself, tasted completely different from those brewed in fancy ways.

Xu Yunli set out the tea set and, while waiting for the water to boil, opened a drawer, took out a file, and handed it to Nan Shu.

"This is……"

Nan Shu was taken aback.

"Twenty years ago, the 11.08 dismemberment case was unsolved."

Xu Yunli said.

Nan Shu saw it on the cover of the file; she had seen it in the archives before.

What puzzled her was why a case from twenty years ago had suddenly resurfaced.

Is it because of Chen Cheng's dismemberment case?
Xu Yunli's gaze swept over the girl's hair tie, then he lowered his eyes and said, "I know you have many questions, but take a look at the case first, and I'll answer them one by one later."

"it is good."

Nan Shu was not in a hurry.

Based on past experience, reopening old cases is not so simple. If the only reason for reopening similar cases is to examine them again based on the fact that the body was dismembered, and to suspect that the same person might be the killer, then the detectives should not do anything else.

The fact that this file has been retrieved from the archives suggests that there may be other new discoveries.

Open the file folder.

The paper was yellowed, and even though it was relatively well-preserved, it still had a faint, musty smell.

The 11.08 dismemberment case once shocked the whole country, with many different speculations about the murderer.

But as time passed and the heat died down, the hope of solving the case became increasingly slim. Looking through the files, the black and white photos instantly pulled Nan Shu back to that winter twenty years ago.

The deceased, Wei Jiahui, was 21 years old. She graduated from vocational school at the age of 16 and worked in Guangcheng for four years. Twenty-one years ago, she came to Hangzhou to stay with relatives, who helped her get a job as a hotel receptionist.

The photo is very blurry, and you can hardly see her face at all. You can only see that the girl has a modern retro curly hairstyle, is wearing a cheongsam, and is smiling at the camera.

But that smile ultimately remained only in that winter.

At that time, let alone surveillance, even DNA testing technology was only introduced in some key provinces and cities, and Hangzhou only had one testing center.

Finding the identity of the deceased through dismemberment is like finding a needle in a haystack.

Although major local and even national media outlets were reporting on the case, it still took almost half a month to identify the deceased.

Hangzhou is a city with a large population flow, with many migrant workers. Household registration is done by community staff going door-to-door to collect data, which is tedious and time-consuming.

It was the landlord of the deceased, Wei Jiahui, who went to collect the rent. When he knocked on the door, he found that no one was home. He went to the hotel front desk to look for her and discovered that Wei Jiahui had not been to work for a long time. Sensing something was wrong, and recalling the news he had seen, he used the spare key to open the door.

I saw that the room was covered in dust, and there were half-washed clothes in a basin, the water of which smelled awful.

Only after confirming that Wei Jiahui was likely in trouble did they call the police.

The time of disappearance and the gender matched, so the police immediately took it seriously and contacted Wei Jiahui's family to come and do a DNA comparison, which eventually confirmed the match.

The file was only a dozen pages long. Nan Shu read it carefully, her gaze falling on the photo of Wei Jiahui's rented room that had been taken at the time.

The building has the architectural style of an old-fashioned tenement building. There is a wooden door and a window facing the corridor. Pushing open the door, you can see the bed against the wall. Clothes are hung in a thin wooden cabinet. There is no kitchen or bathroom. The washing area is only covered by a cloth.

A washboard sits on a red laundry basin, with the sleeves of a cotton-padded jacket still on it. Two pairs of long johns, already washed and wrung out, are in a bucket next to it, as if the homeowner was doing laundry when someone suddenly called them away, or perhaps remembered something and had to leave temporarily.

(End of this chapter)