During the Republic of China era, I achieved unparalleled success by returning to the past.

She lunged forward, her petite body gripping Song Beiyou's sleeve tightly with both hands, her expression panicked and anxious, tears welling up in her eyes.

Song Beiyou reached out to support her and said gently, "Don't rush, speak slowly."

Wen Yingxue wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes: "Awen hasn't been home for two days. I've searched everywhere he could have gone, but I haven't seen him. I wanted to go to the school to ask, but they wouldn't let me in."

Two days? Song Beiyou, remembering the bruises on Wen Yiwen's arm, lowered his gaze and asked, "Is he often bullied by his classmates?"

Wen Yingxue pursed her pale lips: "Awen has grown up now, and there are many things he doesn't even tell me. He was fine when he went to school yesterday morning, but he didn't come back last night. I was afraid that Dad would worry and his condition would worsen, so I lied to him and told him that Awen went to a classmate's house."

"I came to ask you for help early this morning, but you weren't home. Later, I came to the school alone to look for him, but the security guard at the gate wouldn't let me in."

Song Beiyou turned his head and looked at the public school gate not far away, where two Indians wearing green uniforms and red headscarves were chatting together.

"Come with me." He parked his bicycle on the side of the road and led Wen Yingxue toward the door.

The two Indians immediately noticed, and one of them, speaking in broken Chinese, warned, "No strangers are allowed to approach here!" He placed his hand on his baton as he spoke, his tone full of warning.

Song Beiyou took out a box of old knives from his pocket, pulled out two and handed them over, smiling, "I'm not a busybody. I have a younger brother studying here, and he didn't come home yesterday. I came to ask him what happened."

The two Indian men with red headscarves took the cigarettes, their mustaches twitching slightly. The one with the darker expression said, "The school doesn't provide accommodation. Students go home after school. You should look elsewhere."

Song Beiyou nodded and said, "I've searched everywhere else, but I couldn't find him. So I wanted to ask his teachers and classmates." Seeing that the Indian man was glancing at the cigarette pack in his hand, he smiled slightly and handed him most of the pack. "Please help me, brother. My little brother is missing, and as his older brother, I'm really worried."

The red-haired Indian man stuffed the cigarettes into his pocket, nodded and smiled, "Alright, what's your brother's name? Which class is he in? I'll ask him for you."

Wen Yingxue hurriedly added from the side, "His name is Wen Yiwen, he's in the first year of high school, in the top class of the teacher training program."

The dark-skinned Indian man glanced at her and said, "Wait a minute." He turned and went back into the security room to make a phone call.

Through the glass window, Song Beiyou saw him say a few words, then suddenly glance this way, a fleeting glint in his eyes—too quick to discern whether it was surprise or something else. Then he nodded repeatedly into the phone.

After hanging up the phone, he walked out the door, his face grim: "I just asked, there's no such student as you described. Get out of here right now! Or I'll contact the police and have you arrested!"

"You're talking nonsense! How could Awen not be studying here? He's in the first year of high school, in the top class of the teacher training program, and his head teacher is Teacher Zhou!" Wen Yingxue exclaimed in alarm.

The two Indian men exchanged a glance, drew their batons from their waists, and, their dark brown faces barking, shouted, "Get lost!"

Song Beiyou stepped forward, shielding Wen Yingxue behind him, and stared coldly at her: "Who were you talking to on the phone just now?"

"Don't stand here! Get out of here!" The two men brandished their batons, baring their teeth and brandishing their claws.

"Brother You, what do we do? Wenming clearly goes to school here; they're lying!"

Song Beiyou's gaze swept over the white walls of the public school, and he comforted her, "Don't worry, I have a way." Forcing their way in was not a wise move. Taking down two Indian thugs was a small matter, but it would cause a lot of trouble, which was not worth it.

"Song Beiyou?" A surprised voice came from behind.

Song Beiyou turned around and saw Chen Zhengwei getting off his bicycle. He immediately asked, "Is it really you? What are you doing here?"

"Detective Chen," Song Beiyou said with a smile, "you've come at the perfect time; I was just about to report a case."

Chen Zhengwei pushed the cart forward, his brow furrowed: "Don't cause trouble, this isn't a medicine parlor."

"Is Detective Chen judging people with prejudice?" Song Beiyou lowered his eyebrows and briefly explained the situation.

After listening, Chen Zhengwei turned to stare at Wen Yingxue, his eyes sharp: "Foreign-run public schools aren't cheap, are they? Does your brother have the means to attend?"

Suppressing her panic and anxiety, Wen Yingxue said, "Awen got in through self-study, and the school waives tuition fees."

Chen Zhengwei raised his eyelids, a look of surprise in his eyes. "You two wait here, I'll go ask him." He said, taking out his detective ID from his pocket and walking forward.

Ding-dong-dong! The deep, resonant chimes echoed throughout the school.

In an instant, the entire campus was like a floodgate opening, with groups of boys and girls in school uniforms pouring out.

Before I knew it, many rickshaws and even black sedans had appeared on the roadside. The students walked out of the school gate and dispersed.

Wen Yingxue kept looking at the school gate, hoping to see a familiar figure. Unfortunately, even as the school became deserted again, she still didn't see anyone.

Song Beiyou felt heavy-hearted. Chen Zhengwei hadn't come out after entering the security room, which meant something was amiss.

A boy in a dark school uniform with a stand-up collar walked to the door of the security room and called out, "Big Brother."

A moment later, Chen Zhengwei came out, his face grim. He pointed to the bicycle, signaling his underling to move aside, before walking over: "Come with me to the police station. I'll take my underling home first."

Wen Yingxue trembled: "Detective Chen, why are we going to the police station? Did Awen commit a crime?"

Chen Zhengwei lowered his eyelids: "You'll know when we get there. Let's go."

Song Beiyou, being very observant, noticed Chen Zhengwei's unusual expression. He immediately got on his bicycle, pulled Wen Yingxue along, and followed him home to take his younger brother before heading to the police station.

Back and forth, the sun had already set, and the last rays of light disappeared on the steep rooftop, as night descended like smoke.

"Brother You, will Wen be alright?" Wen Yingxue's voice trembled as she tightly gripped his sleeve.

Song Beiyou took her cold little hand in his own and followed Chen Zhengwei toward a small building behind the police station.

A vertical sign hung at the entrance, with white background and black lettering: Laboratory.

The door opened, revealing a middle-aged man with a sallow complexion wearing a white coat. He glanced at her with only a slit in his eye and said, "Awei, still working so late?"

Chen Zhengwei smiled and offered him a cigarette: "Uncle, you've worked hard."

The man in the white coat waved his hand and opened the door: "Come in."

Only a few dim light bulbs shone overhead. The group followed behind him, their footsteps echoing on the cold, hard concrete. No one spoke; the atmosphere was oppressively suffocating.

The strong smell of carbolic acid and preservatives filled the air. Song Beiyou held his breath and reached out to support Wen Yingxue, who was trembling all over. She wasn't stupid; she had already sensed that something was wrong.

Descending the stairs to the basement, the air grew even colder. The man in the white coat forcefully pushed open a metal door, and a strong stench of decay mixed with formaldehyde hit him.

The doctor in the white coat didn't seem to care. He turned on the light and went inside, calling out to Chen Zhengwei, who was frowning, "Come and lend a hand."

Two men lifted a stiff corpse wrapped in a white sheet from the morgue and placed it on the autopsy table. The man in the white coat pulled back the sheet and called out, "Come in, take a look!"

Wen Yingxue released her grip, her face blank, and walked in, staring blankly at the pale face on the stage. Her lips instantly lost their color and began to tremble. She wanted to say something, but couldn't utter a single word, only letting out a hoarse "Awen..." before collapsing to the ground.

Song Beiyou stepped forward and hugged her, gently patting her back. At that moment, he couldn't find any words to comfort her.

The man in the white coat slightly lifted his droopy eyelids, his sallow face expressionless, and said lightly, "The victim has arrived, so let's begin the autopsy."

He took a pen and an autopsy report from the table against the wall and handed them to Chen Zhengwei: "I'll tell you what to write."

"The deceased was male, approximately sixteen years old. His body was five feet one inch tall and underdeveloped. He was wearing an old blue school uniform, with the words 'St. Paul's Secondary School' embroidered on his left breast pocket. His clothes were torn in many places and covered in mud."

"His face was bruised and swollen, his lips were cracked, and two of his front teeth were knocked out."

Neck: No obvious abnormalities were observed.

"Chest: Large areas of cyanosis on the left rib area, old fractures of the fourth, fifth and sixth ribs can be felt, as well as displacement of the newly fractured bone ends. There is bloody froth coming out of the mouth and nose, and subcutaneous emphysema in the neck and chest."

"Limbs: Old fracture callus can be felt in the right forearm and left clavicle."

"..."

"Examination report: The deceased had numerous new and old injuries all over his body, indicating long-term abuse. Among the new injuries, the broken end of a left rib pierced the lung, which was the direct cause of death."

The voice of the doctor in the white coat was devoid of warmth, like a cold, sharp knife piercing into one's heart.

The boy who sold newspapers, whose handwriting was beautiful, whom I had only met a few times, and Wen Yiwen who gave him couplets, are now covered in wounds, lying on the autopsy table, a cold corpse.

Song Beiyou looked up. "Detective Chen, who is the murderer?"

Chen Zhengwei's jaw twitched, he gritted his teeth, and held back his words for a long time before finally saying, "I don't know. The school is willing to pay fifty silver dollars to take him back for burial."