Chapter 102

Crossing provincial borders makes cases more complex.

But for the “Wu Long Wild Man Case,” this means new leads might emerge.

Because all previous data and judgments were based solely on Shannan Province, Jiang Yuan and Liu Jinghui naturally wondered: could Pingzhou Province, several days’ travel away, hold new evidence or data?

The several days spent here were all on mountain hunter trails, suggesting the killer likely used these paths to move between Pingzhou and Shannan Provinces.

Previously, cases in Pingzhou Province had not been included in the scope of observation.

“First, go to Langgu County,” Liu Jinghui said, not letting opportunity cloud his judgment. At his current state, even if he rushed to the Pingzhou provincial bureau, proving his identity would be difficult—he might end up being mocked for years.

The group hurried down the mountain and alerted Langgu County’s local police station in advance, finally securing a vehicle with official clearance.

After freshening up at the guesthouse and looking presentable, Liu Jinghui borrowed a car and a driver and headed straight for Pingzhou. Jiang Yuan stayed behind, organizing the evidence, storing it in Langgu County—cold storage for what needed it, dry areas for what required it, and uploading anything possible to the internal network for comparison.

This process was extremely tedious, especially the paperwork: every form, every signature, not a single one could be skipped.

Jiang Yuan didn’t know Langgu County well, didn’t know the capability of its criminal science team, and dared not risk the critical evidence of this case on their pressure tests, so he followed every procedure to the letter, making the Langgu County Criminal Science Team’s captain swear nonstop.

A few hours later, after completing everything, Jiang Yuan collapsed into a deep sleep at the guesthouse.

When he woke up, Jiang Yuan found Liu Jinghui sitting at the foot of his bed, staring at him with eager anticipation—he jolted upright, shivering with a chill.

“You’re awake?” Liu Jinghui said, his expression like a visitor to a gravely ill patient, putting down his phone. “I checked: Li Sanqiu wasn’t the first victim. Last year, Pingzhou Province also found a corpse—shot to death, but the head was carried off by animals, and identity remains unconfirmed.”

“That’s pretty Biantai .” Jiang Yuan sat up, pulling the blanket tight.

“It’s extremely Biantai . These people treat murder like an everyday occurrence.” Liu Jinghui nodded in agreement.

“I’m not talking about them,” Jiang Yuan said, glancing at where Liu Jinghui sat—the man had brought his own chair over, seated like a mountain, clearly determined to wait until Jiang Yuan woke.

Liu Jinghui waved his hand. “No need to feel awkward. I know you’re exhausted; I let you sleep longer. Don’t feel guilty.”

Jiang Yuan had traveled with Liu Jinghui long enough to understand his nature. He sighed and asked, “How did you determine the corpse was shot? Same weapon?”

Liu Jinghui shook his head. “No. This corpse was hit by a shotgun pellet in the chest; steel balls are lodged in the ribs.”

“Ours were 9mm pistol rounds,” Jiang Yuan said—he didn’t understand ballistics; this conclusion came from the lab technicians.

From a case perspective, the difference between pistol rounds and shotgun pellets was significant.

In China’s current environment, anyone outside law enforcement possessing a pistol must be a dangerous individual. 9mm rounds were even more unusual—not like shotguns, which still have some legal ownership.

In some areas, hunting wild boar is still permitted. That may be one reason Pingzhou didn’t publicly investigate the shooting case.

Of course, the lack of a head and inability to confirm identity was likely the bigger reason.

Jiang Yuan got up, washed his face, and asked, “Are we merging the cases now?”

Liu Jinghui still refused. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Jiang Yuan looked at him. “Why?”

After all that effort, if they didn’t merge the cases, did they have to start over from scratch?

Liu Jinghui didn’t wait for Jiang Yuan to voice it. “Pretty much, yes. I’ve examined the Pingzhou case closely—it offers almost no new information. Merging it would just be a hassle.”

“What about the firearm evidence?”

“When we solve it and need to prosecute, let the prosecutors handle it themselves.” Liu Jinghui waved his hand dismissively, straightened his newly changed shirt collar and tie, exhaled deeply, and said, “Let’s walk the hunter trails again.”

“Again?” Jiang Yuan’s face fell.

This trip alone had cost him at least five pounds—had it not been for the rooster’s help.

Jiang Yuan recalled their journey and said, “We were careful all along. Walking it again won’t yield much new… What’s your new target?”

“Take a different route.”

“What route?”

“Reverse it,” Liu Jinghui said, enjoying the chance to demonstrate his reasoning. He counted on his fingers: “First, we know these are desperate fugitives.”

Jiang Yuan nodded.

Liu Jinghui raised his second finger. “Second, what’s their purpose traveling these trails? I’d guess three possibilities: drug trafficking, poaching, smuggling. I lean toward poaching.”

“And then?”

“Then, walking the trails again will confirm their route,” Liu Jinghui said. “I’ve already asked colleagues at the provincial bureau to help identify likely poaching paths. Then we’ll try to find more bodies…”

“If we find them, it proves they’re poachers?” Jiang Yuan understood Liu Jinghui’s logic.

Liu Jinghui nodded. “Poaching happens occasionally around Wu Long Mountain, but this group is likely deeply entrenched. If they kill anyone they encounter, they probably have many cases on their hands…”

Jiang Yuan listened, feeling utterly drained.

Not just walking the trails again was exhausting—it was the entire investigative approach that sounded exhausting.

Walk the trails again… and find bodies…

Bodies weren’t easy to find.

The two bodies discovered so far were found by chance. Even if other bodies existed—Jiang Yuan suspected others had indeed died near the trails—given Wu Long Mountain’s environment, the reason no one reported finding corpses wasn’t because no one encountered them, but because wild animals searched far more thoroughly than humans.

In short, Liu Jinghui had proposed an excellent theory—but proving it demanded exhausting labor!

Exhausting labor for someone else.

Liu Jinghui knew Jiang Yuan’s type well—technicians like him—but Jiang Yuan’s overall ability was unexpectedly strong. Liu Jinghui chuckled. “Either we catch them from the other end—target poachers, track the fences… If we go that route, I’d rather hand it to the local criminal investigation team.”

In his tone, Liu Jinghui’s demeanor grew even more superior.

Jiang Yuan drank another large gulp of water, slightly irritated. “So what’s your good method for finding bodies?”

Liu Jinghui countered: “What’s your method?”

“Get two more dogs?” Jiang Yuan said, even he knew it sounded implausible.

Liu Jinghui agreed. “The natural environment affects police dogs too much. The two cadaver dogs we used a few days ago were already top-tier.”

Jiang Yuan grimaced. “If dogs won’t work, what else?”

“I think you can find them,” Liu Jinghui told Jiang Yuan. “I have faith in you.”

Jiang Yuan looked up at Liu Jinghui, wondering whether being called “better than dogs” counted as an insult.

“Just kidding,” Liu Jinghui laughed. “This time, I’ll have someone buy some ready-to-eat food and some meat to bring along…”

“Let’s see that corpse first,” Jiang Yuan said. “The headless one shot by the shotgun.”

“Alright. I’ll prepare our gear,” Liu Jinghui said. He didn’t really think it was necessary—he trusted Jiang Yuan’s fingerprint skills and crime scene analysis far more than his forensic pathology.

This was normal. Young investigators often didn’t know their strengths when starting out; straying off course was common. Those who discovered their talent were already lucky.

Like Liu Jinghui himself—he’d discovered his strength was logical reasoning.

Still, Jiang Yuan doing the autopsy didn’t bother him. He made a quick call, and arrangements were made.

The next morning, Jiang Yuan arrived at Langgu County’s funeral home for his first out-of-town autopsy.

Langgu County’s forensic autopsy room was even more rudimentary than Ningtai County’s.

The autopsy table, aged and worn, resembled a cafeteria serving cabinet; when the corpse was placed on it, bodily fluids barely flowed downward properly.

The body was still thawing, inevitably showing signs of decay. Poor ventilation made the room’s odor even worse.

The Langgu County forensic pathologist, Li Zhen, looked ancient—skin wrinkled and clinging to bony muscles, appearing well into his seventies or eighties. Perhaps accustomed to the conditions, Li Zhen wore only a mask and handed Jiang Yuan one. “You requested it last night, so I pulled the body out. It was frozen solid, and still hasn’t fully thawed.”

The body had been found last year—meaning it had sat in the funeral home’s freezer for a full year. Skin still intact had turned bluish-black, with faint traces of decayed venous networks visible. This indicated decay gases had entered the bloodstream, staining the veins.

Jiang Yuan immediately pulled out his own gas mask. “I’ll use this.”

“You youngsters,” Li Zhen muttered. “Back in our day, we couldn’t even guarantee masks. Now I see people in full protective suits…”

“Conditions are much better now,” Jiang Yuan replied politely, then focused entirely on the corpse.

Li Zhen was about the same age as Jiang Yuan’s master, Wu Jun; they’d spoken on the phone earlier. Glad to avoid small talk, Li Zhen simply stated: “No head, no personal items to identify the victim. Middle-aged female, with childbirth history, tall—approximately 1.65 to 1.7 meters, weight around 60 kilograms, likely engaged in some physical activity.”

Li Zhen paused. His report matched what Jiang Yuan had read: basic anthropological judgments. Gender and age were relatively easy to determine; childbirth history was simple—most women who had given birth had one or more pea-sized grooves on the back of their pubic symphysis, called “delivery scars.” Presence meant childbirth; absence meant further examination.

Height, weight, and similar data were easily calculated from long bones.

Jiang Yuan felt slightly relieved. He feared Langgu County’s forensic pathologist might have deep forensic anthropology expertise—if so, repeating the autopsy would be pointless and wasteful.

But Li Zhen clearly lacked forensic anthropology skills—making Jiang Yuan’s decision to conduct another autopsy not just necessary, but essential.