Chapter 108: Screening

Wenshang Township, Ningtai County, Qinghe City, Shannan Province.

Jiang Yuan got out of the car, looking at the strangely familiar surroundings, feeling a sense of warmth but also intense buttock pain.

Driving hundreds of kilometers in a Great Wall Cannon was absolutely a shockingly bad decision.

“Let’s go straight to the scene,” Liu Jinghui said. He was older, weak in stamina, with a bad back and low energy—his physical endurance had deteriorated badly; he couldn’t handle long hours of driving. If not for the case hanging over him, he’d already be lying on a hard bed pretending to be a corpse.

When first met, Liu had been as refined and prickly as a nationally protected red pheasant; now he looked like a plucked, scalded hen ready for the pot.

The young officer beside him replied, “Alright,” then added nervously in a whisper, “Director Zhang is here!”

Liu Jinghui looked up and saw Zhang Tao, Ningtai County Bureau’s deputy director in charge of criminal investigation, stepping out of the car and walking over to greet them.

Liu had no choice but to plaster on a wide smile and stepped forward with a wave: “Director Zhang, you’ve arrived.”

When working under the provincial bureau, raw ability alone won’t cut it—neither will brute force. You must know when to soften, and balance is best.

Jiang Yuan and the others waited patiently; his mind was already on the case.

A young officer beside him nudged his arm, gesturing for him to look over.

Jiang Yuan turned and saw Liu Chu was probably talking about him—Director Zhang was staring right at him.

He was still new, slightly nervous, but thinking of the system, thinking of his father, he instantly straightened up, posture becoming even more upright.

Director Zhang seemed to smile at them.

Warm, yet cold—Jiang Yuan couldn’t help thinking of his college beauty queen; her smile had the same effect: you always felt she was smiling just for you.

After a while, once the leaders finished chatting, everyone began climbing into the woods.

Compared to the dense forest of Wu Long Mountain, Wenshang’s woodland was like a toddler still barely poking its head above ground. The fast-growing trees stood tall and dense, but the undergrowth was sparse; walking through it was unobstructed, even pleasant.

Dappled light and shadow, a gentle breeze.

This made the few who had just come out of the old forest feel oddly uncomfortable.

After crossing a ridge, the woods began to block out the sky. Years of growth had brought this forest to maturity; though climbing up and down was still inconvenient, the paths were at least a meter wide and well-trodden.

“Setting fire here is suicide,” Liu Jinghui muttered as he walked.

“That’s why the case was opened quickly,” Director Zhang said. “We never caught the perpetrator. A shame.”

“Not every case can be solved. Our own case hit a dead end—that’s why we’re asking for your help,” Liu seized the chance to flatter.

“Oh, you’re too kind,” Deputy Director Zhang chuckled heartily. Everyone immediately joined in, laughter and smiles erupting instantly, lifting the mood to a peak—as if Liu Jinghui alone had made a dozen people burst out laughing. Impressive.

“Arson cases are always hard to crack. Honestly, even if I were handed a fresh arson case today, I couldn’t guarantee I’d solve it,” Liu smoothly shifted the topic. “This one? We need to stay sharp.”

“Absolutely, absolutely.”

After brief remarks, they arrived at the scene of the Wenshang Forest Fire case.

A patch of young trees had sprouted—tender, fragile saplings, so delicate you wanted to touch them.

Jiang Yuan and several forensic officers trudged through the flowers and grass, searching the burned area, but found no solid evidence.

The original arson had a small burn area, but because it was arson, the case gained importance.

Fingerprints collected at the scene never matched anyone in the database—the case eventually became cold.

Had it not been linked to Sun Jingyi’s murder, this arson case might have vanished into the cold case archive.

But now, regardless of its original outcome, it was tied to Sun Jingyi’s murder and the entire Wu Long Mountain series—so the suspect couldn’t disappear.

At this point, the origin of that bottle of Nongfu Spring had been fully traced—it was produced just months before Sun Jingyi’s murder, and its sales location and channels couldn’t rule out the suspect’s involvement. All these signs and coincidences were enough to excite the Special Case Team.

Since the Wu Long Mountain Wild Man case was discovered, leads have been scarce. Now new clues keep emerging, new murders keep surfacing—the Special Case Team’s visibility has skyrocketed, and so has the pressure.

At this moment, Jiang Yuan linking this old arson case to it was enough to revive everyone’s spirits.

Whether the arson case had any connection to Sun Jingyi’s murder,

if solving the arson case could solve the murder, and thereby unravel the entire series, the problem would be drastically simplified.

Saying the arson case was difficult, unsolved for years—that was only true if you treated it as an isolated case.

When the arson case became the key to multiple murders, its difficulty vanished entirely from Liu Jinghui and the others’ minds.

After a quick look at the arson scene, Liu Jinghui didn’t even consider any clever methods—he waved his hand and said, “Director Zhang, can we collect fingerprints from every adult in Wenshang Township?”

Wenshang had only twenty thousand permanent residents; fingerprinting them all wouldn’t take much time or effort.

For solving a murder, there are cases where entire townships have been subjected to DNA matching—fingerprints are far cheaper.

Of course, if anyone could now propose a clever method to save the provincial bureau and Ningtai County hundreds of thousands in case expenses, they’d earn a big red flower—or several.

But no one—not even Jiang Yuan—spoke up.

Cold cases are never that easily solved with cleverness. If you can solve them with money, count yourself lucky.

Fingerprints couldn’t be collected under the guise of solving the case, but such matters didn’t require Liu Jinghui’s concern—the township government had plenty of mature, calm, clever plans.

Afternoon.

Banners reading “Create a Provincial Model Township for Fingerprint Work” were already hung—and not a single word was false.

Liu Jinghui had secured this very slot for them—the only one in the entire province.

Wenshang was thrilled. This was a provincial honor, with the word “model” clearly implying progress. What the details were—did that even matter?

To show seriousness, the township government sent out a truckload of apples, placing them beside the busiest intersection. After fingerprinting, each person received one apple on the spot—and could choose their own—causing a line stretching hundreds of meters.

Provincial Bureau’s Liu Jinghui instructed on-site: “Learn from the Baiyin case—strictly prevent anyone from fingerprinting on behalf of others…”

Wenshang assured: “We will focus surveillance, leveraging grassroots cadres’ familiarity with local residents, implementing unit responsibility and assigned accountability for both outsiders and permanent residents…”

Ningtai County mobilized nearly everyone, rushing to Wenshang to monitor all roads, especially the mountain access routes.

Pretty romance

For this kind of case, Liu Jinghui had his own ideas and experience—he didn’t believe covert investigation or stealth surveillance would go smoother. Sure, it cost less, but he was a detective—why should he waste time calculating such economic figures?

Let the bureau chief yell later.

Right now, Liu Jinghui believed a sudden strike stood a better chance of catching the suspect.

Even if fingerprinting yielded no results, it would still drastically narrow the scope for Liu.

Because Wenshang was remote, far from Wu Long Mountain, and its forest had no direct link to Wu Long Mountain’s.

At this point, if fingerprints matched between the two areas, Liu didn’t believe it was coincidence.

In fact, his gut told him this person was the killer—and very likely a resident of Wenshang.

Wu Long Mountain’s old hunting trails weren’t completely deserted, but only herb collectors, hikers, and “hiker-killing squads” ever walked them. An arsonist appearing coincidentally hundreds of meters from the victim’s grave? The odds were too low.

Wenshang’s forest was even less attractive—no potential for poaching or smuggling.

Liu Jinghui’s plan: if they couldn’t get the suspect’s fingerprints, they’d reverse-check Wenshang’s household registrations—start with video collection, eliminate migrant workers, and the remaining population would be small.

This would be costly and labor-intensive, but Liu had experienced and organized far larger-scale investigations—he didn’t think twice about it.

The collected fingerprints were handed to forensic technicians for input into the fingerprint database for comparison.

By the next afternoon, the main arson suspect remained elusive, but they’d caught a few petty thieves…

Liu Chu was under heavy pressure.

Jiang Yuan was under heavy pressure too.

Still, he seized the chance to rest—sleep first, always.

Next morning.

The laughter and play of children next door at the guesthouse woke Jiang Yuan.

Jiang Yuan slowly got up, sat by the window, watching the innocent, adorable children outside, feeling a surge of inner joy—he pulled out his pen and notebook and jotted down:

Income: Travel allowance with Provincial Bureau’s Liu Jinghui: 3600 yuan. Father’s yuan (eat well), yuan (treat leaders to meals), bank transfer work allowance: yuan. Total:

Expenses: Treat leaders to water: 20 yuan. Treat leaders to chicken at a farmstay: 800 yuan. Online purchase of protective suits, masks, mosquito nets, and other essentials: 6100 yuan. Personal food upgrades: 4800 yuan. Total: yuan

New surplus: yuan.