Chapter 150: Danger

6: 0 p. .

After work, police officers in civilian clothes filed out of their offices, each heading home.

Breathing in the fresh air still steeped in sunlight, many felt as if they had stepped out of another lifetime.

Cold case reactivation.

According to past precedent, whenever such a case arose, everyone in the bureau had to run to the bathroom.

A special task force wouldn't sleep for two weeks in the office; all functional units would work overtime until dawn, and no one knew how to write the follow-up report.

Normally, a single homicide would tie up the entire bureau for a week and the task force for a month—that was standard.

It wasn't that the case would definitely be solved within a month; rather, by then, those who could be worn out were already broken, and unsolvable cases typically slipped into the cold case folder.

In the past, once a case landed in the cold case folder, it was nearly impossible to crack.

This was one reason why cold case homicides received such high priority.

The difficulty was absolutely enormous.

This was a cold case that had been solved, despite the special task force having failed to crack it earlier, even with all advantages.

Whenever a case led to another case, and a breakthrough emerged, there was always a wealth of material to study.

This case had been solved in just one day.

Not just the task force—even ordinary police officers found it unbelievable.

Many had already laid out their sleeping mats for the night, only to be told by superiors they could go home—and some even felt disappointed.

Sleeping in the office for a week was undeniably miserable.

But if you could be away from home for a day, avoid your wife, ignore your kids, and sleep alongside your colleagues, it was a rare joy in life.

Now, neither the good nor the bad remained.

The group walked out of the building, passed through the courtyard gate, and returned home as usual.

Their expressions were strange, inexplicable.

Jiang Yuan, however, felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Footprint identification lacked strong specificity, but its scope was broad—a valuable supplement to Jiang Yuan's current skills.

As Jiang Yuan walked down the street, he even observed pedestrians' gaits.

Men, women, young people, the elderly—all walked differently.

There was once a classic story: a footprint expert planned to write a book on the relationship between footprints and age, but he struggled to judge the footprints of people around twenty.

So he chose a stretch of road, observed passersby, and then saw a man around twenty suddenly jump up mid-walk.

The expert had an epiphany.

Jiang Yuan continuously verified his findings through footprints.

On the stretch leading into Jiang Village Community, part of the ground was being dug up; Jiang Yuan stared at the chaotic footprints and could guess who left certain ones.

For example, the one with a cane heading toward Building 1 was almost certainly Third Grandpa.

And the young woman's footprints—plump, broad, sturdy—immediately brought to mind Sixth Cousin.

Then there was the one carrying a heavy load, single-handedly bearing perhaps a hundred jin—exactly the weight of a corpse.

Jiang Yuan froze, then studied the prints closely.

The footprints on the ground weren't just one person carrying weight.

Jiang Yuan frowned. If it were just a young couple playing romance, one set of prints might be explainable.

Two sets of prints in sequence—what was going on?

Could it be a duo had committed a mass murder?

The more Jiang Yuan thought, the more dangerous it seemed.

Jiang Village Community was famously wealthy—and therefore a glaring target.

These days, highway bandits were rare; organized robberies happened only once every few years.

But for Jiang Village Community, if they could get rare seafood, they could just as easily get rare bullets.

Jiang Yuan's face darkened; he no longer rushed home, instead following the two sets of heavy footprints.

After passing the excavation zone, the prints continued for a while; when Jiang Yuan looked up again, he realized he had reached his own building.

At this point, there was no doubt—his home was the most dangerous place.

Jiangfuzhen was the richest in the entire town, and Jiang Yuan now had enemies.

Right now, the most sensible thing for Jiang Yuan to do was call the police.

But he couldn't wait any longer—he stepped into the elevator, and when pressing the floor button, deliberately skipped two levels.

The elevator doors opened; Jiang Yuan stepped out cautiously, glanced left and right, then climbed up the fire escape.

At his doorstep.

Voices buzzed loudly.

Jiang Yuan frowned again, peering out cautiously.

He feared most seeing a scene like the one at Uncle Seventeen's house.

His own door was open.

A crowd… seemed to be having a feast.

And they were cheerful.

Jiang Yuan exhaled softly, puzzled, stepping out from the fire escape.

"Far-ge, why'd you climb up?" Jiang Yongxin greeted people at the door and waved to Jiang Yuan.

"Jiang Yuan's back!"

In the hallway, uncles and aunts held wineglasses filled with cola mixed with white wine, smiling and nodding at Jiang Yuan; if not for their T-shirts, he'd have thought it was a Western wine party.

It looked like an ordinary feast.

And it probably wasn't for his own family.

Jiang Yuan wondered again—had someone gotten married and brought the bride and bridesmaids upstairs? Jiang Village customs didn't work that way.

"Jiang Yuan! Jiang Yuan!"

Yu Jiangshan and Jiang Fuzhen appeared together—but it was Yu Jiangshan who had come to Jiang Yuan's home.

Jiang Fuzhen grinned: "Your Uncle Yu is so generous—he brought a whole cow. I boiled it up."

Jiang Yuan suddenly understood and smacked his forehead hard.

He'd truly gone mad—scaring himself silly.

Who in their right mind would carry a corpse around, especially to his own house?

Now that he thought of it, gifting a whole cow made perfect sense.

Jiang Yuan still had one question: "Can our pot even fit a whole cow?"

"The legs and head weren't boiled—they were moved to the storage room."

"I thought so… the legs were cut off beforehand?"

"Yes, someone carried them up."

Jiang Yuan sighed. That made sense—a large cow leg weighed about the same as an outside girl—and cost about the same.

"You didn't need to give such a heavy gift, Uncle Yu," Jiang Yuan thanked him.

"Yes, I did," Yu Jiangshan said solemnly. "We were all scammed at the tea shop—not just me. When I told everyone I caught the scammer, they were all thrilled."

Yu Jiangshan looked refreshed, not at all like a man who'd just been swindled out of hundreds of thousands.

Jiang Fuzhen smiled silently, then turned to his son: "Soup or meat?"

"Both."

"Wait," Jiang Fuzhen returned to the kitchen, grabbed a large bowl, chopped several good pieces of meat from the cutting board, ladled in broth, poured the broth back into the pot, ladled again, added chopped scallions and garlic, then big grains of rock salt and black pepper…

A bowl of fragrant beef soup was ready.

Jiang Yuan lifted the large bowl, took a deep breath, every cell in his body crying out.