Chapter 191: Fragrance

The conference room was filled with swirling smoke, like a celestial realm.

In the corner were two potted plants of unknown species, their leaves yellowed.

The case analysis meeting progressed quickly, mainly because there was little to analyze.

This kind of matter doesn't benefit from having more people.

The autopsy report was unremarkable; its conclusions required substantial resources to investigate further.

The information gathered was insufficient, and further investigation had no clear direction. The brigade commander could only urge all parties to keep pushing forward.

Finally, they confirmed one direction to trace the plastic bags' origin, and the meeting essentially ended.

As everyone was leaving, Liu Jinghui whispered to Jiang Yuan: "Let's talk alone."

Wang Lan heard and shot Liu Jinghui a sidelong glance.

Liu Jinghui laughed: "If you want to join, come along."

"Not going," Wang Lan waved dismissively and walked off.

Liu Jinghui stepped out first, waited for Jiang Yuan in the hallway, then said: "Let's grab something to eat outside the police station. We can chat a bit about the bodies. Anything you fancy?"

Jiang Yuan's mind was full of corpses, so he replied: "Frog."

Liu Jinghui paused, then found a "Jumping Frog" restaurant on the map and hailed a taxi.

The restaurant served food quickly—almost as soon as they ordered the spicy fragrant frog, it arrived.

The frog pieces, transformed by red chili peppers, became tender and appetizing.

Jiang Yuan picked up a piece, ate it, then picked up another and ate it, spitting the bones onto a large flat porcelain plate.

After a few bites, Jiang Yuan had arranged the bones on the plate into the shape of a frog.

Lifelike.

Liu Jinghui had no appetite to begin with; now he lost it entirely. He put down his chopsticks and said: "I don't have much faith in how the special task force is handling this."

"Huh? Why?" Jiang Yuan hadn't expected Liu Jinghui to bring up the task force first.

Liu Jinghui had been holding back for two days, so he spoke: "The Qinghe City Bureau has no experience with cases like this. They're not applying enough force—they'll mess it up."

Jiang Yuan said: "I don't get it."

"From my experience, when dealing with these kinds of murders, even if the case is eight years old, once it's discovered and activated, you must strike with thunderous force—use methods more intense than those for active cases. Otherwise, you'll easily fail."

"Why?"

"Because this isn't even a cold case. It's a case that was hidden, the killer hidden—and hidden for ten or twenty years. Now the case has surfaced, meaning something has changed, maybe even the killer made a mistake. You must seize this change and mistake, or the next opportunity might come another ten or twenty years. I once had a case…"

"The change is the drought," Jiang Yuan said.

Liu Jinghui shook his head: "One thread pulls the whole fabric. We know the reservoir dried up from the drought—does the killer not know? He might already be planning to flee. If he left before the case was made public, how would we know? We might miss him entirely…"

Jiang Yuan finally understood: in essence, Liu Jinghui was dissatisfied with Qinghe City's Criminal Investigation Brigade's direction and methods.

But from Jiang Yuan's perspective, he didn't see much difference between speed and slowness.

Since ancient times, slow has its own bitterness, fast its own thrill—balance is the way.

Liu Jinghui's frustration might have merit, but Jiang Yuan didn't care—he ate the frog carefully, then arranged the bones.

Liu Jinghui watched him assemble three frogs, neatly and cutely laid out… then said: "The biggest evidence right now is the bodies. Would you like to look for trace evidence? I can get the provincial lab to assist."

The forensic pathologist assigned to this case was Wang Lan, but in Liu Jinghui's view, for a case of this level, seniority didn't matter.

Jiang Yuan, still eating frog, said: "The body bags are fully saturated. Organic matter inside has mostly degraded. Inorganic matter… the corpse fluid has already been sampled. We can run it through a mass spectrometer later, but it's probably useless."

Liu Jinghui sighed.

"We've just started. Confirming identities will take time. There are six bodies—we can't guarantee we'll identify all, but we have a good chance of confirming two or three more," Jiang Yuan reassured him.

Liu Jinghui was slightly surprised: "Bodies 5 and 6 are headless. I thought they had no hope."

"Not much difference. We can just do broad-range investigations like with Body 1."

"Broad scope doesn't scare me—as long as we find something, I support you," Liu Jinghui said immediately.

Jiang Yuan nodded: "I'll go back and do a deeper analysis…"

"But even so…"

Jiang Yuan looked at him, said nothing, and kept eating frog.

Liu Jinghui was talkative, a detective who lived by reasoning—he couldn't hold back words inside him.

Sure enough, Liu Jinghui quickly added: "I don't believe in starting from interpersonal relationships. Too many dead people—it's abnormal. No one kills this many acquaintances…"

His final remark revealed a truth: when too many victims are involved, interference increases—the social circle clusters become unreliable.

Liu Jinghui went on, voicing his worries.

Detectives often become emotionally unstable during investigations.

Some, unable to express themselves, smoke cigarette after cigarette; others eat packet after packet of instant noodles. Some, like Liu Jinghui, are quiet with strangers but gradually open up around familiar people.

Jiang Yuan listened for a while, then finished the entire pot of frog, and reminded Liu Jinghui: "The boss gave us fewer frogs."

"How do you know…" Liu Jinghui stopped mid-sentence. Of course—he saw the bones on the plate, each arranged neatly: more upper bodies, fewer lower ones…

"Boss!"

Liu Jinghui shouted, ready to argue with the owner.

The owner came over, saw the frog bones laid out on the table like fallen gangsters, and quickly said: "Our frogs are pre-chopped. I'll give you a 15% discount."

With the saved money, Liu Jinghui bought a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes, and with a slightly happier, more eager mood, saw Jiang Yuan off to the funeral home.

…

In the autopsy room, several forensic pathologists were diligently assembling bodies—their movements identical to Jiang Yuan's frog-bone arrangements.

Of course, Jiang Yuan was taller, stronger, younger, and looked cooler while assembling—so you could call it "Cool You Ji Frog."

"Ate yet?" Jiang Yuan entered, coolly greeting everyone.

"No appetite," said Ye the forensic pathologist, who had rested a day, staring at the pot boiling bones, his face weary.

"I saw instant noodles outside. Why not boil some?" Jiang Yuan, full, decided to show some respect.

Ye the forensic pathologist replied without gratitude: "Which stove?"

Both high-power burners were occupied by pressure cookers, hissing loudly, refusing to budge.

Even for forensic pathologists, boiling instant noodles next to a pressure cooker was unbearable—the steam condensed into droplets; even if it was distilled water, it was still unacceptable.

"Then let me make you a bowl?" Jiang Yuan hadn't even moved yet, but he peeled off his gloves—he could still go out and make instant noodles.

Ye the forensic pathologist hesitated slightly. The others nearby immediately called out:

"Make me one."

"Please, add a sausage."

"Add sausage and egg."

Jiang Yuan counted heads, nodded, and went out to cook.

Even if Liu Jinghui was impatient, he couldn't let a whole room of forensic pathologists starve. If they died of hunger, it'd be an unnatural death—and only increase the burden on the living.

Outside, two new boxes of instant noodles had just been delivered—bucket-style, easy to prepare.

Jiang Yuan opened one box and saw large characters on the bucket: "Bone Broth Noodles."

Jiang Yuan silently put it back, opened the second box: "Bone Broth Concentrate." Below it was an illustration of a boiled trotter, with a warm note: "Each granule is a concentrated, rehydrated bone broth instant."

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yuan pulled the first box back, took a bucket, poured in water, then turned and grabbed a roll of tape labeled "CAUTION," covering every word on the bucket.

When the noodles were ready, a few minutes later, four forensic pathologists, clean and fresh, emerged one by one.

Jiang Yuan, fully dressed, entered the autopsy room.

The Qinghe City Bureau's forensic assistant was a young man in his twenties, wearing glasses. He smiled politely when Jiang Yuan entered.

"Why didn't you eat noodles? I made you one," Jiang Yuan said.

"Let them have it," the young man smiled, then added quietly: "I bought the noodles. Only these two kinds were left in the whole case."