Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Dawn.

Jiang Yuan arrived early at the forensic laboratory, brewed himself a cup of tea, tidied his desk, and began his day’s work—examining specimens under the microscope.

The bloodstained clothing, submitted as evidence, had been cut into several pieces for Jiang Yuan to collect pollen under the microscope.

Unlike what many imagine, forensic scientists rarely aim to preserve evidence in its original state. Common items like bed sheets or pillowcases from crime scenes, when tested for blood or semen, are simply cut into fragments and soaked in reagents for further analysis.

Similarly, paper contaminated with other substances is handled the same way.

Some may feel uneasy about this destruction of the original state, but consider this: during evidence collection, investigators rarely retrieve the entire original item.

For instance, a bedsheet from a murder scene doesn’t need to be fully packed up—let alone all four bedding pieces. A forensic technician would normally cut out just a small piece.

Whether evidence is missed depends entirely on the investigator’s field expertise. Generally, if there’s any doubt, they’ll collect extra items; otherwise, a single fragment suffices as evidence.

Of course, the volume of evidence collected also scales with the case’s importance.

In minor cases like petty burglary with low monetary value, collecting extra evidence isn’t even an option—even if the evidence room stays silent, the plaintiff won’t tolerate a truckload of belongings seized over a few thousand yuan.

Jiang Yuan picked up pollen grains one by one.

Pollen sizes vary greatly: the smallest is about four micrometers long, the largest up to two hundred micrometers in diameter; shapes include spherical with spines, abalone-like, triangular, and many others.

Overall, a Level 1 forensic botanist can easily distinguish pollen types, but technicians below higher levels face many difficulties when identifying specific species.

For cases, Level 1 forensic botany offers almost no direct clues—maximally, it can verify evidence or narrow down the scope when dealing with a single pollen type.

Level 2 forensic botanists have significantly enhanced identification ability but still require constant reference checks. Needless to say, in such a time-consuming task, constant reference-checking means progress grinds to a halt.

At Level 3, most pollen no longer requires reference checks—or at least not extensive ones—greatly increasing practicality.

Jiang Yuan’s forensic botany is already at Level 4; he can identify many pollen types at a glance. For common pollens, he can even distinguish common ornamental subfamilies—something that, to experts, would warrant a Buddhist chant.

Thus, forensic technicians in the same lab noticed Jiang Yuan collecting pollen nonstop, without consulting any reference materials, simply jotting notes in his notebook.

The TN-brand leather-bound notebook looked like something a naive office worker might use, but Beijing Bureau forensic staff all had some grasp of modern cutting-edge tech—training across regions always followed Beijing’s lead—so this seemingly unscientific behavior made several technicians suspicious.

“Could this be fake?” someone’s suspicion system kicked in.

Detectives doubt eight hundred times a day, and that’s being generous. Even with Jiang Yuan’s famed reputation, suspicion remained unavoidable—after all, the Hugge case’s lead investigator was once called the “Mongolian Detective,” yet the case turned into a mess.

“Xiao Li, go check on him,” the senior forensic technician murmured to the young technician beside him.

Xiao Li stood up, feigning boredom, and walked over to Jiang Yuan’s side.

On Jiang Yuan’s notebook, a row of plant names had already been recorded, several marked with five-pointed stars: Narcissus, Water Lily, Tiger Thorn…

Xiao Li involuntarily glanced over, silently wondering why these particular plants were marked.

At that moment, Jiang Yuan lifted his eyes from the microscope, glanced at the technician beside him—as if reading his thoughts—and wrote “Hyacinth” on the notebook, added a five-pointed star, and said: “The marked ones are all toxic plants.”

“Ah?” Xiao Li’s surprise came half from Jiang Yuan’s words, half from feeling his thoughts exposed.

Jiang Yuan had indeed guessed his thoughts. He’d been working in the field for over a year; most situations he encountered were the same.

Especially technicians—they’re more skeptical. Laypeople don’t understand technical depth; they assume fingerprints and DNA yield automatic results. Technicians know better: some tasks are mind-numbingly difficult, like certain math problems—you’re clueless, believe someone can solve them, but don’t expect that someone to be standing right beside you.

Jiang Yuan pressed his eyes back to the microscope and said: “The pollen collected so far is mostly from domestic plants, including multiple toxic species. There are also vegetable pollens—cucumber, chili, eggplant, luffa, pumpkin, scallion… The owner likely has a patch of outdoor space.”

At this, several forensic technicians in the office turned their attention toward him.

The senior technician, Guo Xiang, stood up and asked: “Why not someone living near a vegetable garden?”

“Because indoor ornamental plants dominate, their varieties are extremely diverse, and vegetable gardens rarely mix toxic plants.” Jiang Yuan paused, then added: “Overall, the pollen profile resembles someone growing flowers and vegetables on a balcony—mixed and varied. Vegetable gardens tend to cultivate fewer species.”

This was Jiang Yuan’s inference. Guo Xiang didn’t press further, merely asked curiously: “What does cucumber pollen look like? Can I see it?”

“This one,” Jiang Yuan showed Guo Xiang the cucumber pollen he’d collected.

Under the microscope, cucumber pollen was pale green, slightly oval and irregular, densely wrinkled, with three uneven yellow grooves; the thickest groove featured a more irregular connection.

Guo Xiang studied it carefully, committed it to memory, exchanged a few polite remarks, returned to his seat, and searched the internal forensic botany database for cucumber.

It matched exactly.

Still not fully convinced, Guo Xiang searched for Narcissus, chili, and other plant pollens, memorized their appearances, then returned to Jiang Yuan’s side, sat beside him, and used another microscope to examine the pollen he’d sorted.

It matched again.

Guo Xiang exhaled, then felt deeper suspicion—he scrutinized Jiang Yuan from head to toe and said: “I just checked—there are 250,000 species of angiosperms. You can’t possibly remember the pollen of every single one. That’s absurd.”

“How could I?” Jiang Yuan laughed.

Guo Xiang laughed too.

Jiang Yuan said: “There are patterns.”

Guo Xiang’s smile faltered: “250,000 species?”

“Of course not. For uncommon types, you still need to identify the species before making judgments,” Jiang Yuan replied, blending truth with evasion.

But to Guo Xiang, Jiang Yuan’s modesty now felt impenetrable.

As a technician who had verified the results, Guo Xiang could only accept Jiang Yuan’s conclusions.

“So, if we rule out vegetable gardens, the suspect is someone who grows vegetables at home?” Guo Xiang began discussing concrete leads.

Jiang Yuan paused briefly, then said: “Actually, no need to overthink it. Let’s fly a drone first, centered on where the bloodstained clothing was found. Given these flower and vegetable types, the clothing likely didn’t come from a purely indoor environment—it needs ample sunlight and sufficient space to grow so many plants. Purely indoor conditions would require exceptional lighting.”

“So, balcony gardening or rooftop gardening,” Guo Xiang summarized.

“Or possibly a community green space or a Sihe Academy courtyard,” another technician added.

Guo Xiang nodded agreeably and said: “Then, Jiang, could you file the request? For drone flights, we need to consider surrounding conditions—I don’t recall any flight restrictions nearby.”

Jiang Yuan knew this was Guo Xiang avoiding taking credit. He shrugged: “Call it yourself. Coordinate within your team. Besides, the forensic botany leads can only come from me—you can’t steal them.”

He said it so plainly, leaving Guo Xiang slightly exasperated.

Guo Xiang didn’t waste more words—he pulled out his phone and dialed.

At that moment, he realized: this was the first real breakthrough since the case began.

Guo Xiang glanced back at Jiang Yuan. It had been barely a day and a half—he hadn’t seen Jiang Yuan exert himself much, and the results seemed modest—but the leads were real, and for the detectives, that was all that mattered.