Chapter 200: Visiting

As the case was solved, family members of the victims gradually arrived at the Qinghe City Public Security Bureau.

After Wang Guoshan was arrested, the authorities began to slowly leak the news.

The remains could not yet be claimed, nor was there any need to view them—they were all chilling skeletons; even if arranged neatly, ordinary people could not bear to look.

But that night, a couple still lit a pile of paper money above the autopsy room and cried out their daughter's name.

An old Taoist priest stood behind the couple, summoning the spirit.

The forensic autopsy room was inside the funeral home, but its exact location should be unknown to outsiders.

The couple must have been guided to the spot.

The only foreign forensic expert still remaining was Jiang Yuan; with the three local forensic experts from Qinghe City, they would finish handling the last two bodies and complete their mission.

At this hour, the outside was eerie and chilling; Wang Lan didn't want to go out alone, so she called Jiang Yuan to accompany her.

Both wore white lab coats, emerged from underground, walked over to the couple, and startled the spirit-summoning Taoist so badly he nearly lost his soul.

The kneeling couple saw them, dropped the paper money into the fire, and stood up.

The couple looked frail; the woman spoke first: "We are Zhang Xiaoyun's parents. Are you the forensic experts here?"

Wang Lan and Jiang Yuan exchanged glances and nodded.

"You've worked so hard," the woman forced a smile. "By the way, I'm Li Yun, Zhang Xiaoyun's mother. Our Xiaoyun… our Xiaoyun… could we see her? Just let us speak to her?"

"It's an unreasonable request, but we just want to see her…" the father added softly.

Jiang Yuan felt pity; he couldn't help thinking that if he faced such a tragedy, his father would be in the same state. Wu Army might, like this mother, hire a Taoist to summon the spirit and burn piles of expensive paper cars and paper planes.

Wang Lan's eyes were slightly red, yet she said: "Better not see her. Keep this hope in your heart…"

"No matter what Xiaoyun looks like now, I can accept it," Zhang Xiaoyun's mother hurriedly said.

Her gaze was resolute, full of maternal strength.

But Wang Lan remained unmoved. She had seen many similar families—understood their pain, admired their resilience—but the boundary between life and death could not be crossed this way.

Sometimes, letting a loved one live in imagination was better than seeing them with your own eyes or touching them with your hands.

"I… I just want to see my child… I just want to see her…" Zhang Xiaoyun's mother watched Wang Lan's expression, sensing the pity—and the refusal—more painful than outright denial.

Heart-wrenching.

"I shouldn't have let her go to school alone. I shouldn't have…" Zhang Xiaoyun's mother burst into sobs.

The husband pulled her tightly into his arms.

In the evening funeral home, the wind never ceased—it scattered voices, cooled the living energy, and extinguished life itself.

Jiang Yuan estimated the position of Zhang Xiaoyun's box, reached out, and turned the couple's direction.

He had placed the box himself; the orientation was correct.

Zhang Xiaoyun's mother paused, then quickly thanked him, gathered the remaining paper money, lit it, and murmured softly.

After a long while, the couple left.

Checking the time, it was already past eight at night.

Jiang Yuan and Wang Lan returned silently to the autopsy room and resumed work.

Solving the case was one thing; there was still much work left before closing it.

Two days later.

Jiang Yuan brought his own cooked rice soup with shepherd's purse to visit Mu Zhiyang.

Rice soup with shepherd's purse was also called baking soda soup; ingredients were simple—mainly rice soup and shepherd's purse, with baking soda added to soften the vegetable stems.

According to Jiang Yuan's newly learned skill, when resistance is weak, green feed, increased water intake, and baking soda are key. Also, eat small meals frequently—don't overeat.

Baking soda soup perfectly met the body's needs during recovery.

At the ward, Mu Zhiyang, with one leg in a cast and suspended, clearly loved the rice soup with shepherd's purse Jiang Yuan brought, praising it endlessly: "My family only gives me millet porridge—'good for the stomach,' 'nutritious'—I've eaten it every day, I'm sick of it."

"Drink half now, save the rest for tonight—reheat it. This kind of vegetable soup doesn't spoil with cooking; the longer you boil it, the better the flavor," Jiang Yuan didn't join Mu Zhiyang's complaints but first addressed food distribution.

Then Jiang Yuan checked the bed, inspected disinfection, examined the nursing chart hanging at the foot of the bed, and said: "You're recovering well. Does your leg hurt?"

"Not painful, just hard to walk," Mu Zhiyang sighed. "I just got over my injury and got hurt again—I'm just unlucky."

"If you say that, others won't be happy. You've earned at least a Third-Class Merit."

Mu Zhiyang chuckled, slightly embarrassed: "I didn't really do much—just showed up on the arrest day and didn't contribute much."

"The killer was found during our search, and you got injured during the arrest—that's contribution," Jiang Yuan said, then added: "You got hurt protecting me. If you hadn't stepped in front, the killer would've gone for me."

"No way, no way," Mu Zhiyang laughed heartily, waving his hand bashfully.

Jiang Yuan sincerely praised him a few more times.

As he said, the killer Wang Guoshan was indeed found during their search. Though anyone entering that agricultural machinery cooperative might have found Wang Guoshan, no matter how you put it, anyone could've missed him too.

Regardless of how it happened, in the arrest phase, Mu Zhiyang definitely earned merit.

Besides, he fired a warning shot, bravely fought the criminal, and was injured, ultimately ensuring the arrest succeeded—whether or not he earned merit, he certainly earned his leg's worth.

A Third-Class Merit was not too much.

For such a major case—with over ten bodies—two or three Second-Class Merits, five or six Third-Class Merits were entirely reasonable. Otherwise, future cases couldn't be handled.

In normal years, a city bureau might not encounter such a major case once in five years.

Once every ten years was possible.

Of course, nationwide, one must never underestimate human evil.

"I'll bring you some ginseng soup tomorrow. What else do you want? You can pick one dish," Jiang Yuan, seeing how pitiful Mu Zhiyang looked, decided to give him extra care.

Since his surgery, Mu Zhiyang had eaten nothing but bland food day after day; his taste buds were long gone. He swallowed hard and said: "Will ginseng soup be too much trouble?"

"No trouble—I've learned a new skill; this kind of vegetable dish is easy now." Ginseng today, priced by root, wasn't necessarily more expensive than white radish—it was practically a vegetable.

Zhu Jin's secret to caring for sows was boiling ginseng soup.

Four sows drank one ginseng soup costing twenty yuan; the daily food cost increased only slightly. It also indirectly increased their water intake, and sometimes, if the ginseng was large, family members could share some—perfectly suitable.

Mu Zhiyang was touched and hungry; after thinking a moment, he said: "Then I want your mixed stew again."

The mixed stew was dog food, and in flavor, it seemed to surpass Zhu Jin's skill.

Was it partly because of Level 5?

Jiang Yuan casually pondered it and agreed, saying only: "You can't eat too much mixed stew—I'll adjust the ingredients."

"Fine. Great!" Mu Zhiyang happily slapped his leg, his mood rising, and couldn't help speaking in Guo Degang's comedic tone: "Jiang Yuan, one day when I become captain of the Criminal Investigation Team, I'll assign you as captain of the Forensic Squad!"

Jiang Yuan couldn't help smiling, then called out: "Captain."

Mu Zhiyang didn't expect Jiang Yuan to play along so well—he burst into loud laughter: "Dismissed, rise…"

Jiang Yuan kept smiling.

Mu Zhiyang seemed to recall something, frowning slightly, and asked softly: "Behind me… is there another captain?"

Jiang Yuan slowly nodded.

Mu Zhiyang, having gathered seven days' worth of smiles, turned to look—and there, indeed, was Huang Qiangmin, smiling with a 44. -degree grin.

Huang Qiangmin lifted his chin slightly and smiled: "I happened to be on a business trip to Qinghe, so I came to visit Captain Mu."