Chapter 984: He Killed

“Don’t make too much, I’ll just have a bite.” Director You sat down and added a special reminder.

But when the boss says it’s simple, how could subordinates dare to actually keep it simple?

So, everything available that day was served to Director You: from hearty dishes like dry pot chicken and dry pot pork intestines to lighter meats like dry pot pork ribs with shrimp and dry pot bullfrogs—all vivid reds and yellows, steeped in rich spices, irresistibly tempting to the hungry.

Director You was actually hungry too, and didn’t bother with formalities; he picked up his chopsticks and joined Jiang Yuan and the others in eating.

For officials at his level, simply joining in the people’s joy is far more effective than any speech or conversation—it’s like a beauty’s AOE damage, immune to the ED middle-aged crowd.

“The pork intestines are delicious—soft, tender, and not greasy at all,” Director You praised, putting down his chopsticks. “Too bad I can’t eat more—I need to watch my weight; I’ve already eaten too much today.”

Director You patted his belly, looking slightly regretful.

“Why not have a few more bites? After a bit of work, it’ll all digest.” Jiang Yuan replied casually.

Director You looked at Jiang Yuan with envy and shook his head. “That’s the fast metabolism of the young. When I was your age, I used to eat two full bowls of rice in one sitting—now? Even two extra bites and my weight goes up the next day.”

Jiang Yuan chuckled lightly; he felt his emotional intelligence was a bit off today.

Tao Lu quickly chimed in with a smile: “Director You is truly disciplined—you’ve kept your figure so well. Remember last time, you came second in the five-kilometer run.”

“The guy who came first got lost—he thought I couldn’t run that slow, so he sprinted ahead too early, silly guy,” Director You laughed. At his age, running five kilometers is already impressive; rankings don’t matter much—even if others let him win.

Jiang Yuan quickly shoveled a few more bites into his mouth.

He’d only eaten a little so far, and the workload ahead was enormous. It’s easy to wrongfully accuse someone, but proving their innocence is incredibly difficult.

As Director You said, among the dry pot dishes, the pork intestines were the most delicious—rich, thick broth combined with an unmatched texture, making this dish far superior in overall flavor to dishes like cheese-covered lobster.

If cuisine had a tech tree, pork intestines would require unlocking at least Level 5 on the pig technology branch.

Only pig’s trotters could rival them, but in terms of invention and preparation difficulty, trotters are far inferior to intestines. In ancient times, it would have taken centuries of research to perfect the latter.

Watching Jiang Yuan eat so enthusiastically, Director You picked up his tea and sipped it slowly, gazing at him as if the act of drinking could somehow satisfy his own hunger too.

Tao Lu, perceptive as ever, realized that since the boss was now enjoying the “food vlog,” there was no need to force conversation.

Wang Chuanxing’s update arrived late, reaching them just as the city lights began to glow.

Several photos were uploaded to the computer screen, drawing the men together to examine them.

Jiang Yuan didn’t touch the mouse; he simply gave orders: “Zoom in on the suspect’s hand—left hand.”

Though the technician lacked advanced image enhancement tools, this kind of task was second nature to him.

Jiang Yuan then methodically examined each hand, one by one.

Director You quickly lifted his gaze from the screen to Jiang Yuan’s face, reading his expression to judge whether success had been achieved.

Tao Lu shifted his attention to Director You’s face and quickly realized: this was just another kind of food vlog.

“It’s probably him,” Jiang Yuan said after reviewing the photos, still unsatisfied. “Can’t we find any other photos?”

“People from the 90s didn’t live long enough to see digital cameras become common—there are hardly any adult photos. The family kept only these few, some even cropped from group photos at work,” replied Shen Yaowei. Wang Chuanxing had found the photos, scanned them, and was still out searching.

Jiang Yuan nodded, then turned to Director You: “Based on this, Li Dianzhong is clearly the direct perpetrator of the Jianmen Courtyard murder. He must have trained extensively in the flying claw technique—or exceptionally well—given the heavy calluses left behind. Unfortunately, the previous task force had no such information and couldn’t pursue this lead.”

“How did he die?” Director You remained seated, clearly not satisfied with just this.

Finding the killer was important, but the Jianmen Courtyard case clearly had a mastermind behind it—and if there was one, it had to be investigated, even if success wasn’t guaranteed.

“High fall,” Jiang Yuan replied. “At the time, the factory was downsizing, and Li Dianzhong was a non-regular employee—he’d have been among the first to be laid off. So everyone assumed he jumped out of despair, and there was a big uproar over it.”

“They just exploited him and didn’t care whether it was suicide or not,” Shen Yaowei cut to the core.

In front of Director You, Jiang Yuan refrained from speculation and simply said: “Wait for the autopsy photos and the original forensic report—then we’ll see where this case goes.”

“From a high fall, can the autopsy determine if it was suicide?” Director You, being knowledgeable, asked the most critical questions.

Jiang Yuan paused thoughtfully, then said slowly: “It’s difficult—but it’s possible.”

Seeing Director You stay silent, Jiang Yuan elaborated: “High fall cases have been studied extensively. There are many factors to consider. If it’s homicide disguised as a fall, every single detail must align—and that’s extremely hard to achieve.”

“Go into detail,” Director You smiled. “When I was still on the job, forensic experts always struggled with high fall cases.”

“Conditions are different now,” Jiang Yuan said, not caring whether Director You was just curious or preparing to report later. He gathered his thoughts: “Forget surveillance—purely from a forensic standpoint, first consider the landing position and posture. Common impact points are the head, feet, or buttocks; the exact location must be analyzed comprehensively.”

Director You nodded: “High falls and low falls differ.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Yuan replied with a touch of emotional intelligence. “We can also examine whether all injuries were caused by the fall. In homicides, defensive wounds or signs of prior assault are common.”

Jiang Yuan: “Second, I lean toward physical and mathematical analysis. For instance, free-fall physics dictates certain patterns—some scholars have derived formulas linking fall height to horizontal distance; we can directly apply them.”

“How exactly?” Director You asked with unusual precision—he was determined to see results tonight, even if it meant staying up all night.

Jiang Yuan, seeing this, fetched paper and pen: “Currently, the Shaw and Hsu methods are widely used. Simply put, the maximum speed a person can achieve jumping from a standing position is 3.77 meters per second; if running, it’s 9.15 meters per second. So, by measuring the horizontal distance from the fall point, we can determine whether the person ran before jumping—if they did, it’s likely suicide.”

Jiang Yuan: “Also, wind speed affects displacement—male and female bodies have different displacement patterns…”

Jiang Yuan: “Finally, we must consider rescue efforts and post-mortem handling…”

Director You listened, then finally gave up: “In short, what’s the probability of determining suicide or homicide? And how long will it take?”

Suicide and homicide require very different follow-up procedures.

At that moment, Wang Chuanxing sent over a large batch of photos: scanned autopsy images of the suspect after the fall, along with the corresponding forensic report.

“Wait a moment,” Jiang Yuan said, rapidly scrolling through the photos. In China, most bodies are cremated, so the ashes are useless—photos are the best evidence.

Director You smiled slightly in surprise and picked up his tea cup again.

In the time it took to drink half a cup of tea, Jiang Yuan had finished reviewing the photos and looked up: “It’s definitely homicide.”