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Jiang He seemed not to hear Captain Wang's words. He continued to tug at his hair, tightly closing his eyes, his expression twisted in pain. Soon, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Everyone present was at a loss; although they did not know what had happened, it was clear that Jiang He was suffering greatly.
At that moment, all the memories and details flooded into Jiang He's mind like a tidal wave. If one were to compare Jiang He's mind to a bucket, it felt as if the entire Pacific Ocean was contained within it.
"Jiang He, Jiang He," Captain Wang said, patting Jiang He's shoulder in an attempt to understand what was wrong with him.
Suddenly, Jiang He opened his eyes. The bloodshot gaze was filled with agony, but in the next moment, he returned to normal. "It's nothing. Based on my overall observation of the scene, I have a sixty percent probability that a third person has definitely been here."
Wang Chao looked at Jiang He, who seemed like a completely different person from moments ago when he was in distress. The signs of madness still lingered on his face, yet Jiang He appeared completely unaware of this fact. Ignoring the astonished looks from others, he continued, "So we are still far from the truth."
Although the evidence at the scene suggested that Wu Guifeng had killed He Hui Juan and then committed suicide, all the detectives present felt that this unknown officer named Jiang He might actually be correct.
In a short amount of time, Jiang He had convinced all the police officers present with his exceptional observational and analytical skills.
The only exception was Xu Yiman.
Xu Yiman had not witnessed Jiang He's thorough analysis process and therefore could not understand why everyone would listen to a man dressed in ill-fitting clothes who appeared disheveled and unkempt. Moreover, she knew that Wang Chao was the Squad Leader of the Criminal Investigation Team.
However, Xu Yiman remained silent. She had always been unable to tolerate those who did not take care of their appearance; in her eyes, a lady should converse with gentlemen. If she were to categorize Jiang He at all, calling him a rogue or a scoundrel would be generous—after all, this frail man lacked both the cunning and the capability.
"What happened? What is going on?" A man's voice broke through the tension.
Then came another voice trembling with emotion: "This is... this is my mother... this is... this is my wife..."
After uttering those words, Li Weiyi closed his eyes and fainted. When he regained consciousness, he found himself surrounded by three people: Xu Yiman, Jiang He, and Wang Chao. Li Weiyi glanced around and realized he was lying on a bed in another bedroom of his home. His eyes were vacant as he surveyed this space that belonged to him.
Xu Yiman looked at this thirty-year-old man and thought that Li Weiyi's actual age must be closer to forty. His skin was darkened by years of exposure to the elements, and numerous wrinkles marred his face. His short hair concealed several strands of white hair, giving him an overall appearance of fatigue.
"Perhaps he thinks this is all just a dream," Xu Yiman mused silently as she observed this pitiful man. "Maybe he believes that when he wakes up, his wife will still be by his side and his mother will still be there."
The man quickly came to terms with reality as he looked at the three people standing before him.
Yet, he still found it hard to believe and asked, "Is this all real?"
Li Weiyi's voice trembled, and he spoke slowly. Xu Yiman wished she could tell him that this was all just a dream, but there was no way to do so.
"Your wife, He Hui Juan, and your mother, Wu Guifeng, were found dead in your home," Jiang He said. "They died around three o'clock, which means they passed away around eleven this morning. Where were you at eleven o'clock?"
Li Weiyi clearly recognized the interrogative tone in Jiang He's voice. His emotions surged, and his face turned red: "You—what the hell? Are you saying I killed my wife and my mother? Are you even human? Get lost!"
With that, Li Weiyi lunged forward to strike Jiang He.
For any man facing such a situation, being accused of murdering his own wife and mother would be unbearable. Even the most honest person would struggle to accept it. Impulsive Li Weiyi was quickly restrained by Wang Chao. However, in his agitated state, Wang Chao could only signal for Jiang He to step outside until Li Weiyi calmed down.
But Jiang He stood his ground. Xu Yiman couldn't bear it any longer; she grabbed Jiang He's arm and pulled him out of the room to the staircase.
"How can you be like this?" Xu Yiman glared at him, fists clenched. "Someone is going through such a tragedy; how can you think this is appropriate right now?"
Jiang He remained unmoved, listening to Li Weiyi's angry shouts from inside. He replied, "What? Is there a problem? I have a thirty percent chance of believing that Li Weiyi has returned. You haven't fully assessed the scene yet, so you don't know some details. The scene..."
Xu Yiman looked at Jiang He, growing increasingly frustrated. She retorted sharply, "I am a Forensic Doctor, not a detective. I only examine the bodies to provide useful information for you. But you must understand that these bodies were once living people; they had families and emotions. I believe anyone who respects life wouldn't speak like this in front of the deceased's relatives."
With that, Xu Yiman walked back into the room. Just as she stepped through the door, she turned back and said, "I'm not targeting you; I understand your actions. Investigating is important, but there is already so much darkness in the world. If we can preserve even a little kindness, we should try to keep it."
As a doctor and a Forensic Doctor, Xu Yiman had experienced more life and death than most people. She understood that the loss of a life was far more than just becoming a corpse. She grasped this truth, but Jiang He standing at the door did not.
Xu Yiman's words had no effect on Jiang He because he wasn't even listening to her. In his mind, he automatically drowned out her voice and focused solely on Li Weiyi's cries.
Amidst Li Weiyi's alternating shouts of anger and sorrow, Jiang He was unable to extract any useful information. Aside from the meaningless cries and curses directed at the murderer’s ancestors, all that remained were futile lamentations. Captain Wang Chao, despite his best efforts to console him, found that Li Weiyi could not be calmed.
Only after managing to soothe Li Weiyi's emotions could the police conduct a brief inquiry. The questions were simple: Did he have any enemies? Was there anything unusual when he left home? Li Weiyi's responses were consistently negative—an emphatic no.
As Li Weiyi answered the questions, Jiang He observed him closely.
Li Weiyi was dressed in a simple black suit, with a white shirt underneath and black leather shoes on his feet. At first glance, he resembled one of the countless office workers in the city. However, Jiang He focused on details that others might overlook—those easily ignored nuances.
The black suit appeared to be priced around a hundred yuan; based on Jiang He’s experience, he was certain it would not exceed three hundred yuan. This was evident from the coarse fabric. The suit looked somewhat dull, but it did not seem like it had been worn for years without washing.
Peering inside the collar of the suit, Jiang He noticed that the white shirt was wrinkled and slightly yellowed at the collar. It was clear that this shirt had been worn for some time. There were also some black specks on the suit pants, which Jiang He identified as rubber residue. The leather shoes looked worn out as well; the heels showed significant wear, yet Li Weiyi had not replaced them.
Jiang He regarded Li Weiyi and mentally tagged him with several labels: frugal, unadorned, and poor at communicating.
This reminded him of someone—Li Weiyi's mother, Wu Guifeng.
These labels could almost be applied to Wu Guifeng herself.
Wu Guifeng wore poorly made pants, likely crafted from petroleum-based materials. Her green short-sleeve shirt was ill-fitting and clearly belonged to her son. On her finger was a thimble, an item used for sewing.
Instead of wearing a ring, Wu Guifeng had a thimble on her finger—the most beautiful ring time had bestowed upon her.
The ever-present thimble symbolized Wu Guifeng's attitude toward life: save whenever possible. Yet this trait clashed with another person’s perspective.
Wang Chao spoke up, "I won't waste words; I promise you that I will do my utmost to find the murderer quickly and bring justice for your family. That is all I can do. But I also hope you can cooperate with us because we need your assistance to catch the murderer as soon as possible."
Li Weiyi nodded in response.
"Wang Chao" spoke up, "Then let's do it this way. You go back and give us a detailed statement, and we'll investigate the scene a bit more."
As they passed by "Jiang He," "Li Weiyi" shot a fierce glare at him.
"Wang Chao" sighed and patted "Jiang He" on the shoulder, saying, "Don't take it to heart."
"Jiang He" shook his head. "It's not that I care about this, but have you noticed that something is missing from this house? It's something everyone has. Well, 'Wu Guifeng' might not have it, but 'He Hui Juan' definitely does."
"Wang Chao" suddenly recalled a riddle he had heard during his university days: "What is something that men have but women do not?"
"Do you have this thing?" "Wang Chao" scratched his head.
"I do."
"What about me?" "Wang Chao" asked again.
"You have it too."
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