Chapter 1
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It was two in the morning in early winter, and the snow had begun to fall. Snowflakes drifted in through the cracks in the window, which had never been closed, and got under the collar of Old Zhao, who sat with his back to the window, making him shiver with cold.
He quickly stood up to close the window, and then found that there seemed to be someone standing outside the dark window.
The man stood with his back to the light, his silhouette illuminated by the streetlights in the police station yard. His clothing and features were unclear. He was short, slightly hunched, and a man. He neither came in nor left, simply standing outside the window, facing Old Zhao.
Even though he couldn't see the man's face or eyes clearly, and wasn't even sure if he was looking at him, Old Zhao was still so frightened that his breath stopped for two seconds, and his hand that was closing the window also stopped breathing. However, the next moment, Old Zhao slowly closed the window tightly, turned around and sat back down as if he hadn't seen anything.
After decades of police service, this was Lao Zhao's last night shift. Tomorrow, after work, if he walked through this door again, he'd have to report to the archives office, with only a year until retirement. Less trouble is better than more. If that person didn't come in, it was none of his business. He could just pretend he didn't see it.
Moreover, based on his intuition gained from many years of experience as a frontline criminal police officer, he felt that this man's case should be quite troublesome.
In the middle of the night when it was snowing, there were people standing in the yard of the police station, neither human nor ghost, neither coming in to report the case nor leaving. Either they had not decided whether to call the police or the problem could not be solved by calling the police. It was troublesome either way.
"I'm old, and my eyesight is really not good anymore..." Old Zhao muttered to himself, moved his reading glasses upwards on his nose, and moved closer to the computer screen to drag the mouse.
After playing Go for another five minutes, Lao Zhao looked back, but the figure was gone. If it were a horror movie, he would have seen the man standing in front of his computer desk, maybe even with his face pressed against the back of his head.
Thinking of this, Lao Zhao couldn't help but slow down his breathing, slow down his movements, and twist his body to turn back little by little.
There was no one at the table, nor at the open glass door. Old Zhao breathed a sigh of relief, slightly ashamed of his own cowardice. He'd been a police officer for decades, and yet he was still such a coward. If those brats knew, they'd laugh him to death.
Just a few seconds after I breathed a sigh of relief, a series of dragging, dull footsteps came from the door.
Old Zhao resigned himself to his fate and exited the Go game, retrieving his police call notebook from a nearby file rack. While everything was automated these days, fifty-nine-year-old Old Zhao was still accustomed to pen and paper. The last night shift had indeed been a struggle.
The person who reported the case claimed to be an operator at Donghe Refining and Chemical Company, named Liu Dong, 42 years old.
It took Old Zhao over ten minutes to get these three pieces of information. The man had been standing outside for so long that his lips were frozen and he shivered every time he spoke. He spoke a lot, but Old Zhao couldn't understand a word. Hot water, a small blanket, and hand warmers were all it took for him to finally understand.
When asked about the reason for reporting the case, Liu Dong said that someone wanted to kill him.
01
Zhao Guoliang was not a person who believed in fate. However, when he saw the face of the deceased, this old policeman who had received decades of materialistic education and was about to retire in a year felt for the first time that fate might really exist.
On his last night shift as a police officer, he received Liu Dong's report. He had been retired to a support position for over a month, and today, due to a shortage of field officers, he was temporarily drafted to the scene to fill in. Of all the "elderly, weak, and disabled" officers in the archives, his name was chosen. And the deceased was Liu Dong, the person he had received the call and had withdrawn the report.
If this isn’t fate, what is?
Zhao Guoliang wasn't an official; he was just an ordinary police officer with decades of experience. There was no such thing as a demotion for losing his integrity in his later years. He couldn't afford to be demoted. But making a misjudgment that indirectly led to the death of the reporter was still stressful for him—he had a sense of pride.
At this point, he had to consider another possibility: what if he hadn't asked Liu Dong to withdraw the case that day? What if he had insisted on filing a case for him? With more investigation, would Liu Dong have died, or would he have died so quickly?
Zhao Guoliang squatted on the ground and covered the deceased's face with the white cloth. When he stood up, he scared the police officer who was taking pictures and collecting evidence.
"You know him? You look so grim."
"Not really." Zhao Guoliang muttered in response, unable to hide his guilty conscience.
"So I've seen him." Technical Detective Chen Jingzhou put down his camera and approached Zhao Guoliang with a quivering eyebrow. "Where did you see him? When did you see him?"
Chen Jingzhou was a notorious gossip-monger. From the smallest details like the captain stepping in dog poop to the biggest news like the director being criticized, there was no gossip in the team he wouldn't dare pry into. Zhao Guoliang often felt that his behavior was a waste of such an elegant reputation.
"Let's talk about it later. Just do your job well!" Zhao Guoliang said angrily.
There was nothing to hide, but he just didn't want to say it, at least not now.
As the year draws to a close, the bitter winter snow falls, like a rush to meet year-end KPIs. Spending more than ten minutes outdoors chills you to the bone.
In this weather, the emergency center personnel withdrew after confirming Liu Dong's death. Unnatural deaths are not the responsibility of the medical system. Aside from the Donghe Refining and Chemical Company personnel, only the police and the Emergency Management Bureau remained at the scene, the latter being the key parties involved in this incident.
When the police received the call, it was about a fatal accident at Donghe Refining. Since it had been classified as an "accident" rather than a "case," the police were no longer involved. The dispatch was merely a confirmation process. That's why they sent Lao Zhao, who had already retired from field work, and Chen Jingzhou, who was still on probation.
If it wasn't Zhao Guoliang who came, this would have been 100% an "accident".
So, even though fate is invisible and intangible, it always makes its presence felt at crucial moments. It doesn't care who believes in it or not.
"The lips and nails are gray-blue, the conjunctiva is congested, the throat is swollen, and there is foamy liquid in the mouth. It should be hydrogen sulfide poisoning. The details will be revealed after the autopsy." The forensic doctor finished the preliminary examination, stood up and said to Zhao Guoliang while taking notes.
"Then there's no way around the accident. Let's go, sign and call it a day. We're freezing to death..." Chen Jingzhou brushed off the snow on his police hat and turned to walk towards the person in charge of Donghe Refining.
Zhao Guoliang grabbed him and said, "Wait a minute, I'll make a call."
Before Chen Jingzhou's eyes lit up with gossip, Zhao Guoliang walked away a few steps with his cell phone in hand, warning him with his eyes not to come closer.
Chen Jingzhou curled his lips and turned to chat with the forensic doctor.
"Uncle Zhao is about to retire, but he's still so dedicated to his work. He always asks his superiors for permission before doing anything and refuses to make any mistakes."
"If everyone is as naive as you, your entire team can retire." The forensic lady rolled her eyes at him and continued to write down the records with her head down.
"What do you mean by deceiving? This hydrogen sulfide poisoning you mentioned, if it's not an accident, then what is it?" Chen Jingzhou's eyes widened, his face filled with dissatisfaction. "Who would kill people with hydrogen sulfide? The concentration and spread cannot be controlled. Are you crazy?"
"You can't guarantee that he has an antisocial personality. Just poison as many people as you can." The forensic doctor wore gloves and waved a pen in front of Chen Jingzhou.
"No, Uncle Zhao must have other ulterior motives. He is about to retire, and why is he causing trouble for himself? There must be something wrong! He seems to know this person..." Chen Jingzhou said as he moved towards Zhao Guoliang.
Zhao Guoliang was talking on the phone with his back to him and didn't notice there was an extra ear behind him.
"Yes, his family suddenly came and said that he was talking nonsense due to too much mental stress." Zhao Guoliang frowned, and his wrinkled face looked more compact.
"No, Captain Yu, I was on the last night shift that day... No, no! That couldn't have happened. I didn't persuade him to drop the case. It was his wife who persuaded him to drop the case himself..."
"Yes, they withdrew right then and there, saying they'd just pretend we hadn't been there. They told me not to contact the company, fearing it would affect their work. So I didn't record it in the system... Yes! I'm going back to find the original records now. Okay, okay, got it."
He turned around and almost bumped into Chen Jingzhou's head.
"Tsk, kid, why are you so gossipy!" Zhao Guoliang slapped Chen Jingzhou on the head before he could retract it, but missed.
Chen Jingzhou quickly held his hat with one hand and held Zhao Guoliang's hand with the other. He was afraid that he would not hit the person well enough and would fall again. His arms and legs were old, and he didn't want to get an industrial injury before retirement.
"Liu Dong reported the case? What was the reason? Did he think he was going to die?" Chen Jingzhou asked mysteriously in a low voice.
This kid might be gossipy, but his IQ is still up to par. If the report wasn't about life and death, he wouldn't have rushed to call and get scolded. Zhao Guoliang snorted and rolled his eyes at him as a reply.
"So, is this an accident?" Chen Jingzhou frowned, and a rare look of embarrassment appeared on his slightly immature face.
"It's hard to say. Anyway, the accident report won't be signed for now. I'll go back and you protect the scene." Zhao Guoliang put away his phone and motioned for Chen Jingzhou to go and say hello to the people at the refinery.
"I'm alone?" Chen Jingzhou pointed at himself and looked at Zhao Guoliang in surprise.
"What? Are you afraid someone will beat you up?" Zhao Guoliang looked at him incredulously, as if he were mentally retarded. "I'll be right back."
"No, I..."
Before Chen Jingzhou could finish his words, Zhao Guoliang had already jumped into the car, slammed the door shut, and rushed out.
"I'm still an intern." Chen Jingzhou murmured and finished his unfinished words, feeling a little aggrieved.
The medical examiner walked over and said, "We're leaving too. We'll contact you when the report comes out."
Chen Jingzhou was startled and quickly grabbed the forensic doctor's sleeve, saying earnestly, "Sister."
"There's no point in calling mom. The body needs to be removed quickly. If it's left outside any longer in this temperature, the estimated time of death will be wrong." The forensic doctor patted his shoulder comfortingly. "We're just protecting the scene. We're not asking you to catch the criminal. What are you afraid of?"
That makes sense. Chen Jingzhou thought about it and suddenly felt that this was an opportunity. What if he could find a useful clue? Thinking of this, his eyes lit up. He glanced at the two groups of people standing not far away and felt that none of them looked good.
He put on his gloves again, walked to the manhole where the deceased was found, and was about to go down by holding onto the edge of the well.
"Officer Chen."
A cold voice came from the gaps in the falling snow, as if sending the cold air into people's ears. Chen Jingzhou shivered inexplicably.
"The confined space gas detection period has expired. If you want to send someone down again, you'll need to do a new gas analysis. Or, you can carry this on your back."
Chen Jingzhou raised his head and saw an air respirator in front of him, almost occupying his entire vision.
Seeing Chen Jingzhou's confused expression, Ding Xinqiao slightly curved his eyebrows, gave a professional smile, and introduced himself:
"Emergency Management Bureau investigator, Ding Xinqiao."
"Ah, hello, I'm Chen Jingzhou from the Criminal Investigation Detachment."
Chen Jingzhou hurriedly stood up, took off his gloves, rubbed his hands on his pants, and then shook Ding Xinqiao's hand - these were a pair of intellectual hands, only the middle finger holding the pen had a slight callus, and the knuckles were bony and slender.
Ding Xinqiao's handshake was delivered with just the right amount of politeness, neither dismissive nor overly warm. Like the eyes above his mask, they were clearly smiling, but only in form, their depths as still as a dry well.
Chen Jingzhou inexplicably disliked his eyes. This feeling was so irrational that Chen Jingzhou himself felt like he was going crazy, and he immediately suppressed the feeling in his heart.
"You'd better wear a mask. Theoretically, the residual amount of hydrogen sulfide in the well is not enough to spread outside the well, but what if?" Ding Xinqiao pointed to his face wearing a mask.
"Can masks protect against hydrogen sulfide?" Chen Jingzhou wondered.
"It's better than nothing." Ding Xinqiao said helplessly, "We can't ask everyone here to recite empty words. It would be inconvenient to speak."
Chen Jingzhou had never worn an air respirator before, but he knew just by looking at it that it was heavy. The half-man-high cylinder alone weighed nearly ten pounds. With the mask on, it was hard to recognize anyone standing across from him, let alone talk. Curious, Chen Jingzhou figured it would be a shame not to try something new since he was already here.
"Let me try. How do I carry this?"
Seeing Chen Jingzhou pull the air respirator straps over his shoulders, Ding Xinqiao was stunned. He had just said casually that he had never intended to let this person go down the well, but who knew that this person would actually carry him.
This is the first time I've seen someone so tactless.
Ding Xinqiao lowered his head and pressed his mask against his nose. When he looked up again, his professional smile returned. He raised his hand and beckoned over an operator who had been waiting nearby.
"Teach Officer Chen to recite the air call." After giving the order, Ding Xinqiao turned around with a smile.
Chen Jingzhou's insensitivity was sky-high. He didn't notice Ding Xinqiao's indifference at all. He just thought that Ding Xinqiao was busy with other things. He even took the time to come over and remind him that he was a good person.
Ding Xinqiao lowered his head, treading through the snow as he walked toward his colleague. He didn't really want to go over. He'd only noticed Chen Jingzhou was about to go down the well because he'd been distracted by someone else's conversation. But he'd rather listen to nonsense than be taught to recite empty phrases.
The same old refrains have been repeated over and over for years: "lack of safety awareness" or "inadequate job skills." Whenever a company experiences a safety incident, no matter the size or type, these two catchphrases are always applicable and irrefutable.
Even if they could refute it, who would dare to do so? At such times, the companies involved would almost kneel down and listen to the lecture.
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