Provincial Department 1.2
The night breeze carried the chill of early autumn. The glass door to the terrace was half-open, and Fan Jinci leaned against the railing, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.
Jiao Sinian stood half a meter to his side, holding a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, his gaze behind his glasses unfathomable.
“Do you know?” Jiao Sinian suddenly spoke, his voice so soft it was as if he were talking to himself, “On my first day of medical school, the professor showed the autopsy video of the ‘Harbor Dismemberment Case’ that you performed in class.”
The city lights in the distance reflected on his glasses, cutting his gaze into tiny specks of light.
“132 cuts, perfect joint separation, precise organ sampling…like a surgical operation.” He smiled and looked down. “From that day on, I thought—one day, I would stand in front of you and let you see my ‘work’.”
Fan Jinci didn't speak, but simply put the cigarette back in his pocket, his gray-blue eyes quietly gazing at the distant night.
Jiao Sinian took a document out of his briefcase and handed it to Fan Jinci.
“I’m the chief of the newly established ‘cutting-edge forensic center’ in City A.” He tapped the gold-embossed badge on his appointment letter with his fingertip. “They gave me three times the funding you received in your lab at University J back then.”
The document header prominently displays the logo – Lian Bio (City A Branch).
Fan Jinci's gaze finally shifted, but only for a moment.
"Congratulations," he said casually.
Jiao Sinian's fingers tightened slightly, causing the edges of the paper to wrinkle.
"Don't you have anything to say?" His voice trembled slightly. "Like... a warning not to go astray? Or mocking me for currying favor with Ryan?"
A night breeze ruffled the stray hairs on Fan Jinci's forehead. He turned and walked towards the terrace door, his voice as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather:
That's your choice.
As dawn broke, Jiao Sinian stood at the villa entrance, dragging his suitcase.
He glanced back at the second-floor window with its curtains tightly drawn, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I will beat you, Fan Jinci,” he whispered to the empty courtyard, “in your area of expertise.”
The wheels of the suitcase rolled over the stone pavement, making a soft, rustling sound.
From the second-floor window, Fan Jinci quietly watched the departing figure, holding a newly opened file in his hand—Jiao Sinian's background check showed that his mother was among the first volunteers in the Lane Labs' "M Series" project.
"Just let him go like that?" Yu Yan flipped the fried egg over, the spatula making a crisp sound on the pan. "The way that kid looked at you was like a hungry wolf eyeing meat."
Fan Jinci stuffed the file into the shredder, and the paper was cut into tiny snowflakes.
“Jiang Zhaoyan has people watching over City A.”
Li Weimian leaned against the kitchen counter, twirling a silver earring between her fingers: "Do you need me to do a psychological profile? For example... 'a paranoid admiration for the strong accompanied by a pathological competitive mentality'?"
The shredder stopped running, and Fan Jinci looked up out the window—the morning sun was rising from the horizon, casting long shadows of the sycamore trees in the courtyard.
“No need.” He turned and picked up his coat. “There are still three bodies waiting to be dissected in J Province today.”
.
At 7:30 a.m., a black official car slowly pulled up in front of the provincial government building.
The car door opened, and Fan Jinci stepped out, the morning light casting a cool hue on his silver-gray suit. Half a step behind him, Situ Jin carried two heavy briefcases, the hem of his white coat fluttering in the wind.
"There are three retests today, and the liver samples need to be redone for toxicology," Fan Jinci said without turning his head, his voice as cold as if he were reading a lab report.
Situ Jin nodded slightly, his gaze behind his glasses calm: "I've already contacted the laboratory to prioritize this case, and the equipment is ready to be used."
The two entered the hall one after the other, and the interns along the way made way for them, whispering among themselves—
"Teacher Situ is clearly capable of handling major cases independently, so why is she willing to be an assistant...?"
"You don't understand, that's 'Situ Jin of Fan Jinci'!"
Situ Jin paused almost imperceptibly for a moment, then quickly resumed his normal pace.
Under the operating lights, Fan Jinci's scalpel cut open the fourth intercostal space. Situ Jin handed over the bone shears at the right moment, her fingertips lightly touching his gloves as the instruments were exchanged.
“The liver is an abnormal color.” Fan Jinci picked up a tissue slide with forceps. “Doesn’t it resemble the pathological features of last year’s ‘fisherman case’?”
Situ Jin had already pulled up the comparison images on the tablet: "The similarity is 87%, but this time there is a new discovery—" He pointed to the microscope display screen, "There are more of these crystals between the liver lobules."
Fan Jinci leaned down to observe, his wisps of hair almost brushing against Situ Jin's glasses. As their breaths mingled, Situ Jin suddenly added softly, "...It matches the structure of the synthetic toxin mentioned in Jiao Sinian's paper."
The air suddenly froze.
Fan Jinci straightened up, his gray-blue pupils slightly contracting: "When did you find out?"
“Last night,” Situ Jin took off his glasses and wiped them, revealing a rare sharpness in his eyes, “while you were in the meeting, I reviewed all the samples.”
During his lunch break, Situ Jin was making coffee alone in a corner. He added two sugar cubes to one of the mugs and then took out a thermos and poured in half a cup of hot milk—Fan Jinci had a bad stomach and never said anything, but he remembered.
“Professor Situ,” the intern mustered her courage and approached, “your neurotoxin paper published in the *Journal of Forensic Medicine* had more citations than Chief Physician Jiao’s, so why…”
Situ Jin adjusted his glasses, the glare obscuring his eyes. "Data collection requires patience." He picked up two cups of coffee. "And the best observation location..."
Before he could finish speaking, the sound of instruments falling to the ground echoed from the dissection room. Situ Jin turned around instantly, his steps so fast they created a gust of wind.
The intern stood there, stunned, only to hear the second half of the sentence lingering in the air:
"...always the place closest to him."
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