Provincial Department 1.1
At 8:45 a.m., in the conference hall of the Provincial Public Security Bureau, the lights were cold and white, the long table was covered with dark blue velvet, and the nameplates for the seats were neatly arranged.
Fan Jinci's name was placed in the deputy position—on par with the director—while the other city criminal investigation team leaders were listed in descending order of their jurisdiction numbers.
Yu Yan sat at the seventh seat, impatiently tapping the table with his fingertips. His gaze occasionally swept towards the front, where Li Weimian sat diagonally opposite him. The silver earring in her right ear gleamed coldly under the light. She was flipping through a file, a slight smile playing on her lips, as if she had already seen through the undercurrents behind this meeting.
And Fan Jinci—
He stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference hall, his grey-blue pupils reflecting the morning light outside. An unlit cigarette was held between his slender fingers, and he was as aloof as an ice sculpture.
When the director pushed the door open and came in, everyone immediately stood up, except for Fan Jinci, who simply turned his head slightly and nodded.
The bureau chief didn't mind at all; instead, he smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Professor Fan, have a seat."
Before the meeting began, the door on the other side was pushed open.
Jiu Sinian—the chief forensic doctor specially appointed by the provincial department, wore a crisp white coat, and his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses was sharp and arrogant.
He walked straight to the seat next to Fan Jinci, but deliberately paused for a second before sitting down.
"I've heard so much about you, Professor Fan." He extended his hand, his voice deliberately humble. "I've always wanted to communicate with you... but unfortunately, I haven't had the chance."
Fan Jinci glanced at him, did not shake hands, and simply gave a faint "hmm".
Jiao Sinian's hand froze in mid-air, a shadow flashing in his eyes.
Yu Yan sneered from below, while Li Weimian gently shook her head, as if to say, "He brought this upon himself."
The director turned on the projector, and a set of bloody crime scene photos appeared on the screen—"J Province Serial Dismemberment Case." All the victims were precisely cut, with not a single extra scar at the joints, and the method was almost artistic.
“This case requires the assistance of a top-notch forensic expert.” The director looked at Fan Jinci. “Professor Fan, what’s your opinion?”
Fan Jinci looked up, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather: "The murderer is 175-178cm tall, left-handed, and his profession may be related to surgery or anatomy."
The entire room fell silent.
A few seconds later, hushed whispers arose from below—
How did he figure it out at a glance?
"Nonsense, he's Fan Jinci..."
"Chief Jiao's face looks terrible..."
Jiao Sinian suddenly stood up: "Professor Fan, isn't it too arbitrary to draw conclusions based solely on photos?"
Fan Jinci ignored him and simply pushed a document in front of the director: "Trace element analysis of the soil at the scene showed that the murderer's shoes had a special preservative made by the medical school laboratory on them."
Jiao Sinian stood frozen in place—his intern had just received this medicine last week.
After the meeting, criminal investigation teams from various cities couldn't help but surround him, with one cautiously asking, "Professor Fan, may I ask you a few questions?"
Before Fan Jinci could speak, Yu Yan had already squeezed through, casually placing his arm on the back of the chair behind him, and coldly swept his gaze over the crowd: "Line up."
Li Weimian chuckled and tapped the case file with her fingertip: "Don't scare the children."
Jiao Sinian stood not far away, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses fixed on Fan Jinci's back with a gloomy expression.
He held a carefully prepared report in his hand, but didn't even have a chance to speak.
And Fan Jinci—
He didn't glance at Jiu Sinian once, as if the other person didn't exist at all.
As dusk settled, the streetlights cast dappled patterns of light on the stone path. Fan Jinci had just pushed open the ornate iron gate of the villa when he saw Jiao Sinian leaning against a sycamore tree not far away, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers.
He wasn't wearing a white lab coat today; instead, he wore a dark gray trench coat, and his gold-rimmed glasses gleamed coldly in the dim light.
As Fan Jinci approached, he straightened up, a half-smile curving his lips.
"What a coincidence, Professor Fan." Jiao Sinian exhaled a smoke ring, his voice deep. "I didn't expect you to live in this area too."
Fan Jinci didn't stop walking, nor did he even glance at him: "Get out of the way."
Suddenly, Jiu Sinian reached out and blocked his way.
“I’ve studied all your papers.” He leaned slightly forward, his breath carrying a faint scent of tobacco. “Especially that one, ‘Neurotoxins and the Rate of Brain Tissue Decay’…it’s truly brilliant.”
Fan Jinci finally looked up at him, his gray-blue pupils reflecting the cold light of the streetlights, like a bottomless icy lake.
"so?"
Jiu Sinian chuckled softly, lightly tapping his temple with his fingertip: "I'm just curious—what exactly is in the mind of a genius like you?"
A night breeze rustled through the air, lifting stray hairs from Fan Jinci's forehead. He glanced coldly at Jiao Sinian, his voice calm to the point of cruelty: "None of your business."
In the living room, Yu Yan was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, toying with a military knife in his hand. Seeing Fan Jinci enter, he raised his chin and asked, "Who's that guy at the door?"
“An insignificant person.” Fan Jinci took off his coat and hung it on the hanger, revealing a neatly pressed black shirt underneath.
Li Weimian brought out three cups of coffee from the kitchen, the silver earring on her right ear sparkling under the light: "Jiao Sinian, a specially appointed forensic doctor of the provincial department, earned two doctoral degrees at the age of 28." She paused, the corners of her lips curving slightly, "Unfortunately, the number of citations for his papers is not even a fraction of Fan Ge's."
Yu Yan chuckled, his military knife twirling gracefully between his fingers: "Then why did he stop you? Was he looking for a beating?"
Fan Jinci didn't answer, but took the coffee, took a sip, and frowned slightly: "Too sweet."
Li Weimian shrugged: "The sugar cubes Jiang Zhaoyan sent were 'specially for your bitter coffee'."
Yu Yan's face instantly darkened.
At 1:30 a.m., the lights were still on in the study on the second floor of the villa.
Fan Jinci was organizing case files when he suddenly heard a slight "click" sound outside the window—it sounded like someone had stepped on a tree branch.
He put down his pen, walked silently to the window, and lifted a corner of the curtain with his fingertips.
Under the moonlight, Jiao Sinian stood in the shadows of the garden, holding a small camera with the lens pointed at the villa's window.
Fan Jinci narrowed his eyes, about to turn around, when he heard Yu Yan's voice behind him:
"Should I throw him out?"
Before anyone knew it, Yu Yan was already leaning against the door of the study, holding a police baton in his hand, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous cold light.
Fan Jinci lowered the curtains, her voice calm: "No need."
He walked back to his desk, took out a scalpel from the drawer, its blade gleaming coldly under the light.
"I'll do it myself."
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