Excuse me for interrupting your kindergarten debate.
"I said, this case is under my jurisdiction."
Yu Yan's voice was like ice, his fingers tapping a dangerous rhythm on the conference room table. The criminal investigation team's conference room at eight in the morning was filled with the heavy smell of coffee and gunpowder.
The man standing opposite him wore a custom-made suit with his tie hanging loosely, as if mocking the police uniform regulations. Jiang Zhaoyan—the only son of the Jiang Group, the newly appointed deputy captain of the criminal investigation team—was casually scanning the case board with his charming eyes.
"Is this any of your business?" Jiang Zhaoyan chuckled, his finger tracing the latest victim's photo. "With your snail-paced crime-solving speed? If it weren't for Forensic Doctor Fan, you'd still be clueless about last week's dismemberment case."
The officers in the conference room held their breath. Jiang Zhaoyan was the first person to dare speak to Yu Yan like that.
Yu Yan clenched his fist under the table, but a cold smile appeared on his face: "Deputy Captain Jiang, since you're so concerned about the case, why don't you go and catch up on the reports you missed last week? Or does Young Master Jiang think the police station is your private property?"
"Isn't that right?" Jiang Zhaoyan tilted his head, revealing an innocent yet cruel smile. "When my dad donated this building, he did seem to have naming rights, didn't he?"
The air froze. Everyone knew about the Jiang Group's influence over the police station, but only Jiang Zhaoyan, this troublemaker, dared to say it so openly.
Just as Yu Yan was about to erupt, the conference room door was suddenly pushed open. Fan Jinci stood in the doorway, dressed in black, holding a folder in his hand, his face even paler than usual. There were obvious dark circles under his eyes, and medical tape was on his right wrist, with the edges of a butterfly scar faintly visible.
"Excuse me for interrupting your kindergarten debate." Fan Jinci's voice was as cold and sharp as a scalpel. "Autopsy report."
Jiang Zhaoyan's expression changed instantly. He practically leaped towards the door, his disdain vanishing in an instant, replaced by fervent interest: "This must be the legendary forensic pathologist, Dr. Fan? I've heard so much about you."
He strode up to Fan Jinci, extending his hand: "Jiang Zhaoyan, deputy captain of the criminal investigation team. Would you be so kind as to invite me to dinner to discuss the case?"
Fan Jinci didn't even glance at the hand, shoving the folder directly to the nearest officer: "A large amount of sedatives was detected in the victim's stomach contents, unlike the method used in the Zhou Lin case. The killer might be copying the crime, or..." He paused, "...someone is deliberately trying to mislead the public."
Yu Yan keenly noticed that when Fan Jinci said this, his gaze briefly swept over Jiang Zhaoyan. Jiang Zhaoyan, instead of being angry after being refused a handshake, smiled even more brightly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the inside of his right wrist—where there was a faint circular scar.
"Forensic expert Fan truly lives up to his reputation." Jiang Zhaoyan's voice suddenly became serious. "I noticed you mentioned sedatives—it just so happens that one of our Jiang Group's pharmaceutical factories lost a batch of benzodiazepines last month."
A murmur rippled through the conference room. Yu Yan narrowed his eyes: "Why is Deputy Captain Jiang only revealing such crucial intelligence now?"
Jiang Zhaoyan shrugged: "You didn't ask."
Fan Jinci had already turned to leave, but Jiang Zhaoyan swiftly stopped him: "Dr. Fan, I've heard you're quite knowledgeable about stun guns? I have some friends in the military who can get complete technical data on 'Morning Star'."
These words were like a pause button being pressed. Fan Jinci's body visibly stiffened for a moment, and for the first time, his grey-blue eyes looked directly at Jiang Zhaoyan: "Where did you hear that from?"
"I have my own channels," Jiang Zhaoyan smiled, then suddenly lowered his voice, "I also know that not all butterflies can fly."
Fan Jinci's face turned deathly pale instantly. Yu Yan abruptly stood up, the chair scraping harshly on the floor: "Jiang Zhaoyan!"
Jiang Zhaoyan took a step back and raised his hands: "Don't be nervous, I just want to help." His gaze lingered for a second on the bandage on Fan Jinci's wrist. "After all... this case might be related to my family."
Fan Jinci had reverted to his icy expression: "Want some help?" he said coldly, "Then stay away from me."
He turned and left, the hem of his black robe drawing a sharp arc at the doorway. Jiang Zhaoyan watched his retreating figure, a strange light flickering in his eyes.
"He's even more charming than the rumors say," Jiang Zhaoyan muttered to himself, completely ignoring Yu Yan's murderous gaze.
Yu Yan grabbed Jiang Zhaoyan by the tie and pulled him in front of him: "I don't care what game you're playing, stay away from Fan Jinci."
Jiang Zhaoyan showed no fear, instead moving even closer: "What, Captain Yu is jealous?" He chuckled and pried Yu Yan's fingers apart. "Fair competition, after all. Besides..." His voice suddenly turned cold, "The Jiang family owes Doctor Fan, and I have to repay that debt."
These words stunned Yu Yan. Before he could ask further, Jiang Zhaoyan had already straightened his tie and strode confidently toward the door: "I'm going to check on the missing batch of medicine. Oh, by the way—" He turned back and winked, "Tell Dr. Fan that I'll be waiting for him at the 'Amber' restaurant at eight o'clock tonight. He'll definitely come."
Yu Yan stared at Jiang Zhaoyan's departing figure, his alarm bells ringing high. What did this spoiled brat know? What was the entanglement between the Jiang family and Fan Jinci?
More importantly—what does that butterfly that can't fly really mean?
"Boss..." Officer Chen cautiously approached, "Deputy Captain Jiang, he..."
"Investigate two things," Yu Yan interrupted him, his voice low and dangerous. "First, all records of thefts of Jiang's Pharmaceuticals over the past five years. Second..." He glanced in the direction Fan Jinci had left, "...investigate whether Jiang Zhaoyan and Fan Jinci have had any contact."
Xiao Chen nodded and noted it down, then hesitated before asking, "What about the 'Amber' restaurant..."
"I'll go myself." A dark glint flashed in Yu Yan's eyes. "Take a voice recorder with you."
At 7:50 p.m. that evening, in the most private room of the "Amber" restaurant, Jiang Zhaoyan was elegantly sipping red wine. He had changed into a dark blue suit, without a tie, and the collar was slightly open, making him look more like a wealthy young man preparing for a date than a policeman.
When the door was pushed open, his eyes lit up, then dimmed again—it was Yu Yan.
"Where is Dr. Fan?" Jiang Zhaoyan put down his wine glass, unable to hide his disappointment.
Yu Yan pulled out a chair and sat down, pouring himself a glass of wine without any hesitation: "He's very busy."
Jiang Zhaoyan laughed: "Busy avoiding you? Or avoiding me?"
"Enough with the nonsense." Yu Yan slammed a file folder on the table. "Explain why a research and development director at Jiang's Pharmaceuticals suddenly disappeared three years ago, and why his wife—a surgeon—committed suicide in the same year?"
Jiang Zhaoyan's smile froze. He slowly put down his glass, his fingers tapping lightly on the rim: "You investigated quite quickly."
"Answer my question."
"That supervisor's name is Lin Zhengming," Jiang Zhaoyan's voice suddenly became unusually calm, "He stole human trial data for a neuroleptic inhibitor that the company was developing. His wife, Su Yuan... was one of the main executors of the experiment."
Yu Yan's pupils contracted slightly: "What experiment?"
Jiang Zhaoyan didn't answer directly, but instead took a photo from his wallet and pushed it towards him. The photo showed a laboratory with a dozen researchers in white coats standing together. Yu Yan immediately recognized the young Fan Jinci—he was standing in the far corner, expressionless, and his wrists didn't yet bear the butterfly scars. And standing in the center was none other than Zhou Lin.
"'Project Reverse Butterfly,'" Jiang Zhaoyan said softly. "A special forces project aimed at creating perfect memories through electrical stimulation and drug control. My father invested in it, but it went out of control."
Yu Yan's blood almost froze: "Fan Jinci is... a test subject?"
"Initially, I was a researcher." A flicker of pain crossed Jiang Zhaoyan's eyes. "Later, I became a test subject. Zhou Lin believed that only the most brilliant minds were worthy of 'sublimation.'" He pointed to a young girl in the photo, whom Zhou Lin was embracing. "That's my sister, Jiang Zhaoyue. She didn't survive the third phase of the experiment."
The private room was eerily quiet. Yu Yan stared at Fan Jinci's empty eyes in the photo, feeling as if a huge rock was pressing on his chest.
"Those butterfly scars..."
"Electrode implantation points." Jiang Zhaoyan's voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth, "Zhou Lin's 'artistic taste.' The rising butterfly represents the successful experimenter, the falling one represents..." He didn't finish his sentence.
A soft sound came from outside the door. Yu Yan flung the door open and was met with Fan Jinci's pale face—he had clearly heard the entire conversation.
The moment the three locked eyes, time seemed to stand still. Fan Jinci's gaze shifted from shock to anger, finally settling into a deathly silence.
"Are you satisfied now?" His voice was as soft as a feather falling. "Can we stop this ridiculous investigation now?"
Jiang Zhaoyan stood up: "Brother Fan, I—"
"Shut up." Fan Jinci's eyes were so cold they could freeze a person. "I don't need your guilt, nor do I need your dinner." He turned to Yu Yan. "As for you... what about your professional ethics?"
Yu Yan opened his mouth to explain, but Fan Jinci had already turned and left. He chased after him to the restaurant entrance, but only saw Fan Jinci's black Mercedes disappear into the rain.
Jiang Zhaoyan followed him out, his smile unusually absent: "He'll go find Zhou Lin."
"What?"
"Every time someone mentions the 'Reverse Butterfly Project,' Fan-ge goes to see Zhou Lin," Jiang Zhaoyan's voice carried a sense of fatalistic sorrow, "like self-punishment."
Yu Yan had already taken out his car keys: "Give me the prison address."
"It's no use. He won't see you." Jiang Zhaoyan grabbed him. "But I have a way in. After all..." He gave a bitter smile, "The Jiang family donated more than just the police station."
The rain was getting heavier. Yu Yan looked at Jiang Zhaoyan's profile, which was wet with rain, and suddenly realized that this seemingly frivolous young master had the same determination in his eyes as he did.
"Why are you only saying this now?" Yu Yan asked.
Jiang Zhaoyan looked in the direction Fan Jinci had left: "Because those new victims... all have butterfly marks on their wrists. Someone is restarting the 'Reverse Butterfly Project.'" He turned to look at Yu Yan, raindrops streaming down his cheeks, "And this time, Fan Jinci is the target."
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