I like…
In the corridor on the third floor of the police station, Wen Lin once again "bumped into" Fan Jinci.
"Forensic Pathologist Fan, what's your decision?" Wen Lin leaned against the filing cabinet beside Fan Jinci, the cuff of his prosecutor's uniform brushing against the forensic pathologist's white coat. "That Japanese restaurant's bluefin tuna, I heard, is air-freighted daily—"
"Get out of the way." Fan Jinci didn't even lift his eyelids.
Instead of backing down, Wen Lin pressed on, lowering his voice: "I've found a new lead regarding the mole." His breath almost brushed against Fan Jinci's ear. "Tonight at eight o'clock, at my place or yours?"
The sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out.
Three meters away, Yu Yan's coffee cup shattered into pieces, the dark brown liquid splashing onto his crisp police trousers. He stared at the two men, who were almost touching, his jawline taut like a knife.
"Hey, Captain Yu." Wen Lin straightened up, smiling innocently, "So angry?"
Yu Yan ignored him, his bloodstained hand grabbing Fan Jinci's wrist: "The autopsy report, now."
Fan Jinci frowned, looking at his bloodstained right hand: "You—"
"Urgent case." Yu Yan interrupted, pulling the person towards the criminal investigation team's office with such force that it left red marks on the forensic doctor's pale wrist.
As soon as the door closed, Yu Yan pinned Fan Jinci against the wall.
"What's going on between you and that prosecutor?" His voice was extremely low, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. "He asked you out five times in three days, and you actually went?"
Fan Jinci calmly returned the gaze: "Exchange of case information."
"Switch to their homes?" Yu Yan leaned closer, his nose almost touching Fan Jinci's. "Do you know how close he was to you just now? Huh?"
"2.7 centimeters," Fan Jinci counted accurately. "Enough to identify the cedarwood and patchouli components in his cologne, which match the perfume residue on the second victim's clothing."
Yu Yan choked, then became even angrier: "You let him get that close just to smell the perfume?!"
"Otherwise?" Fan Jinci finally showed a hint of doubt. "The precise angle of the nanoneedle during intravenous injection?"
"Damn it!" Yu Yan slammed his fist against the wall. "You..."
Let him have nowhere to vent his anger.
The office suddenly fell silent.
Fan Jinci glanced down at the close proximity between them, then suddenly pulled a disinfectant wipe from his pocket and slapped it on Yu Yan's blood-stained hands: "Wipe it clean. You've soiled my cuffs."
Yu Yan was so angry that his temples throbbed, but he still subconsciously took the wet wipe. When he finished wiping and looked up, Fan Jinci was already standing by the door, his clothes neatly arranged.
"Wen Lin discovered that all three deceased individuals had reported Jiang's Pharmaceutical Company's pollution problems," Fan Jinci stated matter-of-factly. "The complaint letters were deleted before being filed, but the prosecutor's office has a copy."
"so?"
"So the mole is in the legal department or the information department." Fan Jinci turned the doorknob. "I'll go confirm the specific person tonight. Don't follow me."
The door opened and closed. Yu Yan stared at the bloodstains he had wiped off with the wet wipe, then suddenly kicked over the trash can.
It was 11 p.m. downstairs at Fan Jinci's apartment building.
Yu Yan had been waiting in the car for three hours, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. He looked out the sixth-floor window for the umpteenth time—the light was on, but the curtains were drawn tightly shut.
"Damn it..." He stubbed out his cigarette and was about to get out of the car when he saw a familiar official car parked in front of the building.
Wen Lin.
The prosecutor, carrying an elegant Japanese food box, swiped his card to enter the building with practiced ease. Yu Yan's blood rushed to his head; he practically jumped out of the car and into the elevator.
The sixth-floor corridor was eerily quiet. Yu Yan stood before Fan Jinci's door, hearing indistinct conversations coming from inside. He raised his hand to bang on the door, but stopped at the last second—
"...The pharmaceutical company's accounts are right here." Wen Lin's voice rang out. "Does Jiang Zhaoyan know about this?"
"It's irrelevant." Fan Jinci's response was calm and as usual.
"Are you sure you want to continue investigating? They've already got their eyes on you."
"go out."
After a rustling sound, the door suddenly opened. Wen Lin bumped into Yu Yan, and the two froze at the same time.
"Eavesdropping is illegal, Captain Yu." Wen Lin raised an eyebrow.
Yu Yan grabbed his collar: "You motherfucker—"
"Get in here," Fan Jinci's voice came from inside the house, "or all of you get out."
Wen Lin straightened his collar and whispered to Yu Yan before leaving, "Protect him. Someone wants him dead."
After the door closed, only the hum of the refrigerator filled the apartment. Fan Jinci sat at the coffee table, a thick stack of documents spread out in front of him, not even glancing at the intruder.
What are you doing here?
Yu Yan's anger suddenly subsided. He stared at the small patch of pale skin exposed on the back of Fan Jinci's neck and said in a hoarse voice, "...I was worried about you."
"unnecessary."
"That Wen Lin—"
"Just drop off the documents and leave." Fan Jinci finally looked up, his grey-blue eyes like a frozen lake under the desk lamp. "Don't make me say it a second time."
Yu Yan approached, grinding his teeth, but froze when he saw the contents of the document—it was Jiang's Pharmaceutical's drug experiment records for the past five years, with several pages circled in red and marked with words such as "neural inhibitor" and "memory interference".
"Is this case related to the 'Reverse Butterfly Project'?" He looked up abruptly.
Fan Jinci closed the file: "Get out."
"Fan Jinci!" Yu Yan leaned over, bracing himself against the coffee table. "What are you hiding? Why did Wen Lin say someone wants your life?"
"It's none of your business."
"How can it be unrelated!" Yu Yan roared, "I fucking like—"
The scalpel was suddenly pressed against his Adam's apple.
Fan Jinci stood up at some point, his knife tip steady without trembling. "My private matters are none of your concern." His voice was colder than the blade. "Now, get out."
The glint of the blade reflected between the two men, like an insurmountable galaxy.
The next morning, at the trace evidence department.
"Where did this ointment come from?" the policewoman asked curiously, sniffing it. "It smells quite unique."
Fan Jinci adjusted the microscope: "Given to me by someone else."
"Wow, is it that expensive Swiss brand? They specialize in treating old scars." The policewoman blinked. "Who's so thoughtful?"
Situ Jin suddenly started coughing violently.
Fan Jinci continued working expressionlessly: "I don't need it. It's yours."
Outside the office, Yu Yan leaned against the wall, holding an empty box of the same ointment in his hand. He looked at Fan Jinci's indifferent profile through the glass window, and with a wry smile, he crushed the box.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Xiao Chen: "[Captain! We found out Wen Lin met with Jiang Zhaoyan last night!]"
Yu Yan's eyes sharpened. He glanced one last time at the person inside the window, then turned and strode away.
Unbeknownst to him, as his figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, Fan Jinci's wrist trembled almost imperceptibly, and a drop of cold sweat fell onto the autopsy report, blurring the ink.
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