SES Chapter 8 V2

Mu Dai opened the envelope. The team under Wan Fenghuo was quite efficient; although sometimes they fell short on the most clandestine details, once a lead opened up, there was no shortage of additional information.

Inside was a thick stack of documents — Liu Shuhai’s profile — confirming what Cen Chunjiao had said. His autopsy indeed classified his death as from “natural disease.” His left foot had been cut, but it hadn’t contributed to his death.

Additionally, the autopsy revealed something more bizarre. The center of Liu Shuhai’s back was missing a piece of skin — about 9.2 by 2 inches — removed in a clean, precise cut.

How strange. Mu Dai held her hands up to approximate the dimensions — it was about the width of a ruler or a stretched-out bookmark.

The documents explained that the cut was made after his death; the margins were smooth and deliberate, not a messy, rushed removal. It must have required great care. Furthermore, the wound was fresh, made close to the time his left foot was injured.

How odd. From the moment Cen Chunjiao rushed away and called for the elderly doorman, it hadn’t been more than a minute. Cutting off a person’s left foot was bizarre enough, but to then extract a piece of skin so precisely under those conditions seemed nearly impossible.

Also attached were a few brief biographical notes about Liu Shuhai. He was born in 1972 in Changsha and owned a small car repair shop. His neighbors described him as honest and hard-working; nobody could recall a time when he’d gotten into a dispute with anyone. His only dramatic incident was in 2007, when a tour bus fell into a river in Datong. Liu Shuhai was the last person rescued and remained in a coma in the hospital for 48 hours.

In 2008, he left home, alleging that he was going to find a business opportunity elsewhere, and fell out of contact with his family. In 2010, his body was found in a small hotel near the Jinan West Bus Station.

One more key detail: His relatives insisted Liu Shuhai hadn’t been to Luoma Lake.

Cen Chunjiao was going to lose it.

Flipping to the next page, Mu Dai suddenly paused.

It read: “Also, there’s no progress on the Zhang Guanghua case. His last confirmed sighting was at Taiyuan Bus Station.”

The whole file was about Liu Shuhai — then suddenly a Zhang Guanghua appeared.

Mu Dai suspected that Wan Fenghuo must have gotten it confused and immediately called internal phone 108.

Wan Fenghuo sighed in relief when he heard her voice. “I thought it was Cen Chunjiao again. She called me just now and insisted all these suspects were elusive — even if they went to Luoma Lake, their families wouldn’t know. I repeatedly assured her we’d pay whatever it cost, and she finally backed off.”

Mu Dai raised the documents in her hand, although Wan Fenghuo couldn’t see them. “Your people were a bit careless. The Zhang Guanghua file got mixed into mine. Security should be tighter.”

Wan Fenghuo seemed confused. “Zhang Guanghua?”

He paused, then suddenly remembered. “Ah, that. Did Aunt Hong not tell you? She was the one who asked us to check into him.”

This time, Mu Dai fell silent. So it was Aunt Hong who wanted this investigated. How much is she trying to find, anyway?

Wan Fenghuo explained patiently, “Aunt Hong opened two cases with us — Luoma Lake and Zhang Guanghua. You came here on her behalf, so we put together all the files we had. There weren’t many leads on Zhang Guanghua, but we included it anyway.”

Mu Dai hung up and casually flipped through Zhang Guanghua’s documents. He was a native of Luoma Lake and lived in the same building as Li Yaqing’s family. He was a civil service worker. The file included a black-and-white photo — thick eyebrows, piercing eyes — a handsomely righteous face, much like a leading actor from that era’s films.

Aunt Hong was investigating this charming man, Mu Dai thought with curiosity. But when she turned the page and saw “married, with a 3-year-old son” at the top, her curiosity cooled immediately.

She put the documents back into the envelope just as her phone rang. The receptionist called to say there was a visitor in the hotel lobby.

Cao Yanhua stood there with drooped shoulders and a glum expression. Mu Dai hadn’t gotten close yet, but she already knew it hadn’t gone well.

As soon as she walked up to him, Cao sighed profoundly. Probably ashamed to admit it directly, he tried to convey his failure through his body language.

Mu Dai struck back immediately, “Didn’t you say you’d sink him into a vast ocean of people?”

Cao Yanhua sighed in dismay. “Sister, it’s not our fault. Everything was going smoothly — then all of a sudden, he hopped into a car and sped off. Do you know what kind of car it was? There’s no way we can keep up. We’re not a specialized team. If we were all able to drive, we’d be in a different profession. Anyway…”

He mumbled under his breath, “Once a car speeds up, not even a taxi can keep up.”

Suddenly, his face broke into a huge smile. “Boss!” Mu Dai turned and saw Wan Fenghuo striding into the hotel.

Wan Fenghuo glared. “What are you doing here?”

Cao Yanhua rushed to explain, “Boss, please, it’s not what you think. I’d never cut in on your business.”

He nodded toward Mu Dai. “We’re friends — good friends.”

“Good friends?” Wan Fenghuo seemed unsure and was about to question him further when the delivery person who’d gone to drop off a package came back. Wan Fenghuo turned and asked him, “Did you deliver it?”

“Yes.”

“Got a photo?”

Mu Dai was curious. “You need a photo of the delivery?”

Wan Fenghuo took the phone from the delivery person. “It’s Ma Tuwen. He doesn’t live here, so we had to drop it off in person. So I asked the delivery person to take a photo to make sure it was handed directly to him. Oh — this place is a mess…”

Mu Dai craned her neck to look. The photo shows Ma Tuwen smiling broadly, holding the envelope like a trophy.

Wan Fenghuo was about to return the phone when Mu Dai snatched it first. “Let me have a look.”

She zoomed in on the photo.

Wan Fenghuo side-eyed her. “Your curiosity is unfathomable. Are you sure you’re not just staring because you think Ma Tuwen is cute?”

Mu Dai remained silent.

The Ma Tuwen household was a mess — beer cans were scattered all over the floor, and a woman’s camisole was draped casually over the sofa.

But that wasn’t the main point.

The main point was the messy table in front of him. There were a few bags of fruit on it. The photo’s resolution wasn’t great, but at a glance, it was still clear enough to make them out.

There were apples, bananas, and… strawberries.