Chapter 2
Lin Jiafan and several members of the Special Case Investigation Team stopped in their tracks when they were still some distance from the main gate.
By then, the nearby SWAT unit from the municipal patrol division had already received orders and rushed over, quickly bringing the nearly out-of-control situation under control.
Even so, the group outside still refused to leave.
At the front stood a middle-aged woman, who immediately started wailing again without backing down.
“My son was killed by you people! Heaven has no eyes!!! Is there no justice left in this world?!”
She dropped straight onto the ground, slapping her thighs as she cried hysterically, looking every bit like a woman shattered by grief.
If she hadn’t been deliberately posing for the phone a man beside her was holding up, Luo Jingyao felt the performance would’ve been far more convincing.
Very tactfully, she stopped walking when she saw Lin Jiafan and the others pause ahead. There was an old tree nearby—clearly aged—and she casually leaned back against its rough trunk, letting herself relax a little.
Outside the gate, the noise didn’t stop.
The Tianjin Municipal Public Security Bureau wasn’t located in a particularly remote area, and gradually people began gathering along both sides of the road. Looking out, what stood out first wasn’t a sea of heads—but countless smartphones of all shapes and sizes, all pointed forward.
Not just the police bureau itself—even Luo Jingyao felt slightly dizzy at the sheer spectacle.
After a while, she shifted her gaze from the crowd back to the group causing the disturbance at the gate, finally getting a clear look at the boards they were waving around.
One side of each board held a photo. In it, a man with a buzz cut, a square face, small eyes, and a short but distinct scar at the corner of his right eye stared back.
“Hey! I remember now!” the blond-haired young officer suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands as something clicked. “No wonder they looked familiar from the training room. Isn’t this the suspect from that 6·13 serial murder case two years ago?”
He scratched his head, trying to recall the name.
“Wasn’t he called… what was it again?”
“Huáng Guójùn,” Lin Jiafan replied evenly, his tone calm and steady.
“What suspect? The court already sentenced him to death last year. He should’ve been executed five or six months ago,” added another team member wearing black-framed glasses.
“Then why are his family members still here causing a scene? If I remember correctly, this case was handled by First Division of the Criminal Investigation Unit. The evidence was solid and complete—otherwise the final verdict wouldn’t have been upheld,” the blond officer said, still puzzled.
The man in glasses shrugged as well. They usually worked as a unit and had been spending their recent days focused on physical training. If none of them knew the details, then it was no surprise they were all confused.
Seeing no point in overthinking, the blond officer decided to observe for now. Crossing his arms, he nudged the man beside him.
“Boss, didn’t you say you were going on a two-week business trip? Why are you back already?”
Lin Jiafan raised an eyebrow toward the gate.
“This is the reason I was called back on short notice.”
“Huh?”
That sentence immediately drew everyone’s attention in the Special Case Investigation Team—and also pulled Luo Jingyao’s focus sharply back toward him.
Only then did she truly register the so-called head of the Special Case Investigation Team.
His voice was unexpectedly pleasant—warm and restrained—perfectly matching his appearance. From head to toe, he carried the unmistakable aura of an “elite professional.”
A pair of frameless glasses sat on a nose bridge that was already superior to most people’s. The sunlight reflecting off the lenses made it difficult to see the emotions in his eyes.
Luo Jingyao subconsciously used the blond young officer—who stood at nearly 190 cm—as a reference point. By conservative estimate, Lin Jiafan was just over 180 cm.
“Wait… so this is just someone refusing to accept the verdict and making a scene?” the blond officer asked. “Why were you called back for this?”
His question snapped Luo Jingyao back from her drifting thoughts. She lowered her gaze slightly, focusing all her attention on listening, trying to pick out Lin Jiafan’s voice amid the noise.
“Because of a case last week,” Lin Jiafan said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. “The technical investigation team reported that after processing the scene, they found certain pieces of evidence—and the perpetrator’s method—were highly similar to the 6·13 serial murder case.”
!!!
That single sentence instantly changed everyone’s expression.
The blond officer was the first to react.
“Why didn’t we hear anything about this?”
“The execution of Huáng Guójùn was still recent. His family is extremely sensitive right now, and the bureau was also concerned that if the case was widely reported, it could trigger public panic. So, under the principle of minimizing complications, the information was temporarily suppressed while the Criminal Investigation Unit was urged to solve it quickly,” Lin Jiafan explained, glancing again toward the gate through the lenses of his glasses.
“In the end, it didn’t stay hidden,” the blond officer muttered, smacking his lips. “Looks like his family really came prepared today…”
At that, the only woman in the Special Case Investigation Team let out a cold snort.
“As if his mother didn’t know what her son did. He confessed to everything during trial. What exactly are they trying to achieve by making such a scene now?”
She wore a black windbreaker, her long hair tied into a sharp ponytail. In her thirties, her features carried a crisp, capable sharpness, and her gaunt face was filled with open disdain.
From the others’ expressions, it was clear they agreed with her. But no one added anything further. The group fell briefly silent again, with only the chaos outside the gate continuing uninterrupted.
By the tree, Luo Jingyao, who had been leaning there for a while, finally moved her slightly stiff legs.
Lost in thought, she pulled her phone from her bag and quickly searched: Tianjin 6·13 major serial murder case.
Instantly, a flood of results filled her screen.
Tianjin had developed rapidly in recent years, becoming a new first-tier city. The influx of population brought vitality—but also hidden dangers.
Crime rates had been rising year by year, yet a case as brutal as the 6·13 serial murders was still rare enough to shock the entire country.
At the time, it had sparked widespread public attention, even receiving multiple in-depth media reports.
Without hesitation, she tapped into one of them and began reading at high speed.
But less than two minutes later, her breathing suddenly hitched.
A cold sensation crept up her spine like countless thin threads.
The report stated that the suspect, Huáng Guójùn, after experiencing severe setbacks in both his career and love life, chose to vent his resentment by killing.
All his victims were women between the ages of twenty and forty. After murdering them, he dismembered their bodies with shocking brutality.
Skinning. Flesh removal. Bone separation.
And the most crucial evidence that finally led to his arrest—he cut off the victims’ ring fingers after each murder and took them with him.
Ring fingers.
Luo Jingyao’s pupils dilated in shock.
Her mind immediately flashed back to the unfamiliar refrigerator she had been trapped in last night… and the severed finger wrapped in a black plastic bag—fresh, disturbingly fresh.
Could it be… such a coincidence?
She swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry and tight as she snapped back to reality.
After hesitating for a moment, she turned off her phone screen and looked again at the photos being held by the group outside the gate.
Then she quickly dismissed the thought that had just formed in her mind.
What she had seen… probably wasn’t the crime scene of Huáng Guójùn.
After all, he had already been executed two years ago.
So could it be what Lin Jiafan just mentioned—the “case from last week”?
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Just when she finally seemed to have a lead related to what she had glimpsed last night, she now had no idea what to do next.
While she was still lost in thought, the blond officer ahead suddenly spoke up again.
“Hey? Boss? Didn’t you say last week’s case was handed over to the Criminal Investigation Division? Why did they call you back?”
“This morning, the media exposed the case,” Lin Jiafan replied, lowering his head slightly and pressing his fingers against his brow. “Public opinion online exploded. People are saying the serial killer has come back from the dead. So the bureau booked me a flight overnight. It sounds like they want our team to take over.”
He looked visibly exhausted. By his estimate, he had only slept a couple of hours on the plane in the past two days.
No wonder Huáng Guójùn’s family had come to cause a scene—everyone finally understood.
In the end, it made sense that the case had fallen to their team. It was exactly their domain.
The so-called “Special Case Investigation” dealt with those cases that sounded almost supernatural on the surface. But in the end, it was always human nature at its worst.
At his words, Lin Jiafan glanced at them with a slightly strange look.
“You didn’t know about this?”
The group immediately looked guilty. The blond officer scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“We’ve just been… too exhausted these past couple of days…”
Exhausted to the point of collapsing the moment they got home. Who still had the energy to check the news?
Then, almost in unison, they turned their heads.
Their accusing gazes landed on Luo Jingyao by the tree.
She paused for a moment, then offered them a sincere, harmless smile.
That face—soft, sweet, almost deceptively gentle—only made them feel even more guilty.
Honestly speaking, they were all just doing their jobs. Now it almost looked like they were ganging up on someone innocent. But God knew what kind of hellish days they had just endured.
QAQ.
Lin Jiafan’s gaze slowly settled on Luo Jingyao’s smiling eyes.
Before he could say anything, two figures suddenly rushed out of the municipal building.
The officer in front, his cap slightly askew, wore a grim expression as he reached them and lowered his voice urgently.
“Captain Lin! Captain Lin—something’s wrong!!!”
