Chapter Thirty-Nine: Reflection

“Dead? Well, that’s rather interesting!” Congo rubbed the faint stubble on his chin and his eyes sparkled with excitement upon hearing the news. “How did he die?”

“Apparently, he had a dispute with a fellow inmate who threatened revenge. The man was naturally timid and got so scared that he suffered a sudden heart attack. He was rushed for emergency treatment but didn’t make it. It’s been two or three months since then.”

Congo’s mind was sharp and clear. “So, first of all, this person likely had little to do with either Lin Zhen or Bai Yueni. A theft charge alone wouldn’t make someone risk attempting a prison break. Secondly, even if there was some connection, a man dead for two or three months couldn’t possibly have come out to attend a gathering at Bai Yueni’s house, leave fingerprints, and commit murder.

“You mentioned earlier that identical fingerprints were found at several key points at the crime scene—I thought that was very deliberate. Breaking in and killing someone isn’t like signing a contract; who presses one finger repeatedly everywhere? Then you said the fingerprint’s owner was not only imprisoned but died suddenly, which only confirmed my suspicion.

“Let me guess: the fingerprint at the scene was the deceased’s index finger, right? Left or right, I can’t say for sure, since I don’t know if he was left- or right-handed.”

“That’s amazing! You actually guessed it right—it’s the right-hand index finger, so he was probably right-handed,” Yan Xue said, a bit surprised. “But how did you figure it was the index finger?”

“Do you believe me if I say I just guessed?” Congo clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “Sometimes my guesses are so accurate even I’m amazed! But honestly, I guessed the index finger randomly. Usually, when we use our hands—pushing, pulling, holding—the fingers that touch surfaces most are the thumb and index finger, so the thumb was my backup guess.

“Now, whether it was the index or thumb, I have a follow-up conclusion—not a guess this time. A fingerprint belonging to a prisoner who died three months ago was found at the crime scene. You can probably guess how that print got there.”

“You mean a fingerprint film?” Yan Xue had heard her colleague Xiao Wu mention this and had suspected as much. Given the average person’s technical capabilities, making a fingerprint film is quite feasible.

“Exactly. But extracting such a complete fingerprint isn’t easy. In the outside world, fingerprints are messy, layered, and complicated. If it were that simple to collect and analyze them, everyone would be an expert in forensic techniques and a master fingerprint analyst!” Congo pointed out. “I think whoever made this fingerprint film didn’t obtain it covertly—it’s more likely they did so openly.”

“Openly obtaining someone else’s fingerprint film? Who would be so careless?” Yan Xue found it hard to believe.

“Suppose you live far from work, and I have the convenience to help you clock in and out?” Congo smiled.

Yan Xue suddenly understood. “That’s actually quite common! If you suddenly asked a stranger to have their fingerprint taken, anyone would be suspicious. But among colleagues, helping each other clock in doesn’t raise any alarm—no one guards against that.”

“Exactly. So the interesting thing is, this person likely got the fingerprint either by helping clock in or some other way and carefully preserved the fingerprint film instead of discarding it.

“Remember when we first took this case and found Bai Yueni’s fatal injury was in such a peculiar spot? We were all surprised and thought the killer might be familiar with human bone structure, maybe working in a related field. But now, considering other clues, it’s not necessarily a professional—it seems more like someone who enjoys crime dramas or studies them as if they were instructional.”

“In other words, this person, for whatever reason, has a habit of collecting others’ fingerprints and probably has more than one fingerprint film. They spend time pondering and gathering knowledge on how to kill, perhaps driven by deep-seated resentment, studying methods of revenge.”

Yan Xue’s thoughts suddenly became crystal clear. “Just like we discussed earlier, the killer might have nurtured a grudge for a long time, repeatedly refining their method. When the opportunity arose, they acted, which explains the contradiction between their skill and the rushed feel of the crime.

“This shows the killer’s hatred toward the victim runs incredibly deep—not mere dislike or envy. To repeatedly contemplate killing someone in one’s mind, the grievance must have profoundly affected their entire life.

“Given Lin Zhen’s social circle and friendships, it’s hard to imagine anyone holding such deep hate for so long. It’s more likely the killer’s original target was Bai Yueni herself, with no scapegoat involved. That possibility just became much stronger.”

“That makes our investigation highly focused! I’m suddenly full of enthusiasm!” Congo rolled up his sleeves. “Today, we must break through this bottleneck!”

Yan Xue mimicked his gesture exaggeratedly, cheering herself on. For Bai Yueni’s case, they hadn’t had a proper meal in days, working late into the night or pulling all-nighters. They were truly exhausted.

Even machines made of steel need rest; humans of flesh and blood all the more so. Yan Xue longed for the case to be solved so she could finally rest.

The two arrived at the guesthouse where accommodations were sparse and quiet. Walking down the long corridor, they were halfway there when Bai Yueni’s father emerged from their room, looking dejected as he shuffled out.

“Where are you going?” Congo waited for him to notice and greet them, but Bai Yueni’s father kept his head down, not even lifting his eyelids. Congo had to block his way.

Startled, Bai Yueni’s father looked up at Congo, his eyes still clouded and wary, as if unsure who he was.

After a few seconds staring, he suddenly recognized Congo and became somewhat excited, though his usual lethargic demeanor meant the excitement was just a slight lift in spirit, nothing dramatic.

“Officer Kang? It’s you, right? Why are you here? Have… have you got any news about our child’s case?” His hand trembled slightly as he grabbed Congo’s arm, his voice low and urgent, eager yet fearful of the answer.

“Not yet. We just came to talk, to understand the situation better.” Congo patted his hand reassuringly, then changed the subject, not wanting Bai Yueni’s father to start probing in the corridor. “Where are you headed?”

“I… I want to go get some food. My wife hasn’t had an appetite since morning; she hasn’t eaten anything. I thought I’d find something she might like.” Bai Yueni’s father rubbed his face in despair. “Since our child’s accident, both of us have been more tormented than if we were being cut with knives.

“My wife barely has the strength to go on. She looks like she’s waiting for the case to be resolved so she can… follow our child. Our family’s already at this point; we really can’t lose anything more. Could you please try to persuade her? She won’t listen to me now.”

“All right, come on. Let’s go back to your room together. Leave the food arrangements to me.” Congo stopped Bai Yueni’s father from going out and motioned for him and Yan Xue to head inside.

Yan Xue knew Congo had good taste when it came to food and was thoughtful and meticulous. She gestured for Bai Yueni’s father not to worry and to return to the room with them.

“This is too much! You’ve already been working so hard on our child’s case, and here we are troubling you further...” Bai Yueni’s father felt guilty and tried to be polite.

Yan Xue waved it off. “It’s nothing. Investigating is our duty. Don’t think like that. Come on, your wife’s condition means she shouldn’t be left alone in the room for long. People easily spiral into dark places at times like this.”

Bai Yueni’s father agreed and hurriedly pulled a magnetic card from his pocket to unlock the door.

The guesthouse rooms were modest, affordable—not comparable to luxury hotels. The space was small but functional, a double standard room with one window letting in decent light.

Bai Yueni’s mother sat at the foot of the single bed near the window, facing outside. Her gaze was vacant and expressionless, unmoved even when the door opened and people entered.

“Honey, police officers Yan and Kang are here to talk to us about the case.” Seeing his wife’s state, Bai Yueni’s father approached quickly, placing his body between her and the window. He bent down, holding her hand, urging her to look at Yan Xue. “Look, they’re working so hard for our child. As parents, shouldn’t we pull ourselves together and do what we can for her?”

Bai Yueni’s mother took a deep, trembling breath—a slow, quivering intake like silent sobbing. Then she finally turned her gaze from outside to meet Yan Xue’s eyes.

In that moment, Yan Xue understood the worry Bai Yueni’s father had expressed earlier. Those eyes were hollow, as if the body lived but the soul had vanished.

“I know you’re very sad...” Yan Xue felt a deep sorrow. Though she had faced countless grieving eyes during her work, each one weighed heavily on her heart.

But Bai Yueni’s mother interrupted before Yan Xue could finish.

“You don’t understand. I’m not just sad. I haven’t slept a single night these past few days. I keep thinking about the past—from when our child was little until she grew up, recalling everything carefully.”

“What are you doing...” Bai Yueni’s father sighed deeply. “Why torture yourself like this? If you don’t eat or sleep, how will you hold up? If Ni Ni were still here, she’d be so saddened seeing you like this...”

“I really have nothing to live for, but I’m afraid to die,” Bai Yueni’s mother closed her eyes as a tear traced down the fine wrinkles at the corner of her eye. It wasn’t that she lacked sorrow; her tears had nearly dried up. “If I die now, I won’t have the face to face my daughter.”

“How can you say that? Our child was harmed by a bad person; it’s not your fault...”

“No, it is my fault. It’s always been my fault!” Bai Yueni’s mother painfully clawed at her hair. “I didn’t raise her well. I failed to give her the right outlook on life. I let her care too much about material things!

“I spoilt her, raised her in luxury, made her unable to bear even the smallest setbacks!

“These past days I’ve thought a lot, remembered things I’d forgotten. It was my bad parenting that made her personality flawed—arrogant and unlikeable as a child, constantly offending others as she grew up, always facing obstacles, unhappy at work, and eventually swapping identities with someone else to experience life!

“If I’d raised her properly, she wouldn’t have had so many troubles, wouldn’t have swapped identities, and maybe today, none of this would have happened!”