Chapter Seven: The Arrival of Family

“This time we’re looking for an expert?” Kong Ge frowned.

“Even if not a true expert, at least someone who’s done their homework,” Forensic Zhang agreed with Kong Ge.

“Was there anything else going on with the victim before she was killed?” Yan Xue asked. Although there were aspects of this job that couldn’t be avoided, she still phrased her question discreetly.

Forensic Zhang understood immediately. “No, we’ve already confirmed that just now. However, there was residual vomit in her mouth. We suspect she was already heavily intoxicated before she was killed—likely vomited, then went to her room intending to sleep, and was attacked in that state.”

“She really let the wolf into her house,” Qi Tianhua sighed, shaking his head. He felt regret, even though he’d never met her; after all, a vibrant life cut short in her twenties, at the peak of youth, would weigh on anyone’s heart.

“Forensic Zhang, you go ahead, the scene will probably require some effort!” Kong Ge thanked him, then gestured to Yan Xue. “Let’s try our luck and see if such a big house has any surveillance cameras!”

Yan Xue nodded and followed Kong Ge out of the secondary bedroom, wandering through the rest of the house.

After circling the place, Yan Xue found it was a sprawling flat with five bedrooms, two living rooms, and two bathrooms. One secondary bedroom by the entrance had been converted into a storage room, crammed with miscellaneous items; perhaps for that reason, it showed no trace of garbage.

The master bedroom was next; its door had originally been locked, but after the murder, to ensure the victim was the only casualty, the lock had been forcibly opened. Luckily, the room was spotless, indicating it had remained locked and untouched during the previous night’s revelry.

Of the remaining two bedrooms, one was furnished as a guest room, and the other looked like a study, with a wall of bookshelves and an imposing desk. There were no signs of anyone having entered; unlike the master, it wasn’t locked, but apparently the masquerade guests simply had no interest in such a place.

Yan Xue noticed that aside from the obvious surfaces, which were relatively clean, less visible spots in the study were covered in thick dust. Curious, she touched a few oddly placed tomes with her gloved hand, only to find they were hollow prop books.

The dining area featured a locked liquor cabinet, stocked with genuine high-end spirits. From this, Yan Xue surmised the household’s style and character.

Most striking were the countless selfies and artistic portraits of the victim scattered throughout the house. In these photos, her makeup was heavier than when she died, but she appeared as a delicate and attractive young woman.

After searching the entire home, they found only one surveillance camera—tossed carelessly in a corner of the living room, not even plugged in. Thus, the only video evidence they could obtain would be from the elevator and stairwell cameras.

According to the property management, the downstairs neighbor had previously lived there, but after frequent complaints about noise from above, eventually moved out for reasons unknown. The apartment remained unsold and vacant.

So there were no neighbors to interview.

Kong Ge and Yan Xue joined the others in helping the forensic team process the scene, working until late morning before finally finishing. Everyone felt particularly exhausted.

No matter how shocking a crime scene, they’d grown used to it; no matter how thoroughly cleaned, they’d seen it before. But such chaos and filth—they hadn’t encountered anything like this in quite some time.

Afterward, on their way back to the precinct, Kong Ge, Yan Xue, Luo Wei, and another colleague stopped at a breakfast shop for a quick bowl of hot noodle soup, easing their hunger from hours of work. Then they hurried back; much remained to be done—reviewing all the surveillance footage, confirming the identities of the twenty-plus party guests, and contacting the victim’s family to notify them and arrange the necessary procedures.

After a swift division of labor, Yan Xue was tasked with contacting the victim’s family. She’d already obtained their numbers from the property office. According to them, Lin Zhen, the girl in question, lived alone, and her parents were not local and rarely visited.

The property staff didn’t know their exact whereabouts, so Yan Xue wasn’t sure what to expect when calling.

Fortunately, the call connected quickly. A man answered; Yan Xue confirmed his identity as Lin Zhen’s father, introduced herself, and was about to explain when he laughed.

“Oh, so you’re a police officer from the public security bureau? Is Zhen Zhen in trouble again, another fine? How much this time? Is a hundred thousand enough? Has she got her eye on something again? If it’s a car, I’m not paying, that’s way over budget!” He rambled, unconcerned.

“Excuse me, is there some misunderstanding? I’m a detective from the W City Public Security Bureau. Your daughter—”

“Alright, alright, I get it! Whatever she wants this time, just have her tell me directly. Don’t let you young people play jokes on me!” Lin Zhen’s father interrupted, laughing and dismissive.

Yan Xue was at a loss. She’d encountered parents in denial or who suspected scams, but never someone like this.

“Mr. Lin, I am not joking, nor am I your daughter’s friend. I am Detective Yan Xue from the W City Public Security Bureau, investigating your daughter’s case. Please take this seriously.”

“Huh?” Lin Zhen’s father seemed caught off guard by her serious tone. “So… it’s not a prank to get money out of me? What happened to Zhen Zhen? Did she hurt someone? If you need compensation for medical expenses, I’m fine with that!”

“It’s not about medical bills. The incident involves Lin Zhen herself,” Yan Xue said. His good-natured attitude made communication difficult, so she decided to be direct. “Lin Zhen is dead.”

“What?!” His voice shot up. “Is that true? How could that be!”

“We need you and Lin Zhen’s mother to come confirm the victim’s identity and handle the necessary procedures.”

“Alright, alright! It’s the W City Public Security Bureau, right? Not anywhere else, you’re sure? This is no joke?”

“We would never joke about a life. Are you not local? When can you arrive?”

“Hold on, driving would take too long. Let me check the earliest high-speed train,” Lin Zhen’s father replied. Hearing Yan Xue’s certainty, he was clearly shaken and promised to come as quickly as possible; his voice now carried an imperceptible tremor.

Yan Xue exchanged contact details with him, reminding him to send her his ticket information and arrival time once booked.

Meanwhile, Kong Ge and the others weren’t making rapid progress with the surveillance review. The stairwell footage was the quickest—only one camera on the first floor, and few residents in the building thanks to the convenient elevator. Only the cleaning staff appeared on the stairs that day.

The elevator footage was much trickier. The guests arrived in heavy makeup, crowded together, making it hard to get clear shots of their faces. When they left, they were scattered, mostly drunk and disheveled. Occasionally, a few faces could be seen, but their makeup was smeared beyond recognition.

Identifying anyone under these circumstances was extremely difficult.

Forensics also reported that over thirty distinct fingerprints were collected at the scene, yet none matched anyone with a criminal record.

The rough count from the video suggested just over twenty people attended the party, but the fingerprints indicated more—perhaps others had visited previously, or some arrived early. Both possibilities had to be considered.

Fortunately, Kong Ge had the foresight to save elevator footage from prior days, thinking it might help identify witnesses, even if not directly related to Lin Zhen’s murder.

When Yan Xue and Kong Ge spoke with the property staff, they inquired about housekeeping, since Lin Zhen lived alone in such a large flat. The property office said Lin Zhen had a domestic helper, though most were transient, often changing after a few weeks or months—common in the complex.

One cleaner stood out; during a gap in housekeeping, Lin Zhen paid the property’s cleaning staff extra to do basic tidying at her home. The cleaner, tempted by the generous pay, agreed. After a while, property management discovered the arrangement and, after warnings, the cleaner resigned. Lin Zhen soon hired a new helper, and the property only tracked their comings and goings, knowing little else.

Qi Tianhua interviewed the former cleaner, an elderly woman in her sixties. She had little to say, noting Lin Zhen either went out frequently or stayed home for long periods. Sometimes she brought friends over, and the next day, the cleaner would find empty bottles and such.

Lin Zhen’s guests came from all walks of life—men and women, some older, some obviously still students.

Though Lin Zhen had often had visitors, she’d never left the house in such a chaotic state as this time.

About four hours after Yan Xue made the call, she checked the time and, judging it about right, took Kong Ge to the train station to meet the victim’s family.

Arriving at the station, they didn’t wait long before Lin Zhen’s parents appeared, visibly anxious. Upon meeting Yan Xue and Kong Ge, they carefully inspected their identification, afraid they’d traveled so far only to fall into a scam.

After confirming their identities, the parents’ expressions did not brighten. Instead, they looked even more pale and bewildered.