Chapter 81: Severed Throat

2022-05-20

We mobilized everyone we had and started searching on the northern hillside of the villa district for Wang Yikai’s body. After two hours of combing through the woods, our efforts finally paid off—we found Wang Yikai’s corpse. When he died, he was still wearing his security guard uniform and hat.

Looking over the external condition of the body, there was only one visible wound. A thin cut ran across his throat, right below the Adam’s apple. Slipping on my gloves, I gently pressed both sides of the neck wound, moving the flesh a bit. Fresh blood still oozed out with the shift.

That meant Wang Yikai hadn’t been dead long. Judging by the location and nature of the injury, his cause of death was having both his trachea and major blood vessels severed. The killer had acted quickly, since this clearly wasn’t the original crime scene. There was barely any blood here—far too little for such a fatal wound.

“Call Guan Zengbin. Tell her she doesn’t need to come, we’ll bring the body to her,” I said after checking the corpse. “Keep searching. This place is definitely not where the murder happened.”

No sooner had I finished than someone shouted, “There’s a ton of blood over here—this must be the primary scene!”

A few of us followed the shout, spotting someone waving from about five or six meters away. We hurried over and saw it—thick blood pooled in the undergrowth. The blood had sprayed out in an arc, pointing right toward where the body had now been found.

Following the sprayed blood, we saw more—on branches, on the ground. Some streaked as if from a spray, others just dripped where they fell.

“There are bloody handprints here.” Gu Chen motioned me over.

I glanced in the direction Gu Chen indicated—and there they were. Bloody handprints smudged along the bark. Judging by the continuity and direction of the blood on the ground and the prints on the trees, an imagined scene started to form in my mind.

I closed my eyes and put myself in Wang Yikai’s shoes. I was him, arriving at the agreed location ahead of time. Someone was already there, waiting. They handed me a bag of cash. I thanked them and was about to leave when suddenly a blade pressed cold and hard against my throat.

The person who handed over the cash grabbed my briefcase, then with their other hand, they quickly slashed my neck. I tried to scream for help, but only a dry, raspy hiss escaped my lips. No sound came out; I couldn’t call for help at all.

Just then, a woman carrying Liu Feier arrived at the scene.

That’s when it hit me: from the very start, these people never intended to let me walk away alive.

And then—they vanished into the woods.

I could feel my life draining away, desperation setting in. If I didn’t get back to the villa district, I’d never have a chance. Stumbling forward, I clutched my neck tightly with one hand, struggling to cover the wound. But it was too deep. Five or six meters was all I managed before collapsing to the ground, spent.

That’s when I lay there, waiting for death.

Everything around me faded to black. It was as if everyone else had vanished—I was utterly alone. Uncontrollable shivers made my whole body tremble. The world felt hollow, and I was sure I’d never come back.

Then, someone patted me on the shoulder.

My eyes flew open. Sweat dripped down my forehead without me even realizing it; my clothes were soaked through.

“Are you okay?” Gu Chen gave my shoulder another pat. “You alright?”

I took a few deep breaths and forced a calm response. “I’m fine.”

Rubbing my temples, I tried to shake the feeling. For a moment, it was like I’d truly become someone else. That’s the early warning of guilt delusion—a symptom I never once experienced during my stint at the psychiatric hospital. Does working a case always trigger it for me?

But what else could I even do if I wasn’t solving cases?

Not wanting anyone to catch on, I quickly changed the topic. “Judging by the scene, the victim’s throat was slashed here and he made it another five or six meters before collapsing where we found him. Which means the killer had to be fast, precise, and ruthless. There’s not a single drop of blood on the killer’s trail. How’d they manage that?”

Gu Chen thought for a second, then said, “Let me use your neck for a moment.”

He circled behind me, reached out with his right hand, and swiftly mimed a cut across my throat. Clearly, he was simulating the attack.

After a moment’s thought, Gu Chen said with certainty, “The killer was professionally trained. My guess—they used a dagger or similar blade to make a quick, clean cut on Wang Yikai’s throat, then left immediately. Because they moved so fast, the full force of the blood only burst out after they’d gone.”

“Brutal,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “But… is anyone even capable of that?”

Gu Chen nodded. “If the knife’s sharp enough and you’re quick, it’s possible.”

If there really was someone like that involved, this started looking more and more like the work of professionals. I couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling—putting on such a huge operation, they must want a lot of money. Or maybe, something more.

“Let’s get going,” I told everyone. “Bring the body back.”

Xiao Liu shot me a meaningful look, as if he wanted to say something but held back. I just sighed and gave him a small smile.

I kept silent on the ride back, idly massaging my temples. For some reason, Zhao Mingkun drifted into my mind. I remembered that brief time alone with her in the Linfen tomb—those strange, indescribable feelings.

So what now? If I run into her again, what will I say?

When we got the body to the autopsy room, Guan Zengbin was already waiting for us. She was poised, holding a scalpel and sitting quietly in her chair, looking almost like a diner in a Western restaurant awaiting her meal.

“Didn’t expect another one so soon.” Guan Zengbin stood up, then added, “The skin that was on that lipstick is out for DNA comparison. The database isn’t big—if we get a match, great. If not, we’ll find another way.”

I nodded. Guan Zengbin always thought things through.

She turned to me. “Any movement on the other side? Called Liu Yinyan with demands yet?”

I shrugged and settled into a chair. “No, probably not tonight. My guess is, they’re busy tying up loose ends. The calmer they stay, the more anxious Liu Yinyan will get. When the pressure builds, he’ll agree to anything.”

Guan Zengbin began undressing the corpse, listening as I spoke and preparing for the autopsy.

I watched her scalpel glide gently into the dead man’s skin. “They’re playing mind games right now. The first to break loses. If it were up to me, I’d call on the third day—by the time there’s still no word, Liu Yinyan will be desperate enough to cling to hope. That’s when mistakes happen.”

Guan Zengbin peeled back skin and muscle to reveal the internal organs. “Liu Yinyan is one of the top figures in Dongxing City. I think he can hold steady. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived and thrived in the cutthroat world of capital. Don’t worry too much.”

I waved her off. “Even the toughest people have weak spots. Maybe he’s cold and calculating as a venture capitalist, but as a father? You saw for yourself—he’s just a regular old man. Liu Feier is his weakness, and people with weaknesses are easier to handle.”

We both fell silent. I watched Guan Zengbin work. She took her time with steady, precise movements—almost graceful, though there’s something odd about calling it that under these circumstances.

“The victim died of asphyxiation,” she said softly. “This cut is extremely deep. The trachea and carotid artery were both severed. Blood flowed backward into the lungs and caused suffocation. The whole process took about three to six minutes. See how narrow and uniform this wound is? No ragged edges. That means the weapon was sharper—and thinner—than a standard dagger. Probably a razor blade or something similar, but for a wound that deep, it’d need to be pretty sturdy too.”

I nodded.

Guan Zengbin started stitching up the corpse. “No other injuries—just this fatal one. Time of death was around two hours ago.”

A thought hit me—those wuxia novels where a master slices an enemy’s throat in one blow, then calmly sheathes the sword and walks away. The victim only realizes it when blood bursts from their neck and they collapse to the ground.

Could the killer be a martial arts expert?

Just as I was pondering that, Gu Chen came bursting through the door.

He looked excited, like he’d discovered something. I quickly asked, “What happened?”

Gu Chen grinned. “Hurry, get to the office! The DNA results from the lipstick are in. One matches Liu Feier, but the other—we’ve found out who left the skin!”

“You mean—” I was almost in disbelief. “You’ve already identified them?”

Gu Chen nodded and announced to both of us, “The tests show his name is Chen Lin. He was sentenced to death with reprieve for murder. Three years ago, he escaped, and no one’s seen him since. But now, he’s turned up here.”

Guan Zengbin was nearly done stitching up the body when I said, “Let’s go to the office. I can’t believe this fugitive is involved.”

“A fugitive woman?”

Gu Chen shook his head. “Not a woman—a man.”

“A man?”