“How so?” Fang Si Ting also finished reading all the content, only to see that all the witness testimonies and evidence pointed to Jiang Kangsheng.
The netizens were even more speechless. After reading it themselves, they felt like what they wanted, hammer they got—a wave of silence washed over them, their anger dissipated, their fire extinguished, and they didn’t dare to speak up.
As soon as they heard Xiao Fen say this, they straightened their backs and felt like they could do it again.
【I already told you, Jiang is a cold-blooded scientific killer. Our most professional vice squad officers went to the scene—could there be a more professional judgment than that?】
【If you’re going to say it like that, I’m ready to roast your entire criminal investigation system, from tech to personnel, none of them are up to par.】
【Exactly, Brother Fen just casually flipped through your media reports and caught the loophole.】
【Quickly clear Dr. Jiang’s name.】
【Why do I smell a conspiracy here?】
【I hope Xiao has enough reason to convince me, not just sophistry.】
Xiao Fen looked up from his question, glanced at the person beside him, and his gaze nailed itself to that face.
The shadows in the corner slashed Fang Si Ting’s sharp-angled face into light and dark halves, his eyes beneath lowered brows hidden in obscurity, profound and deep.
His middle finger pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose bridge, the lenses flashing a sliver of silver light as clear coldness clashed with ambiguity, exuding immense deterrence.
“What evidence do you have?” he asked again.
Xiao Fen snapped back to reality, opened his mouth, looked at the messy table, his long dense eyelashes fluttering disorderly, his gaze shuttling through various reports. After flipping for a while, he finally found the report he wanted.
His index finger pointed at some information on a newspaper, his gaze blankly staring ahead, his mind a bit stuck. “That… you, you first open the map, search for 117 Macdonk Street where Claude lives, and, and the walking time from Sherry Restaurant where they dined on the night of the incident, plus the time to the nearby park from his home.”
Fang Si Ting took out his phone. Like before, although he couldn’t watch live streams or access social platforms, other apps still worked.
“Are you nearsighted?” Xiao Fen smelled the unavoidable body fragrance and asked softly while looking down.
“Over a hundred degrees,” his slender fingers tapped the phone screen, head not lifting as he said, “Normally I don’t wear glasses without issue, but the light here is dim, and I don’t want to strain my eyes on such small text.”
“Oh.” Xiao Fen glanced at his face again, his gaze lingering on the fingers in front of the phone.
Distinct knuckles, rough yet powerful.
“I’m still analyzing the case, don’t distract me.” His ears reddened, his porcelain-white cheeks slightly turned toward him, but his eyes and brows lowered, not daring to meet his gaze.
“I didn’t do anything.” Fang Si Ting’s low voice carried a hint of confusion.
Xiao Fen fell silent.
Soon, Fang Si Ting found it on the map.
“From the restaurant to home is about 13 minutes, park 15 minutes—pretty much the same,” he said, somewhat puzzled, then added, “If cycling or driving, just 7 minutes.”
【So the two places are that close? No need to drive then.】
【No driving. You missed info—the newspaper mentions that Claude walked home after dinner that night, so the distance must be close. Brother Fen probably spotted this too, that’s why he had Fang Si Ting check.】
【Fine, I didn’t notice, but what’s the point?】
【No idea.】
【Distance is close, so Jiang could’ve slipped away from Professor Felimon’s sight while using the bathroom or some excuse, killed the guy, then doubled back, using Professor Felimon as his alibi witness.】
【You guys still won’t give up, insisting he’s guilty.】
【That’s a reasonable speculation.】
【I’m not from your two countries, I stand with Brother Fen—he won’t be wrong.】
【Even the wise don’t dare claim they’re never wrong; Xiao Fen is just an amateur celebrity.】
“Are you listening?” Fang Si Ting asked.
“Huh? Yeah.” Xiao Fen gathered his thoughts and said, “You’re a vice squad officer. If he were to be convicted of murder, what evidence would you use to nail him?”
Fang Si Ting pulled out several newspapers, quickly underlining a few lines with a pen, then took out a blank sheet of paper. His well-proportioned fingers gripped the pen, faint veins visible under the light wheat-colored skin of his hand back.
With his movements, neat and vigorous clerical script lines appeared on the paper.
“First, the media says the scene was a locked room,” Fang Si Ting sorted out. “No signs of forced entry on doors or windows, one blackout drunk live person and one dead body inside—easy to convince the jury that Jiang Kangsheng, the live one, killed Claude.”
“Before Jiang Kangsheng entered, there was another person—Claude’s assistant, Joe, who had gone into the house,” Xiao Fen easily countered.
“But when he left, Claude was still alive.”
“Do you think everything a person says facing the media is true?”
Fang Si Ting paused. “It’s possible he lied.” Even interrogations were full of lies.
He immediately followed up, “You suspect he’s the killer?”
“I didn’t say that. Don’t rush, let’s go step by step,” Xiao Fen said. “There’s still a live person in the house, so the locked room doesn’t hold. What other evidence do you have to pin Dr. Jiang as the killer?”
“Dr. Jiang had time to commit the crime.” Fang Si Ting drew a timeline on the paper. “If Claude’s time of death was between 10 and 11 pm, Dr. Jiang arrived at Claude’s home around 10:30, plenty of opportunity, and Joe as witness.”
“But at 10:38, Claude’s ex-wife was already at his doorstep, discovered the body, and called. Assume this: how does a drunk person complete entering, arguing, pushing the guy downstairs, bagging the body, dragging it out some distance then back home, removing it from the bag, and pretending to be blackout drunk to fool everyone—in 8 minutes?”
Fang Si Ting had thought of this too. “But the lawyer would say Dr. Jiang faked being drunk, he’s a regular gym-goer, premeditated the murder since dinner conflict, etc. If he killed right upon entry, quick enough, it’s possible.”
“But those are assumptions; the lawyer needs corroborating evidence to prove your points,” Xiao Fen said.
“You can’t prove he couldn’t do it in 8 minutes either.”
“You forgot a key point.” Xiao Fen turned the paper around, snatched the pen from his hand, and drew on the existing timeline.
“Claude left the restaurant at 8:10. Joe said he came over before 10 to deliver documents, so assume 10 pm, they meet.”
He drew another timeline.
“Dr. Jiang went to chat with his mentor. Later, the mentor checked his phone and realized it was 10:15; they parted. Even without Dr. Jiang’s drunk dawdling, at normal walking speed home, earliest arrival is 10:30.”
“That lines up with Joe’s,” Xiao Fen chewed on the pen holder, leaning back in his chair. “But Joe wasn’t just there briefly—that was half an hour.”
“A drunk with unclear consciousness versus a sober one—Joe has way higher odds of murder,” Fang Si Ting frowned. “We have no evidence; everything points to Dr. Jiang.”
From nail scrapings’ biological debris to the only person present at the time.
“No, there is evidence.” Xiao Fen grinned slyly, pulled out a news article and slapped it on the table, a glint of cunning in his fox eyes. “This is a reporter interviewing the first patrol vice squad officer on scene, arrival at 10:44. By then, the body already showed partial joint rigor mortis and scattered pinpoint livor mortis. Normally, rigor and livor don’t appear that early, but remember: sealed house with floor heating, body on the ground near a hot fireplace. High temps accelerate these, but no matter the heat, the body had been dead at least half an hour, right?”
Fang Si Ting nodded with difficulty, as if realizing something.
“If just 10:44 minus half an hour is 10:14, when Dr. Jiang was still parting with Professor Felimon—impossible for him to commit,” Xiao Fen said. “And the only one left in the house then was Joe.”
The Live Stream Chat exploded.
【I don’t get it—does rigor and livor really happen like that?】
【Generally, symptoms start 1-2 hours post-death, based on temperate seasons. Claude by kitchen fireplace plus floor heating, under complex temp/humidity, yes early partial symptoms like joint stiffening or clear purple-red pinpoint livor in photos at low positions. Regardless, can’t be under half an hour.】
【Forensics can only estimate roughly. They arrived post-11 for autopsy, easy to peg death 10-11 pm—no error, but this case needs precision.】
【Insider here: timelines too tight. By forensics’ 11:20 arrival after patrol report, livor/rigor normal.】
【Anyway, if not Jiang, why admit? Accomplice at least?】
【He confessed already?!】
【You’re bullying people! Dr. Jiang was drunk, went in and crashed on sofa. Joe witnessed Claude alive on exit; no one else when Jiang entered, doors locked—he easily thought in drunken haze he clashed again, accidentally pushed Claude downstairs to death.】
【Yeah, he was wasted, memory fuzzy—you just believe whatever evidence.】
【We speak for Dr. Jiang! Can’t just lock him up casually.】
【Not casual—prior evidence proves murder, he admitted.】
【Now I suspect inducement.】
【Lawyer here, I’ll fly to P Country defend Dr. Jiang—can’t let countryman suffer unfair abroad.】
【Yeah, some unreasonable bits.】 Even the P Country viewers who’d sworn Jiang killed now faltered.
“So the truth is,” Fang Si Ting re-sorted, “Around 10 pm, Joe arrived at Claude’s. For some reason, argument erupted; he pushed him downstairs to death, bagged the body to dump in the back park grove, but accident—Dr. Jiang returns. He hauls body back via back door, greets Jiang casually at front like nothing, then leaves. Right?”
“This…” Xiao Fen hesitated, then said, “Pretty much. Only Joe had time to bag and dump.”
Fang Si Ting removed his glasses, rubbed his nose bridge. “I’ll contact P Country side.”
“Live stream reaches them directly.” Xiao Fen waved at the camera, greeting.
He now waited for Joe’s rebuttal.
“To ensure no mishaps.” Fang Si Ting still got up and headed to the bathroom.
Xiao Fen guessed he was contacting P Country friends, didn’t mind, casually gathered and stowed the scattered reports.
Curiously, he picked up the glasses on the table, tried them on—no nearsightedness, felt dizzy, quickly took them off.
Left and right nose pads and temple tips each engraved a seven-petaled small flower—quite nice.
“Hello, mind if I sit here?”
Xiao Fen looked up from the glasses, fiddling with the slender temple, toward the polite man by the table.
Heir of Aether Energy, Elijah.
