Beside a somewhat mottled vermilion iron gate, an elderly woman lay prostrate on the ground, wailing in heart-wrenching sobs. Several other women stood clustered around her, trying to help her to her feet while murmuring words of comfort. Those with the deepest sympathy wiped away their own silent tears.
A thick stench of blood rode the breeze toward them. They had not even crossed the threshold, yet the horrific scene awaiting inside was already apparent.
The three of them donned gloves and masks, then slipped on shoe covers before stepping through the gate.
Behind the door lay a typical rural courtyard, dotted here and there with vegetable patches. Beneath a tomato trellis heavy with a few ripe red fruits sprawled a corpse, covered by a white sheet that had been soaked through with crimson from head to toe. The body’s rough outline was still visible, and from the exposed feet—one clad in a solitary pink slipper—it was clearly that of a young woman.
A trail of blood stretched from beneath her all the way to the main hall door. There, hooked over the doorframe, dangled a pale, lifeless hand, its rigid, crooked fingers frozen in the final pose of grasping desperately for something.
Yan Tuo did not venture farther into the yard. Instead, he paused and scanned the surroundings. Fang Ping arrived a few minutes later with his assistant, Little Liu. They hurried past their own leader and into the hall.
Moments later, someone rushed out to report. “The brutality here is beyond words. It wasn’t enough for them to hack away with bricks and axes—they stabbed and sliced with knives too. There are wounds everywhere, too many to count, and multiple bodies. If we want results fast, we’ll need backup.”
Yan Tuo knew the drill. The Medical University Affiliated Appraisal Center’s building sat right next to the city bureau’s, making it convenient for such collaborations between forensics teams. “Got it,” he replied immediately. “I’ll call Director Xu. Secure the scene, then send the bodies straight over.”
Fang Ping nodded and ducked back inside. Yan Tuo climbed the stone steps to the hall entrance, peering in from the doorway.
Bai Yiyi perched obediently on his shoulder, taking in the full horror within.
Blood splattered everywhere. Three bodies lay sprawled on the floor, one of them a tiny infant curled in the corner by the wall.
The technical group’s two forensic doctors were busy photographing the scene. Yan Tuo did not disturb them but slipped quietly up the stairs beside them to the second floor.
The nightmare repeated itself. Another two men and two women lay dead in their respective rooms.
The most mutilated was a male corpse, hacked beyond recognition as human. Nearby lay a shattered half-brick, stained a dark black-red, which a member of the technical group had marked with white paint and sealed in a plastic bag—likely one of the murder weapons.
What grudge, what hatred could drive someone to such frenzy?
Bai Yiyi fought to steady his trembling bird legs, forcing his mind to reframe the gruesome sight as an animated cartoon. Even so, the nausea churned within him. He turned his head slightly, nestling against his owner’s neck to breathe slowly and calm himself.
Fortunately, Yan Tuo did not linger long. He descended the stairs and strode out of the courtyard, wandering aimlessly around the perimeter.
Half an hour passed with no obvious clues discovered. Instead, two or three children trailed at a distance, eager to play with the bird.
He completed a circuit and returned to the gate, where the crowd of onlookers had swelled. Cao Yiman and Sun Lei were busy conducting interviews and taking notes. Bai Yiyi watched as one loquacious old man held forth, gossiping endlessly about the victims’ ancestors and speculating wildly on the killer’s identity. A sudden thought struck him.
If the system could read the minds of every living thing within ten meters, what if the killer was right here in the crowd? It would be a slam dunk.
Even if not, knowing the true thoughts of these people could only help the investigation. The only challenge was how to relay the information to his owner without arousing suspicion.
He acted on the idea at once, and the system obliged promptly.
It was all for naught. Thirty or forty onlookers shared much the same thoughts: regret mixed with morbid curiosity. Nothing useful emerged.
The killer was not among them.
Bai Yiyi felt deflated. Had he watched too much Conan? Did he really think the golden finger was infallible, that he’d snag the culprit just like that?
As he mocked himself inwardly, a yellow mongrel dog burst from a hole in the courtyard wall. It glanced at the crowd, then bolted away down the road.
No sign of a dog inside the yard earlier. Where had this one come from?
No leads on people, but maybe animals had seen something. Lightning fast, the idea hit him, and he took to the air in pursuit.
His owner called out in surprise—”Tangyuan!”—and broke into a jog after him.
The dog darted through two alleys before halting by a refuse pile on the field ridge, eyeing its surroundings warily.
Bai Yiyi alighted on a nearby boulder and tasked the system with probing.
The system reported: “It’s been thinking the whole time: No wonder there’s no food today—the whole family’s dead. Guess it’ll be dumpster diving for a while again.”
Bai Yiyi: “Ask it if it saw who the killer was.”
Yan Tuo had reached the alley mouth by then. Spotting Bai Yiyi, he stopped short, brow furrowed as he caught his breath.
The mongrel suddenly panicked, whipping its head around frantically, turning in circles two or three times. It barked twice in false bravado, then dove into the adjacent cornfield and vanished.
The system replied with regret: “I startled it by speaking in its mind. It didn’t answer at all, but I don’t think it knows anything. When it heard ‘killer,’ its mind went completely blank—no images at all.”
It added sincerely: “Whirlwind was so much more reliable last time. Stayed totally calm when I talked to it.”
Bai Yiyi grumbled to himself: Of course—a stray mutt versus a trained police dog?
No answers as hoped, he felt thoroughly glum. No sooner had the thought arisen than he took wing again, leaving his baffled owner to chase after him through this unfamiliar place. Was Tangyuan afraid of getting lost?
They had agreed no solo adventures. Yan Tuo must be furious and disappointed now.
Bai Yiyi glanced back toward the alley mouth, then drooped dejectedly onto his owner’s shoulder, slumping in a picture of contrition.
To his surprise, Yan Tuo said nothing of reproach. Instead, he asked thoughtfully: “That yellow mutt ran out of the victims’ yard, so you followed it?”
Bai Yiyi’s bird eyes lit up. His spirits soared. Heavens, the captain was divine—he had guessed the intent perfectly. If only he’d been able to deliver, to live up to that insight and trust.
Owner and pet retraced their steps along the alley to the scene. The old man who had just speculated on the killer covering the whole village was still going strong. Bai Yiyi had never seen such a nonstop talker—his stamina rivaled that of the nosiest aunts and great-aunts.
The victims: a family of eight, plus their social ties, were now reasonably clear.
Sun Lei shuffled her notes and summarized.
The household head was Li You, 62 years old. His wife was Tian Caihua, 60. They had four children: one son and three daughters.
The son, Li Wanquan, was 33, and married to a 27-year-old local woman named Huang Lu. The middle-aged woman who had been wailing at the Li family gate since dawn was Huang Lu’s mother—a case of white-haired parents burying their black-haired child.
The infant was the young couple’s newborn son, who had just had his hundred-day celebration.
By all accounts, the Li family was well-off but kind and generous, never involved in quarrels. They were known throughout the village as good souls. This sudden calamity left everyone stunned and grieving.
The attack had occurred in the dead of night. The Li family’s two-story house stood a bit apart from the others, so no one heard the screams. Come morning, the bodies were cold. Huang Lu’s mother had come bearing fresh milk for her grandson when she made the gruesome discovery.
Sun Lei finished, and those around her sighed deeply. Yan Tuo pondered in silence, no threads emerging. Remembering the long chase, he turned to the chatty old man and asked offhand: “Did the Li family own a dog? A yellow mongrel.”
The old man first denied it, then paused as if struck by a memory. “That’d be Da Hei, I reckon.”
Sun Lei interjected curiously: “A yellow dog named Da Hei?”
The old man: “Heh, we’re in Huangshaliao, aren’t we? Half the folks in these villages have the surname Huang. Can’t name a dog Da Huang or Xiao Huang—that’d be like cursing people.”
Yan Tuo cut off his rambling. “Name doesn’t matter. If it’s theirs, it’s theirs. If not, it’s not. Speak plainly.”
The old man explained: “Chief, our village is peaceful—little things don’t get split hairs over whose is whose. That dog? No one knows who whelped it. It’s roamed these parts since it was a pup, scrounging scraps from one house, a scrap of meat from another. A real village dog, everyone calls it Da Hei.
“Say, speaking of which—last month, Da Hei bit little Huang Liu’s girl from the next village over. The Li family covered the medical bills, even took her to town for rabies shots. Tell me Li You isn’t a stand-up guy?”
Yan Tuo offered no opinion, only pressed on: “What does Huang Liu do?”
A nearby auntie piped up: “I know this—my niece married into that area. Huang Liu’s a mute. Runs his own brickyard. Red bricks aren’t selling well these days, so he scrapes by. The girl isn’t his by blood—he picked her up somewhere—but he dotes on her like the apple of his eye. The day Da Hei bit her, that mute stormed over with the kid in tow, looking for the dog’s owner. Face like thunder, like he wanted to devour someone whole.”
Hearing this, Bai Yiyi thought of the half red brick in the evidence bag, and a sudden idea flashed through his mind. But on second thought, would anyone really wipe out an entire family of eight over something so trivial? And it wasn’t even the proper owner of the dog—they had already paid compensation and apologized.
Yan Tuo didn’t dismiss this faint suspicion. If there was doubt, they should go verify it.
He called out right away, asking the auntie to lead the way. Together with Cao Yiman and Sun Lei, they headed to Huang Liu’s home in the neighboring village to investigate. Bai Yiyi, naturally, stayed obediently perched on his owner’s shoulder.
They had just reached the village entrance when they ran into the village secretary, who was on his way to visit family in the city. After a quick exchange of greetings, the secretary took the lead and guided them straight to Huang Liu’s house, chatting along the way about the man’s background.
Huang Liu’s full name was Huang Anli. Due to a physical disability, he was a confirmed bachelor in his early forties. A few years back, he had picked up an abandoned infant and raised her like his own daughter. The villagers took pity on him and handled her household registration without bothering with any formal adoption procedures. Now in the second grade at the village school, the girl was obedient, filial, and an excellent student—everyone sang her praises.
They arrived at an open area where bricks were drying in the sun. After crossing a few steps, they spotted a spacious single-story house with its front door slightly ajar. The village secretary called out in his booming voice a few times, but no one answered.
Yan Tuo and the others had made this trip on short notice without applying for any formal permissions, and they had no intention of forcing their way in. To their surprise, the secretary pushed the door open without a second thought, casually inviting them inside with the carefree attitude typical of rural folk who saw no need for such formalities.
The three of them wandered around the courtyard. Yan Tuo shot Cao Yiman a meaningful glance, and together they turned their attention to the axe propped in the corner. It was spotlessly clean and gleaming brightly—nothing seemed amiss at first glance. But the swarm of flies buzzing around it told a different story.
