I sprinted across the road, gaining ground until I reached the spot where that figure had just stood, catching sight of a black hem fluttering near the distant turn. Idiot, I will catch you!

I quickened my pace towards that direction, but before I could draw near, the corner of the garment vanished. Reaching the turn, I saw the silhouette deep within the alley, its back to me, its footsteps distinctly accelerating. It seemed he had noticed me, so I cast caution aside and bolted forward, shouting for him to stop. However, the figure wasn't foolish enough to be caught that easily; he fled forward with even greater speed, soon disappearing into the labyrinth of the alley.

I continued down the alley, and as I neared the exit, I was suddenly stunned to see a luxurious villa looming at the far end: wasn't this Ouyang Min’s residence?

Could it be that the person was intentionally leading me here?

A question immediately surfaced in my mind: if so, what was his objective?

Just as I was puzzling over this, Lan Jinxuan’s figure appeared before me. Every time I saw her smile, I felt a rare sense of belonging, a comforting solace washing over me.

“Well?” Before my 'younger sister Lan' could even reach me, I began inquiring about her ‘haul.’

Younger Sister Lan frowned slightly, glancing back at the lavish villa before speaking slowly, “It’s very strange. When she first heard the news, she only showed a flicker of surprise, followed immediately by utter indifference, as if the deceased wasn’t her husband but some complete stranger. Is their relationship really that fractured?”

Regarding Mu Anmian, I held my own view. She wasn't someone who easily displayed her emotions, and simultaneously, she was adept at concealing them. Thus, she wouldn't casually expose her wounds to others. Or perhaps, Ouyang Min's infidelity had filled her with resentment, this resentment overshadowing any affection she held for her husband, leaving her in a state of detached calm.

Seeing Lan Jinxuan looking utterly lost, I reached out and gently stroked the curve of her brow, teasing her, “Wrinkles sneak in everywhere; you must be vigilant.”

Younger Sister Lan unceremoniously slapped my hand away, clutching her forehead and retorting stubbornly, “So what if I get wrinkles? I’ll scare you to death with them when I’m older!”

I grinned wickedly, “It doesn’t matter if I’m scared to death, but being unable to find a husband is what’s truly heartbreaking.”

“Well, I won't cling to you then!” Younger Sister Lan said angrily, refusing to look at me.

That phrase sounded familiar, but this wasn't the time for romantic dalliances. So, I said, “Let’s head back quickly; we still have plenty waiting for us.”

Sitting on the bus back, I stealthily glanced at Younger Sister Lan beside me, only to find she had somehow produced a small mirror and was scrutinizing her brow.

A true case of saying one thing and meaning another, I thought with a smile, continuing to pretend ignorance while watching the satellite television on the bus.

As soon as we returned to the precinct, a palpable heaviness settled upon me. In about a week’s time, three people had died consecutively, and the investigation had stalled with virtually no progress. The pressure from both above and below was immense. The entire office building felt strained under this intensity; even those unconnected to the case lacked the heart for small talk, offering only quick nods upon meeting.

“Hey! Watch out!” Lan Jinxuan’s voice suddenly cried out. Before I could react, I collided violently with someone, stumbling backward several steps.

“Are you okay?!” Seeing I was bumped, Younger Sister Lan neglected me and instead showed concern for the person who hit me—a fact that ignited a small fire in my chest.

Even with the beautiful Miss Lan showing concern, the person who bumped me didn't spare her even a second glance, instead fixing his gaze on me. More accurately, he was staring me down as if I had excavated the graves of his ancestors for eighteen generations.

This man's stare sent a chill through me, but the hatred was utterly baffling. Was it merely because I jostled him, or perhaps he harbored an intense, lifelong hatred for anyone who bumped into him?

Just as I was about to question the ill-mannered fellow, he abruptly turned his head and rushed away, the intense hatred vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

Baffling. Why have I been running into so many inexplicable people lately?

“That guy! Didn't even say sorry after knocking someone over,” I grumbled while walking toward our office nearby.

“Maybe he was in a real hurry. But he looked like he was coming out of our office just now; perhaps he needed something,” Younger Sister Lan observed, looking behind her at the disappearing figure, then ahead at our door.

“Probably. Our office is tucked away back here; regular people don't usually wander over unless they have a reason,” I finished saying, pushing open our door.

Everyone was there, of course, except for our elusive Lord Jiang, who was rarely seen.

As soon as I walked in, Gao Jianning whistled loudly, his lewd gaze making it instantly clear what he was thinking. Indeed, Xiao Cuo’s mouth, just like Gao Jianning’s, was hard to tame; those two were birds of a feather.

I walked over to that brat Gao Jianning and, without a word, gave him a rap on the head: “You lot look idle enough to be tired of living, don’t you?” Then I shot a glare at Xiao Cuo, who was stifling a laugh like an imperial eunuch guarding the harem.

“Who was that person who just came to our office?” Shifting the topic, I asked about the man from the corridor.

“Oh, him? From the Forensics Department. Apparently, he’s mute; people in other offices haven't heard him speak either,” Gao Jianning reported first. Such trivial details were likely only sought out by someone as terminally bored as him.

“He’s You Qiaolin’s student, and his assistant, delivering Ouyang Min’s autopsy report,” Zhang Jiewei stated calmly from the side. Professionalism versus amateurism was evident in that single sentence.

“Is that so? Quite fast,” I smiled, surprised that You Qiaolin’s student was mute—and a rude mute at that.

Zhang Jiewei handed me the autopsy report. I scanned it; the general findings were consistent with the situation in Liutaihe City, but one final entry made my heart clench again.

Chitin. This substance again. The report indicated that despite the severe charring inside Ouyang Min’s cranial cavity, traces of chitin were still detected. This finding served to link the deaths of Wang Dong, Tao Jiahao, and Ouyang Min once more. I still couldn't fathom why their brains all contained chitin, a substance that shouldn't possibly exist in humans.

What I needed right now was more than just an autopsy report; relatively speaking, I needed You Qiaolin’s expertise. Perhaps only by speaking with him face-to-face could I gain more insight. Paperwork, in most cases, isn't entirely convincing.

With that thought, I turned and left the office.

When I reached the area where You Qiaolin worked, I saw that man who had bumped into me standing at the door—the mute, as Gao Jianning called him.

This time, I wasn't there to call him out, nor was I the petty sort. I nodded at him. He probably guessed my intention and gestured with his eyes that You Qiaolin was inside, though his expression remained inexplicably unfriendly.

I wonder if he treats everyone this way. What is certain is that someone so constantly vigilant must be so isolated he has no friends. His vigilance is a fortress wall; it might not successfully repel enemies, but it’s certainly effective at keeping out all friendliness.

I stepped into You Qiaolin’s workspace. The first thing I saw wasn't You Qiaolin, but a naked, dissected corpse, with You Qiaolin collecting something from the victim’s toenail.

I didn't know if he noticed my sudden arrival, and I remained silent, waiting quietly, observing the bloody, mangled body.

At that moment, You Qiaolin’s assistant walked in carrying a tray of instruments. He ignored me, proceeding directly to You Qiaolin’s side to set down the various tools. I glanced at them; despite the number, they were arranged with meticulous order, suggesting he, like You Qiaolin, was a highly rigorous individual.

I watched You Qiaolin with growing curiosity, wondering where he found such a precise, highly defensive mute who would harbor such fury over a simple collision.

Fine beads of sweat dotted You Qiaolin’s forehead. His intense focus on his work kept external distractions at bay, and the stillness of his mind flowed from the eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

Only after You Qiaolin had collected every minute piece of evidence from the deceased did he finally look up. “Take these for analysis,” he instructed his assistant, then began removing his gloves and walked toward me.

“What can I do for you?” You Qiaolin asked me lightly. His face looked quite young, yet he always possessed an aura that made me feel he could see right through people.

“Haha, nothing much, just interested in your work, hoping to learn a little,” I replied with a smile.

“Oh? Thinking of changing careers?” Originally expecting me to consult on a case, You Qiaolin couldn't help but joke upon hearing my answer.

“Even if I wanted to switch to your department, I doubt you’d take me. Was that man just now your assistant?” Now that the other man had left, I asked You Qiaolin.

“Yes, my student. He’s been with me for a while; very diligent in his work. It’s a pity he’s deaf and mute,” You Qiaolin said, letting out a soft sigh.

“Deaf and mute? But I clearly saw you speaking to him just now?”

I had only heard from Gao Jianning that he was mute; no one had mentioned he was deaf.

“Oh, he reads lips. Communication isn’t too difficult,” You Qiaolin clarified my confusion.

“I see. He must be quite capable to catch your eye as your exclusive assistant.” I mused, and my previous irritation toward the man dissolved.

“His abilities are indeed excellent. In the future, he will surely surpass his teacher,” You Qiaolin said, revealing a rare smile of satisfaction when speaking of his star pupil.

You Qiaolin tidied up slightly and turned back to me. “This isn't the best place. Let’s discuss whatever it is in my office.”

I nodded slightly. It seemed he was skilled not only at dissecting corpses but also at dissecting human intention; he had already figured out why I was there.

You Qiaolin had a private office in the Forensic Bureau, equipped with resources that rivaled our own department, which couldn't even confirm if it had official staffing. I wondered why a mere forensic examiner needed such a fully kitted-out office. Did You Qiaolin possess some extraordinary merit that justified the City of Anyin Public Security Bureau—known for its stinginess—spending so lavishly on him?

After circling the office once, I casually chose a seat. I’ve always been this way: capable of living freely even on someone else’s turf, but absolutely intolerant of others moving or touching things on mine.

“You must be here to discuss Ouyang Min. But wasn't the autopsy report clear enough?” You Qiaolin sat down across the desk from me. He had only guessed half of my true reason for visiting.

“The autopsy report was clear enough on that matter, but I wanted to ask about something else,” I replied, looking at You Qiaolin. My trip to Liutaihe City had yielded significant insights, allowing me to speculate on the unnatural aspects of this case from a different angle.

“What is it?” You Qiaolin leaned slightly forward, showing keen interest.

“Have you ever heard of Qishi?” Given You Qiaolin’s experience, I was certain he wouldn't be unfamiliar with the term "Qishi" (Corpse Rising/Revenant).

“Of course, I have. It’s a widely circulated concept in the Tibetan regions,” You Qiaolin pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, then placed his hands back on the desk to continue. “But it’s just a legend. Is that what you intend to discuss today?”

“Certainly not. Surely you haven't forgotten that night’s events? Wang Dong’s shamble incident—you were a witness. And shortly after, Tao Jiahao also shambled, which I saw firsthand. Finally, Ouyang Min—I am now eighty percent certain he was dead before he even left the hotel room in Qitaihe City.” I knew You Qiaolin hadn't seen the surveillance footage of Ouyang Min at the Moer Taide Hotel in Qitaihe City, but professional trust allowed him to visualize it.

“Is that so?” You Qiaolin’s expression became somewhat peculiar.

I nodded. “What I most want to know from you today is about Qishi.”

“Actually, regarding Qishi, I only heard about it from the older generation a long time ago.”

You Qiaolin adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses again, his expression growing serious as he began to explain to me.

“Qishi is equivalent to a walking corpse—it refers to a person who rises up after death to wander about wildly, even harming the living. In Tibetan, it’s called ‘Rulag’ (referring to a revenant), signifying that after certain evil or starved individuals die, their residual malevolence, still clinging to unfinished business or unfulfilled desires, causes them to rise as a Qishi to complete their wicked acts or seek the sustenance they lacked in life. A prerequisite for Qishi is that the corpse must be completely intact. Furthermore, Qishi is not a sudden event but one preceded by omens. When a corpse is about to become a Qishi, its face will bloat, its skin turns a purplish-black, the hair stands on end, and blisters appear on the body. Then the corpse will slowly open its eyes, sit up, and finally stand and walk straight ahead. All Qishi share a common trait: they cannot speak, bend over, or turn around, and their eyeballs won't even move. The terror of a Qishi lies in the fact that upon encountering a living person, it will use its stiff hand to ‘touch the crown’ (head), instantly killing the living person and turning them into a Qishi as well. However, this bizarre and horrifying effect is entirely ineffective on other animals. Currently, what people commonly refer to as Qishi is divided into five types: Skin Rising (Fūqǐ), Flesh Rising (Ròuqǐ), Blood Rising (Xuèqǐ), Bone Rising (Gǔqǐ), and Mole Rising (Zhìqǐ), with the degree of horror and difficulty in dealing with them increasing in that order.”

Whether it was an illusion or not, I felt that You Qiaolin discussed these matters without any sense of horror; rather, he seemed deeply interested, almost to the point of enjoyment. I suspected this was related to his profession; who would choose to be a medical examiner if they didn't possess a profound fascination with corpses?

I believed what You Qiaolin said because I had indeed heard similar legends and anecdotes about Qishi from people around me before. Thus, I asked, “Which situation do the deceased in our case fall under?”

“None of them,” You Qiaolin replied definitively.

“Then what caused this situation? Or are there other methods to control their behavior?”

Nothing in the world happens without cause; existence implies a reason. Whether it is a shambling corpse, a rising revenant, or a startled corpse, if the body moves, there is a reason behind it—even if it was just me pushing it with my hand.

Hearing my question, You Qiaolin pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up, his expression serious. “After the Wang Dong and Tao Jiahao cases occurred, I thoroughly contemplated this issue, and the answer is—yes!”