"Wang Dong, Tao Jiahao, and Ouyang Min—the phenomenon they are experiencing, while not technically called qishi [corpse rising], has another term," You Qiaolin spoke, though with a deliberate air of suspense.

"Besides qishi, what else is there?" I hadn't grasped it immediately and began frantically searching my mind for terms related to corpse animation.

"Are you referring to zha-shi [feigned death/zombie]?"

"Precisely." You Qiaolin nodded.

"Wait, isn't qishi the same as zha-shi?" I had always assumed the two terms meant the same thing; I never realized they were different.

"No." You Qiaolin confirmed, rising from his seat and walking toward me. "A zha-shi is neither qishi nor true resurrection; it's a form of pseudo-revival—more accurately, a conditioned reflex of vital signs. In this regard, it is fundamentally different from the almost mythical qishi."

"Is that so?" When it came to the nuances of corpses, I was certainly a novice compared to You Qiaolin.

He reached me and suddenly asked, "Do you know how many criteria there are for defining death?"

"Of course, I know that. There are four: cessation of respiration, the heart stopping for more than ten minutes, brain death, and nerve death." As a diligent police officer, I was equipped with this basic knowledge.

"Definitive death requires all four to occur simultaneously. If Ouyang Min's situation mirrors Wang Dong and Tao Jiahao precisely, then all three are cases of brain death. However, brain death doesn't imply the nerves have completely perished. Some animals can run quite a distance after their heads are severed; their movement is governed by the nervous system. Human corpses are the same: when subjected to a certain stimulus, the body can exhibit a conditioned reflex, causing it to move and walk."

You Qiaolin's explanation was meticulous, and I was completely absorbed in his professional description. "The preliminary autopsy for the three deceased in this case indicated that the cause of death was the hollowing out of their brains. I hadn't yet conducted further tests to determine if their neural systems were entirely defunct. However, besides neurological causes, there is another scenario that can trigger zha-shi."

"You're kidding? There’s another way?" I hadn't expected the topic of zha-shi to have so many layers.

"The world is full of strange things." You Qiaolin met my gaze, smiling lightly, his expression deeply suggestive. "In ancient times, people believed that a breath remained in the chest immediately after death. If a cat or a rat crossed over the body, it might cause a false revival—what we call zha-shi. Although this single breath couldn't sustain life, it could make the revived corpse walk until that last bit of air escaped for whatever reason, leading to permanent death."

You Qiaolin’s voice was magnetic, and I could almost picture scenes of zha-shi from horror films.

He continued, "That, of course, is an ancient legend. Modern science posits that after death, the body’s electrical field, or bio-field, dissipates. However, surrounding small animals like cats and dogs can become charged with ions, which might interact with the dead body, subsequently triggering certain life sign responses in the deceased. This could result in what people call zha-shi—the situation where a person confirmed dead suddenly appears to revive." You Qiaolin shared this theory about ionized particles with me.

"So, if I brought a cat next to a deceased body, could the interaction of ions cause the deceased to exhibit zha-shi?" Naturally, this was just a hypothetical question; attempting it in reality would likely result in me being scared to death or beaten by the deceased's relatives.

"Heh, the probability of zha-shi is actually very low; even if you did that, success wouldn't be guaranteed. As for those three victims, their zha-shi phenomenon occurred after nearly identical times of death, and all were subsequently consumed by internal combustion without exception. This is definitely not ordinary zha-shi. Such a high degree of coincidence is virtually impossible in common cases of corpse animation," You Qiaolin stated with absolute certainty. Yet, he immediately shifted his tone. "The reason I answered 'yes' earlier was because the sheer alignment of events suggests human intervention outweighs coincidence. However, the precise mechanism requires your own investigation; I fear I can only assist you this far."

"Regardless, thank you. This has certainly broadened my horizons," I said to You Qiaolin with a smile, though my heart remained far from cheerful. Zha-shi is inherently accidental, but the three instances in this case were so coincidental they practically negated the possibility of chance.

"Don't mention it. Ultimately, we are colleagues. I handled the autopsies for these victims as well. Solving the case falls to you, but I hope I have offered some assistance," You Qiaolin told me with profound sincerity.

Strangely enough, if anyone else had said those words, I would have dismissed them as mere pleasantries. But coming from You Qiaolin, who rarely spoke much, I felt a genuine thread of sincerity.

"Thanks. Let me buy you a drink once we crack the case," I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"No need for that; I don't drink. But if the case is solved, we must celebrate. How about you come over for dinner? I'll cook a few special dishes myself," You Qiaolin smiled, habitually pushing up his faint, gold-rimmed glasses, as if there were a switch there that, once pressed, would silence his voice.

"I didn't realize you cooked?" I truly hadn't expected a man like him to cook.

"Just got used to it as a child," You Qiaolin dismissed it with a simple sentence, his face carrying a humble smile.

"I find it hard to imagine—I wonder if the feeling of holding a knife to cut meat is the same as holding a scalpel to dissect a corpse?" I joked, though I genuinely found the thought bizarre. Most forensic pathologists avoid using knives in the kitchen after work, let alone preparing meat.

I wondered if the food prepared by a medical examiner would carry a trace of shiqi [deathly aura]? That was something worth verifying someday.

"Well... they are a bit different." Hearing my comment, You Qiaolin's smile stiffened slightly; it seemed his dissection knife was capable of cutting short jokes as well.

I wisely steered the conversation: "Let's talk about that after this case is closed. I have other things to attend to, so I'll be off now. Let's chat again when we have time!"

You Qiaolin made no move to detain me, merely offering a polite smile and nod as he watched me turn and leave his private office.

Today's conversation with You Qiaolin had undoubtedly solved a persistent puzzle for me, lending further credence to the conviction that this was a murder case rather than a matter of supernatural forces. Since zha-shi could be explained scientifically, the notion of ghosts and gods could be dismissed, leaving nothing to fear in that regard. However, the extreme coincidence surrounding the three instances of zha-shi, defying all norms, coupled with their subsequent self-immolation, warranted deeper scrutiny. The killer must have employed some method to achieve this outcome, fulfilling a desired objective that was currently lurking in the shadows, observing me.

Mulling over these thoughts, I walked down the hallway. Instead of heading back to the office, I found myself arriving at the morgue!

The area was enclosed, yet I felt a cold gust of wind sweep across my back and neck, raising the hairs on my body as I became acutely aware of my surroundings.

"Damn it, why did I wander here?" I turned to leave, but in that split second of turning, I caught sight of something amiss. I snapped my head back and examined the area closely—yes, the lock on the heavy door was open.

As I observed the lock, my acute hearing picked up a strange sound.

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

The sound was dull and mechanical, carrying the distinct metallic timbre, precisely like someone striking something hard within an enclosed space. I had been to the morgue before; it was quite large. If someone were striking something inside, the sound wouldn't be this muffled. This noise suggested it was coming from a much smaller compartment to achieve such dullness.

Perhaps I should go inside. One voice urged me, but another cautioned: Don't meddle. Yet, curiosity is a potent demon, capable of shattering all reservations. I placed my hand on the doorknob, and an icy chill instantly shot up my palm and permeated my body, making me shiver involuntarily. At that moment, I instinctively entered a defensive posture, preparing for whatever 'thing' might need dealing with inside.

As the door swung open, the view inside widened. Besides a living person dressed entirely in white, there was nothing else. My heart immediately relaxed; after all, in a place like this, only the living would be clothed. I had opened the door trying to avoid making noise; the person facing away from me seemed unaware of my arrival.

"Hello, was that sound you just made?" I asked the person in white, but the moment I spoke, I realized how foolish the question sounded. In broad daylight, if he was the only one here, who else could have made the noise?

However, the person opposite me seemed not to have heard my question, remaining engrossed in their task. I couldn't tell what they were busy with, though they appeared to be checking a refrigerated cabinet—perhaps checking whether it contained a body.

"Hello?" I ventured, asking again, but there was no reply.

Just as I was about to speak again, the person closed the cabinet in front of them, turned, and held up the object in their hand. I expected them to be startled by my sudden appearance, but instead, they merely nodded at me before moving to check the next cabinet. This cabinet was close to me, and I clearly saw a stark naked, blue-faced female corpse lying inside.

His presence here was surprising, but considering his profession, it seemed normal enough. The person in white currently inspecting the bodies was You Qiaolin's deaf-mute assistant. Since he was deaf and mute, he naturally couldn't have heard me calling out.

Lip-reading requires facing one another, and since he was focused on his work, I hesitated to disturb him further. Moreover, he exuded an air of 'keep your distance,' so as a 'stranger,' it was best for me to leave.

I turned to go, not forgetting to gently pull the main door closed behind me. After taking a few steps, I couldn't shake the persistent feeling of being watched, which made me deeply uneasy. As I continued walking, this sensation didn't fade; it intensified.

I stopped at a corner and abruptly spun around. Behind me stretched the long corridor, ending at that unchanging door. But now, the space in front of the door was no longer empty; a figure dressed in white stood there. I knew he was looking at me, though I couldn't make out his features. A flicker of unease sparked within me. I turned and quickened my pace, heading outside.

Even after re-entering the office, a cloud of anxiety still hung over me.

"Brother Lei, where have you been? We've been looking for you for ages," Xiao Cuo greeted me with his usual sly demeanor the moment I walked in.

"What's up?" Although Xiao Cuo's perpetually anxious look grated on me, his heart was refreshingly simple. I rarely gave him a friendly face, but that didn't mean I disliked him.

"It's him; he needed you, but he’s too unwilling to leave his pile of computers," Xiao Cuo shot a look toward Gao Jianning.

I followed his gaze and saw a slender, almost skeletal arm slowly extending from that corner, weakly waving at me. The sight felt uncannily like a hand reaching out of a grave—as if he had all the time in the world.

"You little brat, looking for a beating the second I turn my back, huh?" I chided him while walking toward Gao Jianning, not failing to add, "What about the tracking on Ouyang Min’s phone? Don't tell me you forgot about that."

"That thing! You have no idea. I followed him, but it was destroyed in less than three minutes, vanished without a trace."

Gao Jianning appeared arrogant, showing no sign of failure or disappointment. He must have uncovered other leads but was reluctant to share them easily, clearly planning to leverage the information for a better deal.