The current forensic examiner is a middle-aged man named Lin Shuqing, fair-skinned and slightly plump, giving him a younger appearance than his actual age. He didn't wear glasses, which was the only thing that gave me a measure of comfort, as I’m currently somewhat afraid of people who wear glasses; their bright lenses flash and distort my vision, preventing me from seeing the eyes behind them clearly.

You Qiaolin’s former private office had been abandoned and converted into a supply room. Lin Shuqing’s office was very plain: just a desk, a few chairs, and a glass cabinet against the wall.

“Forensic Doctor Lin, did the autopsy report for the Wangli Alley case come back yesterday?”

“It did. The bloodstain on the wall is a composite mixture, formed by the victim’s entire body being crushed into powder and then mixed with the blood.”

Lin Shuqing’s words confirmed my prior conjecture, so I pressed further, “A person’s bones are very hard, especially the skull. How could the murderer achieve that?”

Lin Shuqing paused, a hint of stiffness crossing his chubby face, before saying, “Indeed, the hardness of a skull is comparable to a copper plate. However, in this case, the bones were pulverized, so we can only detect the presence of bone matter; determining whether the skull itself was among the fragments is very difficult.”

A strange chill shot through me, but I dared not delve deeper into the implication. I returned to my original line of questioning: “How can bones be pulverized into such fine powder?”

“There are many ways,” Lin Shuqing replied, surprising me slightly, but his thick lips betrayed none of my astonishment as he continued, “For instance, a common metal grinding machine could reduce human bone to fine dust. There are many similar tools.”

“Are you suggesting the murderer put the victim into a grinder? Could it really crush bones that finely?”

My tone carried distinct skepticism, yet Lin Shuqing showed no annoyance. He maintained his steady tone and continued, “That’s correct. Actually, the bone fragments at the scene aren't as fine as you imagine; it’s the surrounding blood that makes them appear to be fine powder. In reality, they are not.”

At this point, a rough outline formed in my mind. If the murderer truly was human, they would require a machine capable of grinding a corpse, meaning the room at Wangli Alley No. 703 was not the primary crime scene. However, we couldn't entirely rule out the involvement of the ‘Death God,’ because if such a thing truly existed, it could easily chew human bones into tiny fragments.

Naturally, I hoped the ‘Death God’ wouldn't be involved. Yet, the experience related by the Fat Old Demon forced me to harbor some doubt. In his era, mechanized tools were nowhere near as advanced as they are now. Furthermore, in a small town like that, machines capable of grinding human bone were exceedingly rare. Therefore, after the incident, such instruments should have been among the first things investigated.

Given the high level of attention from senior leadership, the lack of results in that investigation pointed to only two possibilities: first, that all the investigating officers possessed the same professional ethics as the Fat Old Demon, or second, that no one had actually done this. To my knowledge, the veteran officers from the early days of the Liberation possessed extremely sharp investigative skills, far superior to those current guys in the Criminal Investigation Brigade who rely on high technology. Therefore, the only logical conclusion was that no one had used a grinder on the body. This conclusion led to another potential outcome: the ‘Death God’ genuinely exists.

“Are there any other methods that could achieve this?” I pursued, hoping to clear the confusion lingering in my heart.

Lin Shuqing considered for a moment, then said, “Only things like crushers can reduce bone to powder. But there is another possibility: if the victim suffered from osteoporosis, the tool wouldn't need to be complicated—a large sledgehammer would suffice.”

A large sledgehammer. A dark silhouette swinging a massive hammer on some night flashed through my mind. If that were the case, the situation might take a positive turn. Assuming the carpenter from forty years ago was an osteoporosis patient, the killer might have only intended to break his bones with the hammer, only to find that one blow turned the bone to dust. Thus, blow by blow, he smashed all the bones. And the current case of Ji Chenglin? There was no ‘Death God’ involved.

I glanced at Xiao Cuo, wondering if I should smash that disc he carried—he was purely a charlatan, having kept me in suspense for days.

Just then, Lin Shuqing added, “However, the victim showed no symptoms of osteoporosis; we have already checked. He was perfectly normal.”

My heart sank back into the abyss. Could it really have been the work of the ‘Death God’?

In any case, this trip to the forensic office was fruitful. At least I knew a corpse could be pulverized by a grinder, which provided a tangible lead. Until a definitive result is found, this path cannot be abandoned. Moreover, deep down, I preferred this lead to be true; the ‘Death God’ was something I could neither accept nor bear.

So, Xiao Cuo and I split up, each pursuing a different line of inquiry. I didn't really want Xiao Cuo to fight alone, but Zhang Jiewei volunteered to stand on the same front line with him, leaving me no room to object. Still, I couldn't fathom why an atheist like Zhang Jiewei would suddenly and firmly support Xiao Cuo’s ghostly theories.

Over the next few days, I went around investigating grinders. Generally, grinders are used for stone processing, where large blocks of rock are fed in, ground into powder, and then chemically reformed. When I first witnessed one of these machines turn solid chunks of rock into fine dust, I was almost certain that human bone absolutely could not withstand its grinding action, and the small flame of scientific inquiry within me burned brighter.

There were a few stone processing plants around Anyin City, but not many. I finished my inquiries quickly, with no new findings for the time being. However, investigation isn't a one- or two-day job; many things require time to yield results.

On Sunday, I woke up very early because I was going to visit Xiao Xuan’s parents today. Ever since Xiao Xuan left, I hadn't dared to face Father Lan and Mother Lan, but now I needed to start moving forward, to prove to everyone that Xiao Xuan's love for me was worthwhile.

As soon as I stepped into the familiar housing complex, scenes of past warmth flooded my brain like a frantic tide, making me slightly dizzy. I leaned against a utility pole by the roadside and gritted my teeth, telling myself, “You are a man; you need to stand up!”

Suddenly, a voice called from behind, “Xiao Wang?”

I turned around in surprise and saw Father Lan. He looked much older, and the academic air that once surrounded him had faded significantly, concealed beneath a thick veil of sorrow. Now, he was just an ordinary, heartbroken old man.

I suppressed the grief rising in my chest and called out, “Uncle, I’ve come to see you both.”

Father Lan nodded, then said, “Let’s go. Come inside and sit for a while.”

Upon entering the house, I saw Mother Lan. The sharpness she once possessed was gone, making her almost unrecognizable, yet she recognized me instantly, and two silent tears streamed down her face.

Father Lan said, “Ah, Xiao Wang rarely visits; don't be like this, or how can we expect him to visit again?”

Mother Lan wiped her tears and choked out, “Sit down, please. I’ll make some tea.”

I quickly said, “Please don't bother. I won't drink anything; I just came to keep you company.”

The grief of the two elders could not be dissolved by mere words, so I didn't say much, only bringing up irrelevant topics to distract them. Gradually, their mood became less somber than before.

Then, Mother Lan rose and returned to the inner room. After a moment, she came back out and handed me a notebook, saying, “Xiao Wang, this is Xuanxuan’s diary. You are in it, so take it as a keepsake.”

I hurriedly declined, “No, no, you should keep it.”

“Xuanxuan has been writing a diary since she was little, so many, many entries,” Mother Lan’s eyes welled up again, but she suppressed it. “This is the last one; please accept it.”

I quietly tucked the notebook into my pocket and told the elders, “I will visit often from now on. Think of me as half a son.” Now that Xiao Xuan was gone, I couldn't save her when she was alive. The only thing I could do in death was to treat her parents well. I had already decided that for the rest of my life, I would treat her parents as my own, including their final care and burial.

Mother Lan’s tears finally broke free and poured down, and Father Lan was the same, two streams of aged tears falling involuntarily.

I stayed at the Lan residence the entire day, helping the elders with chores until after dinner before leaving.

Returning home, I showered, then placed the notebook flat on the desk. Placing both hands on it, a wave of profound sadness washed over me.

Finally, I slowly opened the notebook. The delicate, familiar handwriting immediately caught my eye, almost making me lose control of my emotions.

I slowly continued reading, absorbing every word with concentration. This diary began before Xiao Xuan joined the Special Affairs Office. Initially, it recorded her experiences at her former unit, and later, it detailed her first day at the office. The vibrant script instantly pierced time and space, pulling me back to that day.

“When I first saw Wang Lei, I was almost stunned because he looked so much like Senior Brother. At that moment, I even thought Senior Brother had returned. But I knew in my heart that he could never come back; he was gone, forever separated from me.”

Senior Brother. So that was it. No wonder Xiao Xuan always called me Senior Brother, and the way she said it always felt strange—there really was such a person.

For some reason, I didn't feel any aversion toward this Senior Brother, nor the hostility one might expect from a love rival, like I felt toward Zhang Jiewei. Was it because he had ‘departed forever’?

“Wang Lei is such a lecherous fellow. From the moment he first looked at me, I knew he meant no good.”

Reading this, sweat broke out on my forehead. To think I appeared so utterly despicable in Xiao Xuan’s eyes, while at the time, I felt quite pleased with myself, believing I could charm countless young women.

At this moment, I was completely immersed in the past, utterly forgetting the cruel present. I continued reading with keen interest:

“Slowly, I’m beginning to think Wang Lei is actually a kind-hearted person. He cares about others and never intends to harm anyone, always afraid of hurting the innocent. Although he has inappropriate thoughts about me, that’s only natural human instinct. And now, I’m starting to think he’s not so detestable after all. Could it be that I’m starting to like him???”

Three question marks revealed the girl’s inner turmoil. I imagined Xiao Xuan must have been quite conflicted then: on one hand, I looked like ‘Senior Brother’; on the other, this fellow was a bit lecherous; but on the third hand, this fellow was somewhat likable. It seemed my charm factor was quite high after all.

I flipped further. Time moved backward, but there was no sign of danger yet.

“Today is Wednesday. Several murders have occurred in the city consecutively; it’s truly distressing. Why do people in this world become murderers? I really can’t understand why these monsters can bring themselves to attack their own kind, especially beautiful, young women. They are truly heinous wretches! If I caught them, I would surely punish them severely!”

I checked the date. This was the Ou Jinglan serial murder case. I closed the notebook for a moment, shut my eyes, and stayed still. Only after my emotions settled did I open it again.

“Senior Brother has a delusion disorder. I was genuinely shocked when I learned this, but I don’t believe Zhang Jiewei. Senior Brother is clearly normal. Why would he say that? I wonder if it's because he already knows I like Senior Brother?”

Tears slowly welled up in my eyes. Flipping a few more pages, my gaze fell upon a line: “In a bad mood today; I feel like something is about to happen, but I don’t know what. Not good, not good…”

I quickly checked the date and tried to recall: was this around the time You Qiaolin faked an attack at the forensic office, and we encountered a white ‘monster’ outside—who later turned out to be a psychiatric patient? Was this what she meant?

The days drew closer, and my tension grew, but my hands turned like a wind-up clock, mechanically turning page after page.

“Huang Yang is such a pitiful woman. She gave up her status to fall in love with a modeling agency boss, but this man doesn't love her. To knowingly tell her about something so dangerous—isn't that just dragging her into it too? Senior Brother would never do that. He always shielded me, ensuring I faced no danger.”

This was the last page, written on the day before Xiao Xuan disappeared. For some reason, she had written a great deal that day. Could it be that she already had a premonition?

I continued reading:

“Lately, I always feel like someone is watching me from behind, but when I turn around, there’s nothing there. It’s so strange. Why do I have this weird feeling? Why never before?”

From this passage, it was clear that Xiao Xuan’s disappearance was not accidental. Someone had been tracking her for many days, but their methods were so skillful that they left no trace. However, Xiao Xuan herself was an excellent detective. If she missed being followed once or twice, it would be normal; finding a tracker among a crowd is certainly not easy, especially if the pursuer keeps their distance, merely observing from afar—that would be even harder to detect. But she wrote in her diary that she had felt watched recently yet failed to discover anyone. That was abnormal.

Finally, a string of handwriting appeared: “But I was very happy today because Senior Brother got jealous. I only casually praised Zhang Jiewei a few times, and he got furious. Though he didn’t show it overtly, I knew he was boiling inside. Hehe, it used to be that I liked him more; now, this lady is going to use a little tactic to make him submit under my charm, hehe.”

Xiao Xuan’s expression and manner instantly reappeared. I could vaguely see her beautiful face, vividly present before me. I reached out to touch it, but it dissolved into smoke, spreading out in ripples. Tears finally slipped down, dripping onto the diary.

I quietly closed the notebook and rested my tired eyes, hoping to meet Xiao Xuan again in my dreams. But sleep wouldn't come. So, I opened the notebook again, re-reading it carefully, as if this action allowed me to communicate with Xiao Xuan, who was in another world.

Unconsciously, I drifted off to sleep holding the notebook. Indeed, I saw Xiao Xuan in my dream. She was as heroic and dashing as ever; her perfectly fitted uniform looked like the finest couture on her body. She gave me a faint smile, her lips lightly parted, yet silent.

I rushed toward her, but I could never get close. She circled around me. I tried desperately to draw nearer, to hold her soft, small hand once more, but I couldn’t manage it. I shouted loudly. Xiao Xuan heard my voice and suddenly began to cry, saying to me, “Senior Brother, please save me! I don’t want to stay here; it’s so dark, so cold here.”

My heart shattered instantly, countless cracks causing me unbearable pain. I swung my fists, frantically beating against the invisible barrier, but it had no effect. And Xiao Xuan’s image began to fade, while her desolate voice grew louder and louder.

Xiao Xuan struggled desperately toward me. Suddenly, I saw a shocking red line appear on her neck. I gasped in horror, “Xiao Xuan, don’t come over, don’t come over!” But Xiao Xuan couldn't hear me. She kept clawing at the ground with her fingers, her nails breaking off, while the red line on her neck deepened until a distinct dividing line showed.

Finally, amid my screams, Xiao Xuan’s neck snapped. Her swan-like neck broke apart, and her beautiful head rolled down, actually rolling right up to me. I grabbed the severed head, unable to make a sound. Only blood-red tears dripped from my eyes, falling little by little onto Xiao Xuan’s head.

Xiao Xuan opened her bloody eyes, looked at me, and whispered weakly, “Senior Brother, I finally found you.” Then she offered a tragic smile and closed her eyes.

“No!!!”

I finally tore myself free from the nightmare, sitting up in bed covered in sweat, looking around frantically, as if Xiao Xuan’s head were still in the room.

Xiao Xuan’s story was not over; she wanted me to find her head!