Chapter Five: Taboo

“You bunch of useless good-for-nothings! What’s the point of keeping you around? I ask you to find a scrap of useful evidence and you turn up nothing!”

“With the way you all are, what business do you have calling yourselves police? If you ask me, you should just go home and raise pigs! A pack of useless fools! Useless!”

When Lin Ran and Fan Beixiao stepped out, they saw their superior, Wang Changhai, ranting and raving in the living room. No one knew who had provoked him this time. His face was dark as thunder, and the officers around him searching for evidence were so cowed they scarcely dared to breathe, terrified of attracting his ire.

“You two, get down here!”

At that moment, Lin Ran and Fan Beixiao seemed to hear someone calling them. Lin Ran turned to find Wang Changhai fixing his gaze on the pair.

“We’re doomed. Now that he’s got his eye on us, we’re in for it,” Fan Beixiao muttered, his face twisting into a grimace.

“Cut the nonsense! If he hears you, you’re finished!” Lin Ran shot Fan Beixiao a glare.

“Yes, Sir!” Lin Ran hurried downstairs, fully aware of Wang Changhai’s notorious temper and impatience. He jogged the rest of the way to the man’s side. Fan Beixiao, seeing this, had no choice but to follow suit.

“Sir! Reporting!” Lin Ran snapped to attention with a textbook salute, showing the utmost respect.

“You two—how is it you’re still upstairs dawdling instead of helping down here?” Wang Changhai was having none of it and launched into another tirade.

“Reporting, Sir! We were searching for clues!” Lin Ran replied.

“Searching for clues? And what, pray tell, did you find?” Wang Changhai glared at him, clearly demanding a satisfactory answer.

“Only this mask,” Lin Ran said, handing over the mask he’d found in the wall.

“A mask? So tell me, what’s the use of a mask? Are you planning to catalogue the brand of every bath towel the deceased ever used, too?” Wang Changhai was nearly beside himself with exasperation.

Seeing Lin Ran’s impassive face, Wang Changhai grew even more furious, his spittle spraying in his agitation.

Fan Beixiao couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter at that.

“What are you laughing at? Go move the body to the forensic van! Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because your father’s in the military district! If you work under me, you follow my orders, or you can get out!” Wang Changhai roared at Fan Beixiao.

“Yes, Sir!” Fan Beixiao didn’t argue and obediently went to carry the body. Only Lin Ran knew how priceless Fan Beixiao’s expression was at that moment—the stench from the corpses was enough to make anyone lose their lunch.

“Out with it—what important clues did you discover, oh top graduate of the police academy?” Wang Changhai turned back to Lin Ran.

“Reporting, Sir. Based on my preliminary observation, I rule out both suicide and homicide,” Lin Ran replied.

“Evidence! Where’s your evidence?” Wang Changhai bore down on him.

“First, the arrangement and state of the furniture scattered around the room. Second, there are no obvious wounds on the victim’s body. Third, none of the victim’s valuables are missing. Based on these three points, I temporarily rule out homicide. As for suicide, we’ll need to wait for the forensic report to be certain.” Lin Ran’s tone was calm and measured, not loud, but the officers nearby heard him clearly and looked at him with surprise.

“Then tell me, what use is this mask you found?” Wang Changhai’s eyes flickered with surprise—he hadn’t expected Lin Ran’s powers of observation to be so keen.

“Reporting, Sir. At present, I’m not sure. But I have a hunch that this mask is connected to the case,” Lin Ran replied.

“A hunch? You and your hunches! I’m telling you, don’t speak without evidence!” Wang Changhai’s face was cold, yet Lin Ran’s investigative skills were already more advanced than many full officers.

“Yes, Sir!” Lin Ran saluted again.

“All right, you can get lost now. Take the camera and go take some photos!” Wang Changhai ordered impatiently.

“Yes, Sir!” Lin Ran paused, then turned to find Fan Beixiao and get the camera. He’d expected Wang Changhai to assign him a miserable task as well, but was surprised to be sent to take photographs instead.

Watching Lin Ran’s retreating figure, Wang Changhai’s lips curled into a faint, nearly imperceptible smile and his anger seemed to subside. He found himself unexpectedly pleased with the new intern. If Lin Ran had known, he might have thought the gruff old man harbored some strange fondness for him.

“Just look at yourselves! Not half as observant as the new kid!” Wang Changhai scolded, though there was no real anger in his voice.

The officers collecting evidence nearby didn’t dare say a word and threw themselves into their work with redoubled vigor. Some even broke into a jog as Lin Ran had, Wang Changhai’s words having shamed them so thoroughly they wished they could disappear.

Just then, the chandelier above Wang Changhai’s head began to sway precariously, as though unable to bear its own weight. Standing beneath it, Wang Changhai remained oblivious. Lin Ran, returning with the camera, caught sight of the scene.

“Watch out!” Lin Ran shouted, lunging at Wang Changhai and tackling him to the side. At that instant, the chandelier crashed down right where Wang Changhai had been standing. Had it struck a person, survival would have been unthinkable.

Wang Changhai stared, stunned, at the shattered chandelier on the floor. The sudden turn of events left him dazed for a long moment. Only after some time did he come to his senses; had Lin Ran not acted so quickly, he would have been reporting to the King of Hell by now.

“Are you all right, Sir?” Lin Ran asked the shaken Wang Changhai.

“I’m fine. If it weren’t for your sharp eyes, kid, this old life of mine would have been lost in the line of duty!” Wang Changhai wiped the cold sweat from his brow, still visibly shaken.

“How odd. Why would a perfectly good chandelier suddenly fall? This place looks newly renovated,” Lin Ran mused, eyeing the shards on the floor.

“Never mind, must be shoddy workmanship! Get back to work, all of you! And be careful!” Wang Changhai got to his feet, dusted himself off, and addressed the stunned officers.

The forensics team, seeing Wang Changhai unharmed, breathed sighs of relief and returned to their tasks.

“Ran!” Fan Beixiao, having helped the coroner with the body, hurried over.

“All finished?” Lin Ran eyed Fan Beixiao’s uniform—it was immaculately clean, without the slightest trace of odor. He suspected Fan Beixiao might have shirked his duty.

“Yeah, all done! Hey, Ran, come here a moment!” Fan Beixiao, looking mysterious, pulled Lin Ran aside.

“What is it?” Lin Ran noted his secretive manner, guessing Fan Beixiao had discovered something.

“Ran, do you know why that chandelier fell just now?” Fan Beixiao whispered.

“Why?” Lin Ran asked, puzzled.

Instead of answering, Fan Beixiao took out a pen and wrote a letter on his palm.

“I’m telling you, in places thick with yin energy, this word is taboo! Say it too often and you’ll attract retribution!” Fan Beixiao pointed at the character on his palm.

“G…” Lin Ran glanced at the letter, confusion plain on his face. The moment he uttered the sound, Fan Beixiao clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Whatever you do, don’t say that word again!” Fan Beixiao, visibly rattled, acted as if he himself had narrowly escaped disaster.

Lin Ran stared at him, his mind flashing back to the earlier incident. He remembered hearing his mother talk about such things when he was a child, but he’d always thought it was just a story to frighten kids—not something to be believed.