Silent Testimony - Chapter 99

The autopsy was completed near 11:00 PM. Just as Shen Ning’s forensic notes had suggested, Chu Xiaoyi had died of mechanical asphyxiation (strangulation). After a discussion between Director Liu and Captains Jiang and Peng, they made a swift decision to call an immediate meeting with Qiu Wan, Li Hewei, and two other squadron leaders.

In the Major Crimes Unit meeting room, Director Liu summarized the information: Chu Xiaoyi, female, Chief Reporter for the Puchen Evening News, died on March 8, 2010. The traffic department ruled it a fatal car accident. On March 10, 2010, her daughter, Shen Ning, re-examined the body, found anomalies, and reported them to the police, but received no response.

On August 13, 2010, the court delivered its verdict. In accordance with Article 133 of the Criminal Law, the perpetrator, a man surnamed Wang, was found to have violated traffic management regulations resulting in death and was sentenced to two years in prison.

Subsequent civil compensation, including funeral expenses and death benefits, totaled over 460,000 yuan. Her daughter, Shen Ning, refused the payment, so her son, Shen Hao, signed for it.

On January 12, 2011, the court relocated, and part of the archives from 2009–2010 were lost—Chu Xiaoyi’s file among them.

On July 19, 2013, a fire broke out in the traffic police archives, and Chu Xiaoyi’s records were incinerated.

On February 11, 2016, at 9:27 PM, Chu Xiaoyi’s body was discovered in the Licheng Community. Following an autopsy by forensic doctor Tao Ling, it was confirmed that the cause of death was not a car accident.

“The seven of us here need to analyze this. Let’s talk about our views on the case. Old Jiang, you first.”

Captain Jiang took two sips of strong tea and spoke with practiced diplomacy. “Well, I’m just here to assist. You all should take the lead.”

Director Liu gave a faint smile. “Old Jiang, you were still in Puchen six years ago. When Shen Ning reported the crime, did you have no impression of it?”

Captain Jiang’s smile froze. His fingers tightened around his teacup, and his eyes flickered toward Director Liu. “The traffic department had already certified it as a closed case. If I had gone to overturn it, wouldn’t that have been a slap in their face? Besides, some cases are handled by the brothers downstairs; how could I remember them all?”

It was a textbook example of bureaucratic negligence.

Records of reported crimes that are not formally filed for investigation are only kept for six months, so it was impossible to know who exactly had followed up back then. Based on the receipt provided by Shen Ning, Qiu Wan contacted the colleague who had taken the initial report. The colleague stated that all cases are reported upward in a timely manner; a lack of news simply meant “insufficient evidence.”

Captain Peng tapped the tip of her pen on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ll say a few words.”

Director Liu nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Director Zhang’s stance is to investigate thoroughly,” Peng said, referring to the Provincial Department Commissioner and Director of the Shujiang Municipal Public Security Bureau. “However, six years have passed since the incident. There are no files, and the evidence has been buried or destroyed. We must be prepared for the possibility that our efforts will be in vain.”

“Understood.”

Director Liu moved the mouse, displaying a social network centered on Chu Xiaoyi. “First, where is the driver, Wang? He is the key figure. What about the forensic doctor who performed the initial autopsy? Was he paid off? And what about the victim’s colleagues? Didn’t Shen Ning say Chu Xiaoyi was conducting an undercover investigation at the time?”

“What was she investigating? Could it be related to her death?”

Qiu Wan interjected, “Director Liu, the driver, Wang, died three years ago of an acute myocardial infarction.”

Director Liu crossed his hands under his chin, his expression grave. “He was only 36. He died right after getting out of prison?”

“Yes,” Qiu Wan confirmed.

“This is going to be difficult…”

Li Hewei calmly analyzed the details and clues, looking for the root of the issue. “Captain Qiu, what about the officer from the traffic department who handled the case?”

“Deputy Captain He Tian. He retired two years ago and now lives in North City with his daughter. We’ve requested him to return to assist the investigation; he’s on a flight tomorrow morning.” As the Captain of the Major Crimes Squadron, Qiu Wan noted every detail, linking the clues together. She continued, “As for the forensic doctor, he resigned from the Judicial Identification Center five years ago. We are currently trying to establish contact.”

“Good.” The discussion continued. Director Liu summarized the points, and Captain Peng noted that the Provincial Department was debating the case’s classification. If it were ruled a major criminal case, they would need more evidence.

The meeting ended around midnight. Li Hewei and Tao Ling walked home, while Qiu Wan took a taxi to the hospital.

In the inpatient ward of the Hepatobiliary Surgery department, Qiu Wan pushed the door open softly. Hearing the movement, Shang Lan—who was by the bed—stood up and gestured for them to talk in the stairwell. Qiu Wan followed her mother in silence.

“Xiao Qiu is asleep,” Shang Lan said gently.

“Mm.” Qiu Wan bit her lip and whispered, “Thank you.”

Shang Lan smiled, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes becoming visible. “Xiao Qiu has a good personality. You have good taste.”

Qiu Wan had been looking down, feeling somewhat awkward, but she snapped her head up when she heard her mother mention Cheng Yingqiu in a tone that clearly acknowledged their relationship. In the dim light of the stairwell, they stood half a meter apart. It was a rare moment where Qiu Wan looked directly at Shang Lan in a calm state. She recalled the time after her high school entrance exams when she had a fever and called her mother in tears, only to be told she was busy with surgery. For a long time, Qiu Wan couldn’t find a single word to say.

It was the elder who broke the silence.

“I’ve reviewed all her test reports. She definitely needs surgery.”

“Mm,” Qiu Wan agreed. “Let’s do it.”

“The deputy director at the People’s Hospital suggested a cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal). However, considering the risk of chronic diarrhea or other complications, I’m planning to perform gallbladder-preserving stone removal.” Shang Lan pulled out her phone and swiped through Cheng Yingqiu’s report. “Xiao Qiu’s gallbladder contraction function isn’t bad; she meets the criteria for preservation.”

Qiu Wan scanned the report. She couldn’t understand the dense professional jargon, but she trusted Shang Lan’s skill. She nodded. “Alright. Is she transferring tomorrow?”

“Yes. She’ll transfer to the Second Affiliated Hospital tomorrow for anti-inflammatory treatment. If things look good, I’ll add her to the surgery schedule on the eighth day of the New Year.” Shang Lan’s post-holiday schedule was already packed through the fifteenth; she would have to squeeze the surgery in.

“Mm. I’ll have to trouble you to arrange it. I can’t leave work.”

The conversation was stiff and polite, but the ice was finally breaking. Shang Lan smiled. “If you can’t be here, don’t you still have me? Xiao Qiu and I added each other on WeChat when you were hospitalized with a fracture last year. We don’t talk much, but she always sends greetings during the holidays.”

“Xiao Qiu probably knows about the friction between us, and she handles the boundaries very well. Don’t blame her.” Shang Lan had arrived at the hospital near 9:00 PM to take over for Tao Ling. She had happened to see Cheng Yingqiu’s chat with Qiu Wan—the girl had accidentally sent a screenshot of Shang Lan’s caring message to Qiu Wan while trying to show off to Li Hewei. Though she retracted it immediately, Qiu Wan had likely seen it.

Qiu Wan understood the implication—that Cheng Yingqiu was caught in the middle. Her brow relaxed slightly. She was about to respond when Shang Lan spoke first. “It’s late. You should go back; you have work tomorrow.”

“I want to stay with her.” Despite their brief ten minutes together at noon, Qiu Wan knew Cheng Yingqiu was longing to see her, even if only for a short while.

“Xiao Qiu won’t allow it. She booked a room near the hospital and told me to go rest.” Shang Lan emphasized, “Investigating is mental labor. You’ve had insufficient sleep for three days straight; it will only affect your work. Haste makes waste.”

Qiu Wan considered it for a long time. She didn’t agree or refuse; she simply said, “I’ll go see her.”

Shang Lan sighed, knowing her daughter’s stubborn streak. After a few more instructions, she left first.

When Qiu Wan returned to the room, she walked to the bedside and reached out to adjust the blanket over Cheng Yingqiu’s shoulder. The girl suddenly opened her eyes.

“Is Auntie gone?”

“You were faking sleep?” Qiu Wan’s hand was caught by the girl, and she sat down.

Cheng Yingqiu’s abdomen was still throbbing with pain, but it was within a bearable range. She forced a smile. “Yeah. Auntie wouldn’t leave, so I had to pretend.”

“She just left.” Qiu Wan gently smoothed the furrow between the girl’s brows. She cut off whatever the girl was about to say. “I know what you’re planning.”

Cheng Yingqiu blinked. “Is it not allowed? I asked the doctor; I don’t need a 24-hour caregiver.”

“Just a little longer.”

Cheng Yingqiu tilted her head to check the time on her phone. “Ten minutes.”

“Alright. Once the case is solved and you’ve recovered, I’ll teach you how to dance.” Qiu Wan had been in recovery for her arm, and then Cheng Yingqiu had been away on business; they hadn’t found the chance until now.

As always, Cheng Yingqiu provided plenty of emotional support. “Yay! What are we dancing?”

“Anything. What do you want to learn?”

Cheng Yingqiu whispered shyly, “Can we do Trouble Maker? I want to do a duo dance with you.”

The provocative choreography of Trouble Maker flashed through Qiu Wan’s mind. She met the request with silence.

Cheng Yingqiu bit her lip. “Please? Consider the fact that I’m sick and need surgery.”

Hearing the girl’s obvious pouting tone, Qiu Wan didn’t have the heart to refuse. She reminded her softly, “Keep your voice down. Don’t wake up the girl in the next bed.”

“What does that mean? You promised!”

The smile in Qiu Wan’s eyes could no longer be hidden. “What else could I do?”

Cheng Yingqiu gazed at the woman under the dim bedside lamp. A restless itch spread through her heart, and she revealed her deepest thoughts without hesitation. “Can you come closer? I want to tell you a secret.”

“Mm?” Qiu Wan leaned in as requested. Cheng Yingqiu tilted her head up and pecked her on the cheek, her smile as bright as peach blossoms in March. “Goodnight.”