The 80s Female Detective's Guide to Self-Preservation [Criminal Investigation] - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Xia Qiuyuan and her grandmother barely managed to catch the only daytime bus heading back to the county seat. Originally, Xia Qiuyuan had planned to drive back for the funeral, but she had been tied down by a particularly heinous body-dumping case. After a week of consecutive overtime without even time to go home, she certainly didn’t have the energy left to drive her grandmother across the province.

The elder who had passed away was her grand-aunt.

Staring out at the rice fields swaying with green tassels in the wind, Xia Qiuyuan felt a sense of familiarity. Before the age of seven, she had lived with her grandmother in the countryside below the county level. Back in kindergarten, she played like a little wild child every day, always covered in dirt, until her mother—unable to stand the sight anymore—hauled her back to the city for school.

Her grandmother, a retired police officer, was brought along as well. Since then, Qiuyuan had never returned.

The mountain roads were rugged and winding. After countless turns, they finally reached the terminus. As soon as she stepped off the bus, the scent of rice mixed with various earthy aromas rushed toward her. For Xia Qiuyuan, whose sense of smell was far more acute than the average person’s, this was a form of torture.

“Let’s go. Your grand-aunt is waiting for us.”

Xia Qiuyuan picked up the luggage and nodded.

After just a few steps, she noticed a “sparrow-cat” appearing by the roadside. This was a local breed—smart, beautiful, and common in the villages. They weren’t raised as delicately as city pets; they were given a small corner to sleep in, some food when hungry, and otherwise left to roam free.

Xia Qiuyuan liked cats, but her work was too busy for her to be a responsible owner, so she had sensibly chosen to admire them from afar.

“Mimi?” Xia Qiuyuan called out softly to the cat following them.

The cat, with its brownish-black patterns, widened its eyes and let out a soft, responsive “meow.” Her grandmother was already striding briskly toward the house, so Qiuyuan hurried to catch up, glancing back every few steps to find the cat still trailing behind her.

The grand-aunt was not her grandmother’s biological sister.

The entire Xia family lineage had started in business. According to the genealogy records, they were originally a wealthy family from Jiangnan who had offended a Qing Dynasty emperor and been exiled to Lingnan. The journey was fraught with disaster, and many died along the way. By the time they reached Lingnan, their numbers had dwindled by a third.

Fortunately, the Xia family remained a large clan. Upon settling, the matriarch took charge, shifting the family’s power structure from male-centered to female-centered. Under the leadership of these women, the once-abandoned village flourished into a harmonious utopia.

The “grand-aunt” was from a collateral branch—a poor, helpless soul who had sought refuge under the Xia family umbrella during chaotic times. Thus, Xia Qiuyuan shared no blood relation with her, only a familial bond.

Most people left in the village were the elderly. They maintained the old Xia traditions: wearing a red flower and a half-comb in their hair to signify their choice to remain unmarried. They were dressed cleanly, their expressions somber.

A funeral was grueling work. Although burial was no longer the custom, they still had to trek through the mountains to appease the mountain spirits and the land, returning the grand-aunt’s soul to the earth.

When it was all over, Xia Qiuyuan was so exhausted she could barely lift her arms. She sat in a rattan chair with her eyes closed. Just as her breathing grew shallow, she felt a gentle nudge. Opening her eyes, she saw an elder presenting a wooden box.

“Your grand-aunt left this for you. Along with the courtyard house out back, it is all yours.”

Xia Qiuyuan let out a small “Ah?” of confusion. She had barely any connection to this grand-aunt. Despite her bewilderment, she obediently took the box. By the time she finished inspecting the dark wooden chest, which smelled of aged agarwood, the elder was gone.

Catching sight of the sparrow-cat sitting nearby, flicking its tail, Xia Qiuyuan’s mood—heavy from a long day—finally lifted. What a cute cat.

Since there was still a night vigil to keep, Xia Qiuyuan sat in the empty funeral hall and opened the unlocked wooden box. Inside were several thick notebooks, some keys, and letters. No money or valuables.

She flipped through a book to pass the time, but the more she read, the straighter she sat.

The instinct of a veteran criminal detective allowed her to perceive a series of eerie points within her grand-aunt’s diaries. First was the death of the grand-aunt’s elder sister.

It was normal for a detective to offend people. In the 1980s, the division of responsibilities wasn’t as clear as in later years; any case threatening social order ended up on their desks. Retaliation was a risk every detective understood from their training days.

However, the sister—a rising star of a female detective—had supposedly hung herself in a deserted factory, leaving a suicide note begging for forgiveness for her “sins.” This didn’t match the description of the woman in the diaries at all.

“—Possessed an acute sense of smell and a natural talent for offending everyone with her sharp tongue. She had both arrogance and brilliance. Though I disliked her, I must admit my sister possessed an indescribable vitality for that era.”

“—It seemed that as long as a case reached her hands, you could trust her unconditionally. Because it was her, it was possible.”

“…”

Xia Qiuyuan’s fingers brushed over the mottled paper. She felt curious about this girl who shared her name. A non-blood relative who, amazingly, also possessed a naturally hyper-sensitive sense of smell.

Incredible.

Further in, the diary entries were interrupted. Some pages were missing—either lost due to the binding failing or simply never written. Near the end of the records, Qiuyuan saw a new name: “Qin Yu.”

“—Qin Yu said she found the truth behind Sister’s death, but told me to be patient and wait for an explanation. I said okay, I trust you.”

“—Ten days, half a month, a month. There has been no news from Qin Yu. Today I asked someone to go to the city to check on her. They said she is no longer at the Academy of Agricultural Sciences. I am worried she has met with an accident, just like Sister.”

“—Qin Yu is dead. Summer Solstice, 1987.”

“…”

Xia Qiuyuan frowned. She flipped back to the pages describing the sister’s death. The more she looked, the more it seemed like a cold case born of the complexities of the era. It was illogical at every turn.

“This isn’t an old woman’s memoir; it’s a ‘Death Note’.”

The archived files should still be at the county police station. Her “occupational disease” flared up; she wanted nothing more than to apply for a transfer order tonight and see if she could solve this mystery while she had some time.

Yawning, Xia Qiuyuan placed the diary back in the box. She turned her head and saw the sparrow-cat crouching obediently by the door.

“Mimi.” She beckoned the cat. Before she could say another word, a needle-like pain stabbed the back of her head. The white candles on the altar flickered wildly.

There was no wind, indoors or out.

Yet Xia Qiuyuan felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She toppled from the rattan chair onto the floor. Her final thought before losing consciousness—I haven’t solved this case yet!