The Mystery of the Inner Demon

Chapter 128 Wild Rose

Wu Chun stared blankly at the pendant in Zhong Kui's hand, lost in deep memories. His index finger unconsciously traced the arc of the steering wheel on the interrogation table, and Zhong Kui's silver pendant reflected tiny specks of light in his pupils: "When Mr. Huang enlarged the photo, the phone screen reflected on the car window..." His Adam's apple suddenly froze for two seconds, "Just like the angle of reflection of this pendant now." "Mr. Huang and I were both in a good mood that day. He even chatted with me for a few minutes, saying that he had booked a sea view room in Greece and even jokingly asked if I wanted to bring a beautiful woman with him. I was embarrassed and said I planned to go back to my hometown to see my wife and children in the next few days. Hmm..."

At this point, Wu Chun frowned slightly, "Ding..." He simulated the sound of a phone message, "Ding..."

His trance-like look, as if he was possessed, was recorded by the surveillance cameras in the interrogation room.

Wu Chun muttered to himself, his hands hovering in mid-air as if gripping an invisible steering wheel. "Our conversation was interrupted by a message from Mr. Huang's phone. He suddenly stopped talking. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his face darken, as if he had received something significant. He zoomed in and read it again. He opened and closed two fingers on the screen seven times."

Wu Chun suddenly raised his hands and mimed zooming. The light in the interrogation room seemed to flicker with his movements. "I caught a glimpse of his pupils in the rearview mirror... bulging like a frog with a poisonous snake biting its throat."

Zhong Kui's silver pendant suddenly stopped spinning, drawing a cold arc in the air. "A physiological compensatory reaction caused by cognitive dissonance. When humans suddenly receive information that subverts their self-perception, their pupils will undergo three cycles of contraction and dilation..."

Wu Chun's index finger suddenly scraped against the interrogation table, creating a sharp, screeching sound. As the reflection of Zhong Kui's pendant slipped from his pupils, it was as if some invisible leash had been pulled away. His back slammed against the plastic backrest, causing the remaining legs to scratch four parallel white marks on the floor. Waking from a dream, he looked at everyone in front of him in panic: "How could I remember so many things? I clearly never paid attention to these details."

Zhong Kui put away the pendant and said, "The hippocampus's folds can store 860 billion synaptic connections, but ordinary people need a specific frequency band to resonate in order to decompress the memory fragments."

"Huang Daqiu's cell phone is missing." Qi Fei said immediately, and the vibration of the air-conditioning outlet was like the sharp wind on Jiangting Island.
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In the autopsy room, Xiao Tao opened the tool box alone and made the final arrangements for the deceased. The cold instruments made a sound like ice breaking in the quiet room. The autopsy task had been completed, and the body that had been suddenly taken away was about to return to dust after completing their final justice.

The exhaust fan hummed at a steady rhythm, and Xiao Tao's latex gloves rubbed against the needle holder, making a soft sound like grinding snow. As the suture thread penetrated the seventh intercostal space, the cold light of the shadowless lamp suddenly reflected an unusual glint on the deceased's lower abdomen—a five-centimeter-long, old scar. The needle holder in his hand hovered in the air for half a second, the stainless steel surface reflecting Xiao Tao's slightly furrowed brow. He switched the suture needle to a horizontal puncture mode, the thread trailing along the scar's outline. It seemed Huang Daqiu's body couldn't be transferred today.
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"I really want to know who the person who matches Huang Daqiu is." Xiao Tao handed the new autopsy report to Qi Fei.

"There's a lot of information contained in Old Huang's body, right? Are there any new discoveries?" Qi Fei took the latest report curiously. He flicked the DNA sequence map on the cover page of the report with his fingers. The trembling sound of the paper mixed with the low-frequency vibration of the centrifuge. "While I was suturing, I discovered he'd undergone a microscopic vasectomy on his abdomen, removing his vasectomy. This is an old scar." Xiao Tao placed the tissue section under a multi-lens microscope. The cold light source projected the warp and weft network of collagen fibers onto the slide. "Type I collagen accounts for 92.7% of the central scar, which differs significantly from the type III collagen-dominated structure of fresh scars." He tapped the polarized light micrograph displayed on the electronic screen with the tip of his tweezers. "The collagen cross-linked crystals are distributed like tree rings, with each dense band representing a remodeling cycle of approximately 5.3 years." He tapped the chromatographic analysis interface with his fingers. "Combined with the unique Z-shaped suture trajectory of the 1978 microsurgical vasectomy procedure, the wound time window is locked within a 30-year range, with a fluctuation of one year. The previously discovered DNA sample was from Huang Daqiu's son, meaning this person was born when he was very young."

"30 years? Huang Daqiu is only 48 years old this year. Doesn't that mean this son was born before he was 18? It seems we have to check when he had the surgery." Qi Fei said, the pale light in the forensic room casting a deep shadow on his brow.
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Unlike Qi Dongjun's modest home, Huang Daqiu lived in the most luxurious apartment in Nancheng's emerging district. Standing on the 18th floor, he could overlook the city's bustling district. As the elevator doors, clad in Italian gray marble, opened before Qi Fei, the intelligent butler system continued to play a loop of missed call notifications. In the -square-meter living room, a Bohemian crystal chandelier cast a diamond-like glow across the living room. Beneath a wall covered in crocodile leather, a million-dollar antique clock ticked tediously.

Standing in front of the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows on the 18th floor, overlooking the neon lights of the city, the gold foil strands woven through the bulletproof glass interlayer snaking like blood vessels in the moonlight. Unopened caviar lay lined up on the open kitchen counter. Qi Fei picked one up and examined it; it was long past its expiration date; this fully equipped kitchen had never been used. In Huang Daqiu's bedroom, the oversized TV played intimate photos of him with various female companions every few seconds, but not a single photo of his family.

This wealthy man who seemed to be so prosperous in public was left with only this brand new house and the emptiness of a life of luxury after his death.

With the help of the housekeeper, they found the old medical records collected by Huang Daqiu. A good habit of a businessman is that no matter how rough it looks, he will carefully store the bills that need to be kept.

In the drawer under the desk, there was a yellowed surgical form. On the patient's signature column, the three words "Huang Daqiu" were smudged with blue-black ink, as if the tip of a pen had stayed there for a full minute.

Wu Shanqiu shifted her gaze from the surgical sheet to the photo of Huang Daqiu with the female model and said, "Huang Daqiu is such a philanderer, having so many affairs that he never bears fruit. No wonder he never acknowledged those illegitimate children; it turns out he knew he couldn't have children at all."

Zhong Kui brushed her fingertips over the withered roses in the glass vase and said, "When biological instincts are frustrated, some groups reconstruct their gender identity through frequent intercourse. His chaotic private life precisely exposes his pathological compensatory mechanism for his own shortcomings. A wild rose that cannot bear fruit always blooms more ostentatiously than an orchard flower."

(End of this chapter)