`Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Zhao Ke sat across from Lin Yutong again, his state of mind completely different from before.

The overhead light in the interrogation room cut deep shadows across his weary face. His hands were clenched into fists, messy hair hanging over his forehead, stubble unkempt, his whole demeanor like someone who had endured a long torment.

“I went back to Hui County and found the case files from thirteen years ago,” Zhao Ke’s voice was hoarse, each word seeming to be squeezed from deep in his throat. “About your grandfather, Lin Tianming… I’m very sorry.”

Lin Yutong slowly lifted her head. Her eyes, once clear, were now bottomless, calm to the point of being chilling, as if listening to a story that had nothing to do with her.

“At that time in Hui County, forensic science was backward, criminal investigation methods were limited, many systems were imperfect,” Zhao Ke’s Adam’s apple rolled as he spoke. “Faced with an incomplete chain of evidence, the court indeed could not convict Lu Yan and the others. But—” He emphasized the word, his emotion suppressed, “but Lin Yutong, you shouldn’t take such an extreme approach to revenge! If you had doubts about the case, you could have come to the police, come to me! We could reopen the investigation! Today’s technology is enough to make the evidence from back then speak. Maybe we could give your grandfather justice!”

Lin Yutong stared at Zhao Ke without saying a word. Only after he finished did she press her dry lips together:

“Officer Zhao, are you asking me to believe the saying ‘Justice may be late, but it will never be absent’?” Her voice was soft but sharp like an ice-cold needle. “But can justice that arrives late still be called justice?”

Lin Yutong leaned forward slightly. The orange vest of the detention center rustled with her movement. “When a person has lost their most precious life, what meaning do those late-coming justice and fairness hold for them? I’d rather believe in ‘blood for blood.’ Every evildoer must pay a price.”

“I don’t need anyone to give me justice,” she said, word by word, her gaze like a blade. “I will personally send them to hell to repent.”

Zhao Ke’s breath caught. He recalled the sapling in the police corridor bent under pressure—so it had grown in the dark into a man-eating flower, choosing whom to devour.

“Chen Bowen and Zhao Tianci are both dead,” Zhao Ke said, locking onto her eyes, not missing the slightest expression. “Do you know that?”

“Is that so?” Lin Yutong’s expression was as indifferent as if she were talking about the weather. “That’s good.”

“Was it you?”

Lin Yutong did not answer. Hearing the news of their deaths, the corner of her mouth lifted in a barely noticeable arc, not seeming surprised.

Zhao Ke took a deep breath and rephrased the question: “With your professional ability, you could have dealt with Lu Yang—or Lu Yan—in a more covert way. Why did you deliberately leave the bone fragments in a place where they could easily be found?”

Lin Yutong gently turned her wrist. The metal handcuffs reflected a cold halo under the light. “If this were just an ordinary murder, would you have invested so much police power, investigated so thoroughly?”

Zhao Ke was momentarily speechless. He knew the answer all too well—under normal procedures, this case would at most form a task force. They would inspect the scene step by step, conduct autopsies, check social connections… It would never become the citywide uproar it had, requiring mobilization of all criminal investigation forces, even alerting the provincial office, and reexamining the fates of Lu, Chen, and Zhao.

It was precisely those deliberately discarded human bone fragments that acted like a key, prying open the case files sealed for thirteen years.

When the interrogation ended, Zhao Ke got up and walked to the door. His hand paused on the doorknob. Without turning back, he asked the question that had troubled him for a long time: “The thirty-two cuts on Lu Yang, did you really make them?”

Lu Yang’s fatal wound was only the one on his chest; the other thirty-one cuts bore marks of vented anger but deliberately avoided vital points.

“It’s not over,” Lin Yutong’s calm voice came from behind. “I said every evildoer must pay a price.”

A week later, the case reached a critical breakthrough.

“Team Leader Zhao, we re-examined Lu Yang’s social connections and found he had long-term improper relationships with multiple women,” a young officer spread out the files on the table. “One of them, a nurse named Lu Xiaohui, suddenly went missing after the incident.”

Another officer hurried in, speaking urgently: “Lu Xiaohui is a major suspect! Her roommate confirmed that on the morning of the incident, she packed her luggage in a flustered state, claiming there was an emergency at home, and left Wucheng by car.”

“Immediately arrest Lu Xiaohui!” Zhao Ke decided decisively.

His hand froze when touching Lu Xiaohui’s file. For some reason, a familiar and strong premonition gripped him—sure enough, the file showed: Lu Xiaohui graduated from Hui County No. 3 High School, later entered Wucheng Medical University’s Nursing Department, and had secretly dated Lu Yang for two years.

Zhao Ke’s heart sank sharply, as if seeing the massive net of fate tightening.

At the same time the arrest order was issued, the technical department reported new findings: “Team Leader Zhao, skin tissue extracted from the nail crevice of Lu Yang’s left index finger, after DNA comparison, matches Lu Xiaohui’s sample at 99.99%—she had physical conflict with Lu Yang.”

Zhao Ke slowly closed the file. A sigh escaped his lips.

It turned out the truth had been planted thirteen years ago; now it was merely a delayed reckoning.

The camera slowly pulled up. The image drifted in hazy light and shadow, eventually returning to the gates of Wucheng Medical University three months ago.

The shadows of phoenix trees swayed. Lin Yutong hid in the dense shade, her gaze locking onto Lu Yang like a surgical knife. He leaned casually against a car waiting for someone. When Lu Xiaohui appeared, Lu Yang naturally wrapped his arm around her waist and placed a kiss on her lips.

“By the way, a couple of days ago, the local police station back home actually called again about that old man,” Lu Yang toyed with Lu Xiaohui’s hair, laughing contemptuously. “So many years have passed, and they still won’t let it go.”

Lu Xiaohui playfully punched him: “You talk! If I hadn’t been smart and come out to testify, you’d have been in jail already. How could you be with me now?”

“That old man meddled too much,” Lu Yang snorted. “Our quarrel has nothing to do with him. He insisted on getting hit, and even tried to extort money after he died. If you ask me, he deserved it!”

In the deep shadows of the trees, Lin Yutong’s knuckles turned white, her nails digging deeply into her palms.

…

In the medical school corridor, Lu Xiaohui stared at the gray sky outside, dazed. She had just discovered evidence of Lu Yang cheating again, her chest blocked by anger with nowhere to release it, a violent emotion surging in her eyes.

Lin Yutong walked past her holding her textbook.

“Junior…,” Lu Xiaohui suddenly spoke, “can I ask you a question?”

The junior, who always kept to herself, solitary in temperament but excellent in grades, stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around. Her gaze lingered on Lu Xiaohui’s face for two seconds before she nodded lightly. “Senior, go ahead.”

“In class just now, the teacher said some wounds look terrible, but as long as you avoid vital organs and blood vessels… they won’t be fatal.” Lu Xiaohui unconsciously twisted her fingers. “I didn’t quite understand.”

Lin Yutong tore a page from her notebook, spinning a pencil between her fingers. “I’ll draw it for you.”

She casually sketched a few lines, outlining a clear human figure. “Here is the heart, here is the main artery. As long as you avoid these areas…”

The pencil scraped against the paper, marking precise points, as if drawing a map leading to the abyss.

~

“The Saint in the Mist” finale night, the platform’s heat surpassed 30,000, DouJiao ratings soared to 9.0, making it this year’s most controversial and thought-provoking hit series.

If the first eight episodes’ popularity merely allowed Shi Yin to be “noticed in the entertainment circle,” then the last four episodes’ “Lin Yutong” truly sparked a nationwide debate on justice and revenge, with countless viewers fiercely arguing on either side of law and emotion:

“Help, I’m crying so hard I can’t breathe. Grandpa protected a stranger girl, but the law couldn’t protect him or Tongtong!”

“Kill kill kill! Kill them all!! Kill kill kill! Kill every last one!!”

“I love Lin Yutong. If the law can’t give me justice, I’ll take it back with my own hands!”

“Rewatching the first episode, when Lin Yutong threw Lu Yang’s bone fragments into the trash, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help shouting: well thrown!”

“Can we stop empathizing with criminals? Lin Yutong’s actions are fundamentally violent too.”

“Seeing so many ‘well done’ comments really worries me. This is a TV show, not a crime manual!”

“Don’t forget Lin is a forensic scientist. Breaking the law using professional skills to kill and dismember—should that be admired?”

Among the many heated comments, a long review titled “Shattered Justice: Lin Yutong’s Tragic Transformation from Forensic Scientist to Sacrificer” became popular. It read:

“Lin Yutong was never a born criminal.

The little girl kneeling beside her grandfather’s corpse thirteen years ago is long gone. The one who survived is a lone soul abandoned by justice.

She once believed in the fairness of the law, but when case files were sealed and evidence shelved, she realized: the system never protects the truth, only order itself. That’s why we see the most shocking transformation in the series: a once law-abiding person becomes the most precise lawbreaker. What she accomplishes with a scalpel is no longer redemption, but sacrifice—sacrificing her conscience, sacrificing a normal life, becoming a blade born for revenge.

Those carefully handled corpses, those deliberately left bone fragments, are her final question to the world: when justice is absent, do we have the right to execute it ourselves?

Lin Yutong’s tragedy is not in being handcuffed in the end, but in walking toward hell more consciously than anyone else. She didn’t win; she was exhausted. This character forces us to confront a cruel question: if we were her, would we make the same choice?”

Within two hours of publication, the review was shared over a thousand times, and the comment section became a gathering place for viewers to express complex emotions.

“The author spoke my heart! Lin Yutong isn’t a villain; she’s a victim failed by the system.”

“But we can’t fight violence with violence. That mindset is too dangerous.”

“After reading this, I feel even worse. This is the most helpless part of reality.”

Late at night, Shi Yin scrolled through comments, lingering on this long review for a while and gently tapped a like.

The reputation of The Saint in the Mist continued to grow. On the third day after the finale, viewer satisfaction for “Lin Yutong” steadily surpassed 85%.

Almost at the moment the numbers jumped, the familiar transparent screen silently appeared before Shi Yin:

【Main Task “Debut” Completed】

【Reward Obtained: Accessory · Soft Light Brooch】

A delicately shaped brooch quietly landed in her palm. Its main body was a sun outlined in warm golden metal, with tiny red gemstones in the flower’s center. It felt warm, as if it could really radiate sunlight.

【Soft Light Brooch: When worn, renders a subtle soft glow around the user, effectively reducing hostility and aggressive intent in ordinary people nearby. Duration: 2 hours, Cooldown: 8 hours】

“Reduce aggressive intent?” Shi Yin held the brooch, scratching her head in puzzlement. “Lin Yutong is definitely a villain, but the show hasn’t even aired enough for viewers to feel sympathy… Even if they don’t like her, would they really attack me on the street?”

This reward came in a strangely suspicious way. Its function was so targeted, it almost seemed to foreshadow some imminent trouble.

Rubbing the warm sun pattern with her fingertips, Shi Yin narrowed her eyes and mentally placed her hands on her hips, asking herself:

“Xiao Assistant, you… are you secretly up to some mischief again?”

~

A few days later, Wen Jinhe stormed in wearing eight-centimeter high heels, slapping a neatly bound script gently onto Shi Yin’s face with a “smack.”

“‘Reverse Scale,’ a key project guided by the Central Political and Legal Committee,” Wen Jinhe grabbed Shi Yin by the back of her collar, lifting her off the sofa like a little kitten, speaking quickly and forcefully. “Director Gu Jizhou wrote, directed, and supervised it himself. Liu Chuan and Liang Yicheng are the dual male leads, veteran actors everywhere, top-tier resources. So many people have tried to get a part, but couldn’t even come close.”

Wen Jinhe crossed her arms, stating without room for objection: “Be on set on time next month. Filming locations are Jing, Hu, and Tan. Your scenes are concentrated in Tan City. School arrangements, you handle yourself.”

“Next month is military training. Taking leave shouldn’t be a problem.” Shi Yin took the heavy script, fingertips brushing the gold-stamped title, unable to hide her surprise. “Such a solid ‘cake.’ Wen Jie, how did you manage to tear this off for me?”

“Big sis has connections,” Wen Jinhe said, chin slightly raised, letting out a proud hum. “The project is still confidential. Keep it close, store the script properly, don’t let anyone see it carelessly.”

Shi Yin nodded like a little chick pecking at rice, full of anticipation. “Which role do I play?”

“Chen Shouzhuo’s adopted daughter, Chen Xiang.”

Chen Shouzhuo is the biggest villain in the series, a criminal overlord whose name “Shouzhuo” (keeping things simple) is ironically the opposite of “masterful simplicity,” a sophisticated hypocrite.

As the son of the vice mayor of Jiankang City, Chen Shouzhuo appears to be a gentle, elegant young entrepreneur, but in reality, he is ruthless, dealing only in unsavory, hidden businesses. The character is terrifyingly deep. He has no particular vices, doesn’t smoke, drink, or keep mistresses. His only soft spot and tenderness are reserved for his adopted daughter, Chen Xiang.

“Wen Jie, give me five minutes, okay?” Shi Yin said, then, without waiting for Wen Jinhe’s reaction, dashed back to her bedroom, carefully locking the door, and took out the Drama Explosion Seer from the nightstand drawer to scan the Reverse Scale script.

————————————

【Project Evaluation】 Reverse Scale (Full Version)

————————————

Script Rating: ★★★

Explosive Drama Index: ★★★★☆ (Annual Hit)

Audience Satisfaction: 78% (Widely praised)

Core Element Analysis (Score out of 10)

Basic Popularity: 9.0

Capital Investment: 8.0

Director Skill: 9.0

Actor Lineup: 9.0

Art, Costume, and Props: 9.0

⚠️ Risk Alert: 80% chance of flop ending!

————————————

“What are you doing? Hiding inside to hatch little chicks?” Wen Jinhe’s knock came with urgency.

“Coming, coming,” Shi Yin hurriedly scanned the evaluation, not having time to read the flop analysis, only remembering the string of 9.0s. She put the device away, opened the door as if nothing happened, flipped to the “Chen Xiang” sections of the script, and naturally asked, “Do I need to audition?”

“Yes,” Wen Jinhe nodded. “The producer Zheng Bei really admired your performance in Mist Walkers and sent the script proactively. But director Gu Jizhou is quite difficult, doesn’t know you, and has absolute authority in this team. You have to earn his approval with your skill.”

She took a breath and quickly moved to the next point: “Also, this drama requires action scenes. I’ve arranged martial arts and shooting lessons for you. Remember to attend…”

Shi Yin obediently nodded. Thinking of the Sanda skill she had unlocked not long ago, she wondered if she could use it while filming.

Wen Jinhe calmly finished the sentence: “…and remember to pay for it yourself.”

Shi Yin: “!!”

As a female celebrity, she was nearly broke, to the point of having to borrow money for classes—can you believe that?

Shi Yin spent some time reading through the script outline. Her delicate fingertips paused on the page, slightly furrowing her brow. “This Chen Xiang… why is she a villain again?”

“Different from Lin Yutong,” Wen Jinhe’s red lips curved slightly. After a thoughtful pause, she gave a precise analogy: “If I had to describe her, Chen Xiang is like… Lin Daiyu pulling the willow upside down, or maybe the Namu Gatling Bodhisattva?”

Three question marks appeared above Shi Yin’s head: “???”

“Chen Xiang’s upbringing was darker. Under Chen Shouzhuo’s protection, she was innocent, a little white flower untouched by the mud,” Wen Jinhe said, then suddenly shifted her tone. “—But this only applies to before Chen Shouzhuo’s ‘offline’ period.”

Shi Yin quickly flipped to the latter half of the script. After her adoptive father Chen Shouzhuo’s “death,” the seemingly pure and innocent Chen Xiang directly turned dark, ruthlessly killing an undercover police officer.

So… a face like a little white flower, but a heart like a black lotus?

Shi Yin’s emotions were complicated. Before she could even comment, Xiao Assistant actively jumped out, eagerly issuing two new missions:

【Main Task: Appeared! A woman worse than Madame Birong!】

【Task Content: Perform the role of “Chen Xiang” in Reverse Scale, achieving a breakout index of Lv4 (four stars)】

【Recurring Task: Accumulate steps to reach a thousand miles】

【Task Content: Complete 100 hours of fully invested filming work, accumulating acting experience】

【Task Reward: Gossip Blind Box draw attempts +5】

【This task can be repeated; current completion cycles: 0/10】

Shi Yin: “!!”

The corner of her mouth twitched as she mentally raged: Xiao Assistant, have you been watching too many palace dramas, or have you been contaminated by some weird thing?!

Only one thought lingered in her mind, unstoppable.

A woman worse than Madame Birong… it’s over. From now on, I really have to wear the Soft Light Brooch when going out.