Chapter 42

Chapter 42 3. panic room-16

After Liu Lingxiao’s small, cold body was sent back to the research institute, his parents arrived at the scene only ten minutes after the vehicle, accompanied by media who somehow got the news.

Countless interview vans swarmed, almost completely blocking the institute’s gates.

Even if they couldn’t photograph the people involved, they snapped furiously at the institute’s yard and office building, as if their cameras could penetrate the white-tiled walls and capture the dead child and his grief-stricken parents.

“Baby! My baby!”

Wang Lanting, the former Qianhua Award-winning actress, who had once been criticized for exaggerated fake smiles and fake cries, let out tears she had never shed on screen the moment she saw her only son’s body, flowing uncontrollably, soaking her cheeks.

She collapsed beside the narrow car bed, holding her son’s battered body, wailing heart-wrenchingly, shaking his shoulders in vain, trying to make him open his eyes.

At this moment, no one present had the ability to pull this mother away; everyone exchanged glances, seeing the same despair and helplessness on each other’s faces.

The child’s father, Liu Yang, appeared relatively calm, but though he didn’t sob openly, his hands were tightly clenched into fists at his sides, his whole body visibly trembling from shoulders to legs, clearly using every ounce of will to prevent collapsing on the spot.

Liu Yang was nearly sixty, having spent years exhausting himself in business, his hair long since white. Now, the gray-haired man stood hunched over his beloved son’s cold body, looking at least ten years older.

The white-haired man was sending off his black-haired son.

He was truly experiencing the most desolate human grief.

“What… what exactly happened!?”

Captain Shen Zun of the criminal investigation unit stared at the child’s body on the car bed and at the grieving parents, his voice low and gritted: “What happened!?”

Seeing the swarms of interview vans and countless cameras outside the window, he already had a premonition that his title of “Captain of the Criminal Investigation Unit” would soon gain the prefix “former.”

“How did the child… die!?”

Liu Yi shook his head.

He wore a white coat, his face nearly as pale as the fabric, lips pressed into a straight line, forehead creased with a clear frown.

“On a rough look, there’s no obvious fatal injury. For the rest, we’ll need to wait until the autopsy…”

“No! Impossible!!”

Though Liu Yi’s voice wasn’t loud, the word “autopsy” from the forensic doctor triggered Wang Lanting, already completely broken. Clutching her son’s lifeless body, she screamed: “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare touch my son! Don’t touch my son!!”

Once the delicate, beautiful screen goddess, her hair disheveled, eyes red, face smeared with tears and snot, looked utterly frantic and disheveled beyond anyone’s imagination.

“Baby… baby…”

She cried until her voice cracked, hoarse and trembling, “Don’t touch my baby, don’t touch my baby…”

Liu Yi’s hand in his coat pocket clenched tightly, calm yet forceful.

His nails were clipped short, almost flush with fingertips, but even so, the pressure left faint crescent-shaped scratches on his palm.

“Madam…”

He stepped forward.

From a forensic standpoint, Liu Yi needed to persuade the parents to agree to a judicial autopsy.

As he said before, the only way he could find the truth of Liu Lingxiao’s death was through autopsy.

However, the next second, unexpectedly, a figure lunged from the side, tackling Liu Yi to the ground.

The force was immense, born of uncontrolled desperation, throwing Liu Yi off balance completely.

Then, a fist was raised high and came down hard, knocking Liu Yi’s glasses off with a “crash” and striking his left cheekbone.

Liu Yi, seeing black, instinctively raised a hand to block another incoming punch.

But the assailant was already restrained by several police officers, pulled and dragged to his feet.

“Don’t touch my son!!”

The one who attacked Liu Yi was Liu Lingxiao’s father.

This once gentle and refined middle-aged businessman had become completely enraged. Even restrained at the shoulders and arms, he still kicked, trying to strike the man who wanted to dissect his son.

“It’s all your fault! All of you! Why didn’t you find my son sooner!”

He shouted hysterically, roaring at everyone around: “Why not sooner! Why couldn’t it have been sooner!!?”

Liu Yang’s tears finally poured down. Blurred, he saw his exhausted wife and his son, still held tightly in her arms, and felt the world collapse around him. His knees buckled, and along with the arms restraining him, he sank to the ground.

“Why… why couldn’t you have found him sooner…”

He opened tear-filled eyes, seemingly trying to focus on a point, blankly staring at Liu Yi in front of him, pupils scattered, only ashes of despair left.

“If only… just a little sooner… maybe… my son… wouldn’t have died…”

&&& &&& &&&

At Liu Yang and Wang Lanting’s insistence, Liu Lingxiao’s body bypassed autopsy and was sent to the funeral home.

Captain Shen Zun stood by the window, watching the hearse drive into the institute, surrounded by reporters, navigating the sea of camera shutters and shouting like a symphony. After finally leaving the gate and traveling a hundred meters, countless interview vans still tailing, his face was dark as soot.

After arranging the next investigation directions, Shen Zun prepared to return to headquarters and report to superiors on handling the media.

Before leaving, he pointed to Qi Shanyu, who had taken initiative at the institute, staying behind to continue following leads.

Once the crowd dispersed, Qi Shanyu walked to Liu Yi’s side, staring at his face, softly asking: “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Eyes aren’t hurt.”

Liu Yi lowered his eyelids, shaking his head slowly.

His fair skin made any bruising very visible. Liu Yang’s punch had landed solidly on his face, leaving a dark purple bruise on his cheekbone, looking rather fierce.

Qi Shanyu pulled a wet wipe from his bag, tore it open, and gently pressed it onto Liu Yi’s left cheek.

The cool, moist touch startled Liu Yi slightly, causing a reflexive shiver. He lifted his head, meeting Qi Shanyu’s gaze, full of concern.

“I really am fine…”

Liu Yi forced a smile at Qi Shanyu. His lips curled slightly, but his eyes remained flat, the smile strained.

He took the wipe, folded it roughly, and pressed it onto his cheek.

“…Actually, Mr. Liu isn’t wrong. If we hadn’t arrived too late, his son might not have died.”

He pressed the wipe firmly, the pain from the bruise transmitting clearly through his nerves.

When Liu Yang and Wang Lanting refused autopsy, he realized that a fact, likely to cause both public scrutiny and self-blame, would have gone unnoticed if he didn’t speak out, buried in the case’s complex details, never noticed by anyone but him.

Yet, looking at Qi Shanyu, an unspoken, almost “co-conspirator” feeling relaxed his tension, and he couldn’t help but say the words aloud.

“What do you mean?”

Qi Shanyu frowned, sensing the implication in Liu Yi’s words.

“…No, it’s nothing.”

Liu Yi looked at the young, upright, handsome officer, noticing red blood vessels in his eyes and bruises under his eyelids, and suddenly didn’t want to say anything.

He didn’t tell Qi Shanyu that when he discovered Liu Lingxiao’s body, he had checked the oral temperature with his finger.

Though only an approximation, Liu Yi’s experience suggested the oral temperature was around 30–32°C.

Given the current temperature, the child’s height, weight, and fat ratio, the oral temperature would drop roughly one degree per hour after death—meaning six or seven hours ago, the child could still have been alive—yet by then, he had already noticed the Nancheng Dyeing Factory, but one misstep prevented timely rescue.

“Let’s go.”

Liu Yi shook his head firmly, patted Qi Shanyu on the back: “Let’s check the evidence department.”

Although he couldn’t autopsy Liu Lingxiao, the principle of “every contact leaves a trace” meant he was far from giving up this case.