A Secret (GL) - Chapter 15

At the police station in the morning, those who had worked through the night were bleary-eyed, continuing their tasks mechanically, driven almost entirely by biological instinct and habit. In a small office separated from the main workspace by only a glass wall, three people were jolted awake by the news.

Captain Li, his face covered in stubble, twitched his lips. Having been a criminal investigator for decades, he had seen his fair share of perverts. Shocking as it was, he wasn’t about to be cowed by it.

The man in the lab coat further explained the characteristics of Jingluolan: “This incense has another distinctive feature: it dissipates quickly. From the moment it’s lit until the scent vanishes takes only about ten minutes.”

This explained why, despite the enclosed space of the morgue, none of the people who rushed in to search for evidence and traces of the suspect smelled a thing in the air.

Shen Juan leaned back against her chair, lost in thought. Gu Shuge looked at the other two and nudged closer to Shen Juan’s side. She felt a chill run down her spine—a cold, creepy sensation that made her feel afraid. After a moment of fear, she suddenly snapped to her senses and reminded herself: You’re a ghost now, why are you still feeling human sensations like “chills down your spine”? With that thought, the coldness receded from her back, and she returned to being an ethereal, unfeeling soul.

Gu Shuge slightly regretted reminding herself of her death just to escape fear. Even if those “real” feelings were just habits left over from being human, they felt much better than this current drifting, senseless state.

She couldn’t help but lean closer to Shen Juan again.

Just then, the office door pushed open again. Liu Guohua entered carrying a pile of breakfast. He froze for a moment when he saw Shen Juan there.

Captain Li hurriedly explained: “Ms. Shen, Mr. Liu here has deep expertise in criminal investigation. I’ve already filed a report with my superiors to have Mr. Liu assist us in solving the case as an expert, and it has been approved.”

The subtext was clear: Since your Gu Group wants to intervene, we’ll make it convenient for you. This case is hard to solve. Your person is witnessing the investigation firsthand; if we fail to catch the culprit in the end, please be understanding of the police’s difficulties—after all, we’ve tried our best.

In reality, this wasn’t Captain Li’s idea but a direct order from above. However, having the person directly in charge of the case file the application made things look more respectful. He took the responsibility upon himself.

Gu Shuge understood the implication, and there was no way Shen Juan didn’t. She said, “That works.”

Liu Guohua wasn’t alone; he represented a team. By obtaining information from the police and combining it with the clues found by his own team, he could seek his own direction for the investigation. Simply put, he was only here to get first-hand police data; it didn’t stop him from running his own parallel investigation.

Liu Guohua understood this too. He set down the breakfast—nothing more than street food like fried dough sticks, steamed buns, and soy milk. He grabbed a tissue to wipe his hands and said, “It’s more convenient for the police to handle cases. I’ve wanted to cooperate with Captain Li for a long time.”

Captain Li felt a bit embarrassed, knowing his team was looking for an “out” in case the investigation failed. This case was too big, and the impact was too negative. If it remained unsolved, they would be in a very troublesome position with many people facing disciplinary action. But with the family’s understanding, the public relations aspect would be at least a bit better.

He waved his hand in invitation: “Have you eaten? Want some?”

As soon as he said it, he felt awkward. Shen Juan was clearly the type to travel in luxury cars and frequent high-society cocktail parties and Western restaurants. How could she eat breakfast so full of “street smoke”?

“No, thank you,” Shen Juan replied.

Captain Li didn’t push. He grabbed a steamed bun, stuffed a bite into his mouth, and said, “Then please wait a moment. Let us fill our stomachs first before we discuss the case.”

Shen Juan naturally wouldn’t expect people who worked all night to investigate on an empty stomach. Through the glass wall, she saw the junior officers in the main hall still working at their computers and files, some mid-interrogation with witnesses. They likely hadn’t had a chance to eat yet.

She took out her phone.

Gu Shuge, being right there, couldn’t help but poke her head over to look at the screen.

It really was a photo of her as a child. She looked like she had just learned to walk, wearing a little dress and stumbling across a plaza. It seemed someone had called her name, and she had turned around right into the camera. She was smiling, and behind her, a flock of snow-white pigeons took flight.

Gu Shuge’s mood was as brilliant as a garden of colorful flowers in full bloom.

When Shen Juan unlocked the screen and saw the wallpaper, her fingertips paused for a split second. It was so brief that even with Gu Shuge right beside her, she didn’t notice this tiny lapse in concentration.

She typed a text, instructing Lin Mo to buy breakfast for the entire police squad.

Across the desk, Captain Li and Liu Guohua finished their buns in a few bites and washed them down with soy milk, completing their meal. The man in the lab coat hadn’t left yet; seeing food, he stayed to scrounge a meal.

Captain Li wiped his mouth, swallowed the last of his food, and said, “This case is very difficult. The perpetrator has strong counter-reconnaissance awareness and seems quite experienced. Not a single shot captured by the cameras is usable—colleagues in the technical department are still performing facial analysis. Let’s start with a criminal psychological profile.”

He looked at Shen Juan as he spoke. She showed no intention of stepping out.

Captain Li didn’t force the issue.

In fact, from a motive perspective, Shen Juan was currently the most logical suspect. Gu Shuge’s entire inheritance passed to her, and only Shen Juan and the staff involved knew about that confidential will.

In a typical plot, she would be the most likely person to kill for money.

However, almost no one suspected her.

On one hand, the police had investigated her early on—starting a month before Gu Shuge even returned to the country. Shen Juan’s entire schedule had been handed over, and the police found nothing suspicious. On the other hand, everyone knew that two years ago, she had transferred the entire inheritance from her late husband into Gu Shuge’s name, an event that caused a huge stir at the time. The assets under Gu Yian’s name were even greater than what Gu Shuge owned. If Shen Juan had kept that inheritance, with her influence inside the Gu Group, it wouldn’t have been hard to sideline an heir who had a title but no real power.

But she didn’t. She continued to work willingly for the Gu family.

Combined, the possibility of her being the perpetrator was at its lowest.

“The criminal has a strong sense of ritual.” While swallowing his breakfast, Liu Guohua had learned about the Jingluolan from the pathologist. He spoke first: “First, the person captured on surveillance must be the culprit himself. He wouldn’t delegate the ritual of dancing before the body to anyone else. Second, his actions carry strong personal characteristics, implying a major entanglement between him and the deceased personally, rather than being a hired assassin.”

He stated these two points, and no one disagreed.

“He definitely comes from a good background. He arranged a flawless car accident and then stole the remains just as the police were about to close the case—he has a strong sense of ‘play.’ The incense chosen for the ‘ritual’ in that environment must be one he uses regularly and likes,” Captain Li added.

Liu Guohua agreed.

Shen Juan said, “Not necessarily.”

The other three didn’t expect her to speak and turned to look at her immediately. The man in the lab coat was surprised. He thought the Captain’s analysis made sense, so he said in a joking tone, “Ms. Shen, when it comes to making money, running a corporation, and contributing to the national economy, we can’t touch you. But when it comes to solving cases, you aren’t as good as us.”

Shen Juan wasn’t angry. She didn’t even show a ripple of emotion, describing her thoughts in a very calm voice.

“His background might not be good. He could be an entrepreneur who struggled and climbed up from the bottom, or an unloved member of a nouveau riche family.”

Captain Li was stunned. Liu Guohua quickly backed up his boss: “Why do you say that?”

“Jingluolan, besides its scent dissipating quickly, has another very important characteristic. After the scent vanishes, the combustion products float up and then slowly sink to the ground. Because this incense is so unique and the scent is so beautiful, someone compared its sinking process to a ‘whale fall.’ That’s the origin of its name. This is why traces of the incense were left on the white chrysanthemums.”

The pathologist asked, “What does that have to do with his background?”

Shen Juan organized her words and continued: “I agree that he likes this incense, but he probably doesn’t use it regularly. This incense is very rare and extremely expensive; sometimes money can’t even buy it. Because its scent is so alluring and leaves a deep impression, over time, the origin of its name has been forgotten by most. Only families with centuries of history might still remember it. Thus, his wealth might not be long-standing, or while he has access to it, he doesn’t have enough money to use it frequently or understand it deeply. Based on this, I judge him to be one of those two types of people.”

The man in the lab coat felt a bit embarrassed. He had only just found information about this incense in his research, and it indeed hadn’t mentioned the origin of the name.

“I believe one reason he chose Jingluolan was its ten-minute dissipation. He didn’t want anyone to know he had performed a ritual inside, so he likely didn’t know about the ‘whale fall’ characteristic either.”

“Why wouldn’t he want people to know about the ‘ritual’? Maybe he left the traces on purpose to show off?” the pathologist interrupted again.

Gu Shuge was listening intently and exhaled slowly when interrupted. She knew why.

Because this type of criminal is often highly self-important and values personal privacy intensely. The ritual is private—it is considered a “mark,” a signature they carve for themselves. Why would they show their unique mark to others?

This view came from a professional criminal psychology book written by a world-famous expert who had handled countless cases. That book was currently on the shelf in her room.

It was probably during middle school when she suddenly became obsessed with criminal investigation. It wasn’t exactly “sudden,” as she had thought detectives were cool since she was very little.

During that period, she bought many highly professional books. Shen Juan discovered this little hobby and said nothing, but a few days later, many more books in that field appeared on her shelf—some even being internal research materials.

Later, as her studies became more intense, she gradually put them down and never picked them up again. Those books remained on her shelf, forgotten by her.

Shen Juan explained the reason, and it was exactly the same as what Shuge had read in the books.

Gu Shuge felt a bit lost. Had Shen Juan read all the books on her shelf? It was likely more than that—how could she use the knowledge so fluently if she had only read them once?

Had she studied them meticulously?

Shen Juan was so busy with endless meetings, business trips, and social dinners. Where did she find the time to delve into Shuge’s former little hobby?

A hobby that even Shuge herself had forgotten.