Xiaotao asked me what I planned to do next. I said there was nothing for now. While waiting for their updates, I might as well head back to the hotel to get some rest.
When we returned, Wang Dali was still lying down. I brought him the packed roast duck and food. To my surprise, he ate heartily, asking about the day's investigation. I briefly shared my thoughts.
After listening, Wang Dali asked, "Yangzi, do you think this case wasn't done by a human?"
"No. No matter the case, I firmly believe a human is behind it. Otherwise, there's no point trying to solve it." My eyes burned with conviction.
At that moment, sounds of running water came from next door. Wang Dali immediately perked up, smirking, "Listen, Sister Xiaotao's taking a shower!"
"That's not right. Next door is Wang Yuanchao's room," I corrected.
He sighed, disinterested, and lay back down. "Ugh, old Wang next door."
We drove overnight to Wuqu City. I was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed. After waking, I felt much better and checked my phone—several messages had come in.
The task force set up a WeChat group. One cop reported an important lead and said the matters regarding Bai Yidao and Luo Weiwei were settled.
...
I got dressed and knocked on Xiaotao's and Wang Yuanchao's doors one by one. After about five minutes, Wang Yuanchao appeared, fully dressed. I asked, "Not asleep?"
"I was," he answered coldly.
A while later, Xiaotao opened her door, wearing hotel pajamas and a moisturizing face mask. She stretched and said, "That was a good nap. What's up? Any leads?"
"Yes. Ten minutes to get dressed," I urged.
"Ten minutes? Hey, have you ever waited for a girl? Getting dressed and doing hair takes at least half an hour. Makeup takes even longer." She sounded flustered.
I realized girls really do take time getting ready. "Alright, Wang and I will head there first. You come when you're ready."
"Okay!"
At the second-floor conference room, Bai Yidao, Luo Weiwei, and another cop were waiting. Bai Yidao handed me two paper packages. One held three cypress-wood carved masks, the other some Chinese herbs.
I praised, "You're quick."
He replied lazily, "My buddy makes crafts. His shop has a lathe. What do you want these for?"
"Important use," I said mysteriously.
Luo Weiwei brought two lab mice in small iron cages.
The cop said he checked the victim's bank account and found a suspicious withdrawal—over five million yuan—disappeared after death. The payee was someone named Yu Jun.
I told him to investigate Yu Jun with Bai Yidao. Luo Weiwei had no task, so I said she could leave early.
But Luo Weiwei insisted on joining the investigation. Before she left, I got the murder scene key from her.
I borrowed the lab to slowly decoct the herbs over low heat, then asked the accompanying cops for blood serum samples from the male and female victims.
After serum separation, I injected 20mm doses into each mouse.
Xiaotao arrived, saw me brewing herbs and injecting mice, and teased, "Songyang, what evil experiment are you up to?"
"You'll see soon enough."
After a while, both mice were lively. Xiaotao frowned, "Nothing happened?"
"Experiment failed. I wanted to see if they'd turn on each other," I shrugged.
"Turn on each other?" she asked.
"Yes. Since the tech team's results are slow, I tried a biological test. Looks like we can rule out drug involvement in these two deaths." I sighed.
"Songyang, you're so cruel!" she exclaimed.
I told the tech team to stop further testing. They cheered, happy to finish early.
After decoction, I filtered the herbal juice, dipped a tissue in it, and applied it inside the masks. Xiaotao sniffed and said, "What's that smell? Weird."
"You'll find out soon."
When the masks dried, I grabbed them and the mouse cages. "Let's head back to the crime scene."
"Now? It's 5:30 PM. It'll be dark there soon," she said.
"No worries. I plan to go at night!" I smiled mysteriously.
The three of us drove to the old street. As dusk fell, everyone stayed inside eating and watching TV. We lifted the police tape and used Luo Weiwei's key to enter.
The night air was eerily still. Xiaotao tried the lights—no power.
I joked, "Maybe they didn't pay the bill."
We used phone lights.
The flour I'd scattered earlier showed no footprints. Upstairs, I placed the mice on the windowsill, opened the window, and pulled out three pairs of gloves. I asked them to tidy the scene—arrange tables and chairs, sweep shards. The phone lit the table's center.
When done, I took out the masks. "Let's do a crime scene reenactment."
"What?" Xiaotao was shocked. "This place is soaked in blood! The atmosphere is so creepy."
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
She hesitated. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes."
She reluctantly nodded.
I assigned roles: Xiaotao and I would be the couple, Wang Yuanchao the old lady. But the place was too spooky; since the old lady had no lines, Wang Yuanchao stayed aside to watch and interrupt if anything strange happened.
I handed Xiaotao a mask and put one on myself. The masks were heavy and only allowed vision through two eye holes. She weighed hers, saying, "We never learned about these creepy masks in police school. What exactly are you up to?"
I smiled and explained. This was the "Perpetrator Reenactment Technique" from the Chronicles of the Corpse Whisperer.
Our Song ancestor was inspired by Nuo opera, where ancient shamans wore grotesque masks and danced to communicate with spirits. He wondered if a similar approach could reconstruct crimes.
After ten years of trials, he developed this technique: different people play roles in the crime to reenact the process, delve into the perpetrator's mind, and find overlooked clues.
Roles are divided by gender and life-death status, represented by twelve masks of the Nuo opera's ancestral spirits. Each mask is scarier than the last, designed to evoke fear in the actors.
Xiaotao's mask symbolized the middle-aged female victim—"Jumang." Mine represented the middle-aged male killer—"Chiyou."
The mask interiors were coated with a special herbal concoction that triggered emotional responses, making joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness feel vividly real.
The technique is complex, combining psychological suggestion and things beyond science.
Legend says someone collapsed mid-ritual and cried out the killer's name in the victim's voice, solving a decade-old cold case.
But it's undeniably dangerous.
I chose to use it because, one, the case had stalled; two, I had a theory to test…