Chapter 214: The Postcard

Many doubts.

To be precise, a growing number of doubts.

According to the clear timeline submitted when the case was closed, this case should have been straightforward.

Qin Guan had a secret rendezvous with Qi Min at Lakeside Charm Hotel. In the heat of passion, Qin Guan strangled Qi Min with a black stocking, then stuffed her body into a suitcase and dumped it into the lake.

After the crime, Qin Guan took Qi Min's phone, hid the phone and SIM card separately, logged into Qi Min's social media accounts, posted updates on her social feed in her voice, submitted her resignation letter, and contacted her boyfriend Li Yang—all in an attempt to cover up Qi Min's death.

A case as simple as it gets.

But one fatal, unexplainable flaw was Qi Min's hair—in the Lakeside Charm Hotel surveillance footage, Qi Min had shoulder-length brown hair from the moment she entered the hotel until she left.

She also had long hair during her rendezvous with Qin Guan in the room—afterwards, the cleaning staff never found any cut hair while tidying up. That was point one. Point two: after killing and disposing of the body, Qin Guan had no reason whatsoever to cut Qi Min's hair.

So why was the body in the suitcase found with short hair?

Did Qin Guan cut it to prevent the body from being recognized?

Or did they playfully cut her hair during their rendezvous that day?

Neither explanation made sense.

Another doubt was Qi Min's fingernails—the suitcase retrieved from the lake bottom was immediately transferred to the local police station. Old He practically dragged everyone from the forensic department over. They worked overtime, leaving no detail unchecked, but they found none of Qi Min's fingernails.

Not a single one of the ten fingernails.

Yes, the body had been submerged for nearly a month, severely swollen, decomposed, and fragile. Some areas showed exposed soft tissue and bone. But no fingernails.

Naturally, Qin Guan had always denied any involvement.

If Qin Guan did it, if he accidentally killed Qi Min in the heat of passion, and he had already decided to sink the body in the lake, why go to the extra trouble of pulling out all ten fingernails?

Another doubt: the nightgown.

When Qi Min was discovered, she was wearing a red silk spaghetti-strap nightgown. Logically, delicate silk submerged underwater for nearly a month, subjected to soaking and the body's swelling, should have severely shrunk and deformed. Not only deformed, but the silk dye should have dissolved and faded. Therefore, the nightgown couldn't possibly have remained a uniform red; irregularly sized stains would inevitably have formed.

However, that nightgown had no stains at all.

Moreover, the forensic lab found that the fibers of the nightgown had become brittle and stiff—this couldn't be caused solely by prolonged soaking. This condition more commonly occurs after prolonged exposure to sunlight.

But Old He's investigation into Qi Min's purchase records revealed that she had only bought that silk nightgown shortly before her business trip.

She hadn't worn it for sunbathing or anything like that.

Did the nightgown get exposed to intense sun during transportation to the brand store?

Old He kept this doubt in mind.

Then, there was the HANKE suitcase.

This expensive suitcase was made of a new polymer material, but some of the hardware used brass—brass clasps and a handle gave it a retro feel. However, brass submerged underwater for a long time oxidizes, causing slight discoloration on the surface. Based on the case timeline, the suitcase should have been submerged for nearly a month; the brass clasps and handle should have turned completely green by then.

Yet, the suitcase retrieved from the lake bottom visibly had brass clasps and a handle that were still golden.

The forensic lab concluded that the suitcase had likely been underwater for only about a week.

If the suitcase was submerged for only a week, how did the body inside soak for nearly a month?

However, there was another possibility: the brass hardware on the suitcase had been treated to prevent rusting. Old He contacted the suitcase manufacturer and confirmed this was the case.

The short hair, the nightgown, the missing fingernails, the suitcase—these unexplainable points forced Old He to acknowledge that what Qin Guan had repeatedly mentioned might be true: Qi Min's time of death might be wrong.

And this "wrongness" compelled Old He to shift his focus back to Xu Ruyi.

But that led to another dead end—"Zeng Demei" had never appeared, and the only possible accomplice, Feng Zhi, always had a solid alibi.

"If Xu Ruyi really set this up, how on earth did she do it? The alibi I can understand—hiring someone who looks like Feng Zhi. But how did she manipulate the time of death?" Officer Wu was baffled.

Old He was equally perplexed.

Even Qin Guan couldn't explain it.

After Qin Guan's attempted suicide by headbutting the pillar, he stayed in the hospital for three days. He had indeed succeeded in generating another wave of public attention for the case.

When he returned to the detention center, a law firm actually volunteered to take his case—such a high-profile case was immensely beneficial for a small firm's reputation. Losing could win public sympathy; winning would immediately elevate their standing in the industry several notches.

Qin Guan achieved his goal—his new lawyer was quickly in place.

Naturally, the higher-ups were also getting restless.

"Master He, if only you hadn't taken this case in the first place. Too many eyes are on it now. Pressure from above, scrutiny from outside... the pressure on us is enormous," Officer Qian lamented.

"Doesn't matter how many eyes are watching. What we're after is the truth. The rest doesn't matter," Old He replied, sitting back down at his desk and reopening the case file.

Dig. Dig again. No truth under the sun can be hidden forever.

Even though Xu Ruyi was trying hard to hide it—Old He visited Guanlan Court three times in ten days. No matter how he reasoned, threatened, cajoled, or even dangled the victory in her father's case before her, she remained tight-lipped.

Without proof, he couldn't pry open her mouth.

Old He unscrewed his thermos, took a sip of green tea, put on his reading glasses, and meticulously studied every detail in the case file—perhaps he had missed some piece of information...

His eyes ached, but he found no new leads.

Xu Ruyi's social circle was frighteningly clean—where would a woman like her find "helpers" capable of such a thing? People who could pull off such a difficult operation, whom she could completely trust, and who would never blackmail her afterwards, leaving her with huge trouble?

Where would she find such people?

Someone entered the office. Old He snatched off his reading glasses and tossed them onto his cluttered desk—age was catching up; he was getting a bit farsighted, but he didn't want his subordinates to see it.

"Captain He, what for lunch? Want me to bring something up?" Officer Wu asked helpfully.

Old He shook his head, his gaze falling on the reading glasses—the magnifying lenses had enlarged a corner of something.

Old He pulled that object out from under the messy pile of documents. It was a postcard sent by his son. He had gone skydiving over a beautiful local valley. Over the phone, Old He had pleaded with a humble laugh for him to send more photos. His son hadn't sent a single photo in the end, but he had at least mailed this one postcard.

The well-wishes printed on the postcard felt cold and impersonal.

Old He stared at the postcard. Suddenly, a fleeting image from his memory flashed across his mind again.

He jumped up excitedly, grabbed his jacket, and left.