Chapter 158: The Fake Death Syndrome

Li Wei was lying on the floor, surrounded by blood, with a pair of scissors plunged into his chest. I stepped forward and felt his neck for a pulse — faint but there. I shouted, "He's still breathing! Get him into emergency care, now!"

Huang Xiaotao immediately dialed 911. Scanning the room, I noticed the wardrobe door was open, packed with various girls' clothes. On the table lay makeup, combs, fake eyelashes... The blood was still warm. The corpse hadn't gone far.

I unfolded my forensic umbrella and borrowed a UV light from a tech team officer, asking Wang Dali to hold it. Adjusting the umbrella, faint bloody footprints appeared on the stairs.

Wang Dali and I followed them all the way down to a flower bed — and there she was, a female corpse lying inside.

She wore a pink dress, her height and build matching my previous deductions perfectly. Without a doubt, this was the killer. I flipped her over, and Wang Dali gasped, "Wow, she's beautiful!"

He wasn't wrong. The girl had a sweet, almost cartoon-like face, with big eyes. Her body was ice-cold, pale with a bluish tint — the exact color of the dead. Veins faintly visible beneath her skin. She wore nothing but the dress, which was stained with some blood. I noticed one of her right index fingernails was broken.

I checked her pulse. Nothing. I turned to Wang Dali and said, "Get the stethoscope."

"No stethoscope. I left it back in the room. Song Yang, is she really dead?" he asked.

I didn't know. I'd never dealt with something like this before.

Footsteps approached. Huang Xiaotao and the others arrived, and when they saw the girl, all the male officers were visibly stunned. Huang Xiaotao brought my bag; I took out my stethoscope — this would be the first time I examined a living corpse.

...

I listened carefully. No heartbeat. No internal organ activity. I pried her eyelids open — the pupils were dilated, completely lifeless.

I noticed her legs looked oddly positioned. "Spread her legs. I'm going to try to bring her back."

Everyone stepped back instinctively. I examined her legs without hesitation — to me, she was just an object.

Tensing up, I waited — then suddenly, the girl's eyes snapped open. Her dilated pupils focused sharply. She grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at my head.

"Watch out!" Huang Xiaotao shouted. I had my special vision activated and predicted the movement by the tension in her arm muscles. I blocked just in time; the rock missed my nose by inches.

"Don't be afraid, we're the police," I said firmly.

Panicked, the girl stumbled back, then leapt out of the flower bed and began to flee. Huang Xiaotao gave the order, and officers blocked her escape from both sides.

Suddenly, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, hitting her head hard on the ground with a loud thud. Everyone was shocked. An officer checked her pulse and muttered, "Dead again..."

Huang Xiaotao ordered, "Take her away."

They brought the girl's body back to the station. Was she a suspect or a corpse? No one knew. We placed her in the morgue, turned off the air conditioning, and assigned two officers to watch her around the clock.

It was almost dawn. Huang Xiaotao offered, "I'll take you guys back to campus."

"You must be exhausted. Wang Dali and I will catch the early bus ourselves," I replied.

After a long night, Huang Xiaotao was indeed tired and agreed. On the bus, Wang Dali quickly fell asleep. Back at the dorm, we both slept until noon. Wang Dali stretched and sighed, "My back and waist ache... investigating cases really wears you down."

Huang Xiaotao messaged: "The girl hasn't woken up yet. I've ordered an ID check."

Determined to understand this, I spent the afternoon in the library. Fake death isn't unheard of; various neurological and cardiac conditions can induce it. But a case like this — completely lifeless with no vital signs — isn't recorded in medical books.

I found a rare book on bizarre diseases with the author's email and sent a detailed inquiry about this case. The unease lingered all night, while Wang Dali blissfully watched movies with his roommates.

The next morning, the author replied. The condition was called Intermittent Death Syndrome — unrecorded in the UN's disease compendium. Only two cases had been documented worldwide, and it wasn't officially classified as a disease. The pathology remained unclear.

The author speculated the patient's hypothalamus, which controls autonomic functions, had a congenital defect causing intermittent shutdowns, leading to a fake death state.

I thanked the author and asked how to revive such a patient.

He showed interest and asked my profession. When I said I was with the police, he responded warmly: "Ah, a police comrade! According to your description, the patient briefly revives during sexual activity. I suggest trying a 3% adrenaline nerve injection."

He also expressed hope for firsthand research data, which I promised to discuss with my department.

I immediately took Wang Dali to the station. When he learned I planned to wake the girl, he got excited — like meeting a goddess from a dream.

"Get your priorities straight," I said. "She's the suspect."

Wang Dali replied, "She's clearly acting in self-defense. How could someone so beautiful be evil? Song Yang, I'm starting to think you have no feelings."

I forced a bitter smile. Since when was beauty proof of innocence?

The station was unusually noisy — two gangs had clashed overnight. The Black Panther gang's leader wanted revenge; the brawl had killed three or four people.

Among the detainees, I spotted Bald Qiang, who smirked and said, "Song Ge, what a coincidence!"

I sighed, "How come you're in again after just a few days?"

He shrugged, "They're framing me. I was just having some barbecue and got into a small spat."

The arresting officer snapped, "Enough lies! People got killed! Move it!"

Wang Dali shook his head in disbelief, "Yangzi, you sure know everyone in this world."

We found Huang Xiaotao, still swamped from last night.

"Great, let's crack this case fast," she said. "Or these brainless gangs will fight again."

She picked some officers and brought the girl's body to a conference room — all interrogation rooms were occupied.

They placed her on a chair, cuffed her hands. Her body was rigid, head tilted, completely limp. The atmosphere was eerie.

I waved my hand, "Bring in Bald Qiang."

An officer brought him over. He stared at the girl in surprise, "Song Ge, you really work miracles. Where did you find her?"

I sneered, "So, you know her then?"