Case 020

These past few days, with no cases to handle, Han Bin was able to get off work on time. After having dinner with his parents, he put on his headphones, listened to a novel, and strolled around the neighborhood.

The landscaping in Huayuan Community was quite nice, and Han Bin thoroughly enjoyed the tranquility of his walks. When he grew tired, he would sit on a bench, listening to his audiobook, occasionally letting out a silly laugh, which drew curious glances from passers-by.

Not far away, three people approached; the man in the middle looked very familiar. Han Bin focused and realized it was his colleague, Li Hui. The two beside him—a man in a white shirt and slacks and a woman in a professional skirt suit with a work badge pinned to her chest—clearly looked like real estate agents.

Han Bin stood up and greeted, “Well, isn’t this Officer Li? What brings you here?”

“It’s been a while! Officer Han, what are you doing here?” Li Hui put on an exaggerated expression.

Han Bin glanced at his watch. “It really has been a while—almost two hours now.”

The agents at the side couldn’t help but smile awkwardly.

“Binzi, how come you’re in this neighborhood?” Li Hui asked.

“My family lives here,” Han Bin replied.

“No way, does that mean we might end up as neighbors?” Li Hui was surprised.

“Are you planning to buy a place here?” Han Bin asked.

“Are you kidding? With these prices, there’s no way I could afford it,” Li Hui shook his head. “I’m just looking to rent a single room.”

“The environment here is pretty good. Let me show you around,” Han Bin offered.

Han Bin’s family lived in Building 6; the apartment Li Hui was viewing was in Building 9, number 801. The layout was similar to Han Bin’s: three bedrooms, two living rooms, and two bathrooms.

After entering, the female agent gave a brief introduction. There were two rooms available for rent: one was the master bedroom with an ensuite, the other a south-facing secondary bedroom. Han Bin barely glanced at them, having lost interest, since the layout was identical to his own home.

“How much are the rents for these two rooms?” Li Hui asked.

“Seven hundred for the master, five hundred for the secondary,” the agent replied.

“Any chance for a discount?” Li Hui tried.

“That’s already the lowest price,” she answered.

Li Hui looked around, then asked, “Is the other room already occupied?”

“Yes, by a female tenant,” the agent replied.

“Alright, I understand the general situation—I’ll think about it,” Li Hui said.

After they went downstairs, the two agents left, leaving Han Bin and Li Hui to chat.

“Binzi, do you think it’s expensive?” Li Hui asked.

“It’s reasonable,” Han Bin said.

“Which room do you think I should rent?” Li Hui asked.

“Which do you prefer?”

“Of course the master bedroom, but it’s just a bit pricier.”

“Then go for the master. Having your own bathroom is convenient and more private,” Han Bin suggested.

Li Hui nodded.

“It’s good you’re renting here. We’ll be close and can look out for each other,” Han Bin said.

“I can even go to your place for a meal,” Li Hui joked.

…

Han Bin’s family didn’t cook every day; sometimes, he would have breakfast in the precinct’s canteen. A portion of soup dumplings, a tea egg, and a carton of milk—detectives never knew when they’d be sent out on a case, so he needed a solid meal to keep going.

After breakfast, Han Bin went to the office to find that Li Hui, Tian Li, and Zhao Ming had already arrived. After exchanging greetings, Han Bin prepared to make himself some tea.

Zeng Ping strode in, clapping his hands. “Let’s get ready, we’re heading to a scene.”

“What’s the case, Captain Zeng?” Han Bin asked.

“A homicide.”

Since it was a homicide, it was no small matter. Everyone quickly gathered their gear and rushed to the scene, accompanied by the forensics team.

“Captain Zeng, why isn’t anyone from the medical examiner’s office here?” Tian Li asked.

“Forensic Doctor Chen is away at the provincial office for training. There’s been another murder with Team One, and Doctor Wu hasn’t returned from that scene yet. He’ll come over later,” Zeng Ping explained.

“Captain Zeng, what exactly happened?” Han Bin asked.

“The person who called it in is named Li Yu, a toll collector on the highway. She worked the night shift, and when she got home this morning, she found her husband, Xing Jianbin, had hanged himself,” Zeng Ping replied.

“Murder or suicide?”

“Not sure yet,” Zeng Ping said.

Hanging is considered an unnatural death and must be reported. Only after the police investigate and rule out foul play can further arrangements be made.

…

The scene was in a suburban village. Officers from the local station had already cordoned off the area, and a crowd of onlookers pointed at a three-story house.

Han Bin got out of the car and surveyed the surroundings, finding no surveillance cameras.

Inside the gate was a small courtyard, with a beautifully built three-story house in the center.

Han Bin put on shoe covers and gloves before entering the living room. There, he saw a rope tied to a ceiling fan, and a short, stocky man with cropped hair hanging from it.

On the nearby sofa sat a woman in her thirties, head bowed, covering her face and sobbing.

“Captain Zeng, can we take the body down to photograph and gather evidence?” Lu Wen asked.

Zeng Ping nodded. “Take it down, but try not to disturb the body.”

Zhao Ming, bold as ever, volunteered to help Lu Wen take the body down, laying it flat on the ground.

Zeng Ping squatted nearby, examining the body. Only by determining whether it was suicide or homicide could the criminal investigation team proceed.

If it was suicide, they would pack up and leave.

If it was homicide, they would start tracking leads.

Han Bin followed suit and squatted to examine the body, then, gathering his courage, reached out to touch the corpse.

“I think the time of death is over nine hours,” Han Bin said.

“How do you know?” Li Hui asked.

“Generally, rigor mortis begins half an hour to two hours after death, and after nine to twelve hours, the whole body becomes stiff,” Han Bin replied.

These investigative tidbits were all things Han Bin had redeemed with merit points from the criminal investigation knowledge base—they seemed etched into his mind, ready to use at any moment.

“So, was it suicide or homicide?” Tian Li asked.

Han Bin studied the marks around the neck carefully. “Homicide.”

“How can you tell?”

“There are two main reasons. First, the ligature mark: with hanging, the ligature mark usually ascends at a forty-five-degree angle, while in homicide by strangulation, the mark is typically horizontal,” Han Bin explained.

The others nodded, understanding this point.

“What’s the second?” Tian Li asked.

“In hanging, the cause of death isn’t just asphyxiation, though the airway is blocked and the victim feels unable to breathe. The real cause is that the blood vessels in the neck are compressed, cutting off oxygen and blood supply to the brain, leading to cerebral ischemia,” Han Bin said.

“How is that different from being strangled?” Li Hui asked.

“With hanging, the blood supply is cut off, so the victim’s face usually turns pale. But with strangulation, there’s a lot of blood congestion in the face and neck, which appear dark red,” Han Bin explained, pointing at the victim’s face as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what I see!” Zhao Ming said.

“Excellent analysis,” came a man’s voice.

Everyone turned to see Zheng Kaixuan standing to the side, watching with keen interest.