Shanghai, autumn 1931.
Shen Yan, double doctorate from Cambridge, criminal psychology expert, heir to the Green Gang: a max-level powerhouse, back in China.
On day one, he passed a murder scene where the portly police chief was pressuring the family to accept a ruling of “suicide.” Shen Yan crouched down and looked for three seconds. “Homicide. The killer is a woman, left-handed, and a nurse.” Two minutes later, the killer was in custody. The police chief’s face turned red with humiliation.
On day two, the police were stumped by a serial face-peeling case involving a tailor. Shen Yan skimmed the case files. “The killer is 21, a tailor’s apprentice, and sells his wares at a stall by the City God Temple.” One arrest, dead on. The police station was soon lined with people bringing him money.
On day three, a bank was robbed just as Shen Yan was making a deposit. Before the robbers had even finished striking their poses, all of them were on the ground two minutes and fifty-eight seconds later. A young woman nearby gazed at him with shining eyes. “What’s your name?” Shen Yan replied, “Your creditor.”
Others solve cases by luck. Shen Yan solves them with cheats.
But he didn’t come back this time to pad his résumé. He came to collect a debt.
His father had died a brutal death ten years ago, leaving behind a bloodstained Japanese military badge and a code name: “Operation Cherry Blossom.”
A corrupt police chief wanted him silenced, foreigners wanted him to take the fall, warlords wanted him gone, and Matsumoto, head of the Japanese secret service, laid out a trap: “Mr. Shen, shall we work together for mutual benefit?”
Shen Yan picked up a bite of food. “Who taught you Chinese? You sound like a brothel.”
Matsumoto’s face darkened.
In Shanghai, by day the city was a stage, by night a graveyard. Shen Yan stood on the Bund. Beyond the reach of the neon lights, his enemies were sharpening their knives.
He pushed up his glasses and smiled. “No need to rush. Get in line. I’ll send you all off one by one.”
The Republic of China’s greatest detective is on the case.
"The Detective Shen Yan of the Republic of China" is a refreshing novel designed with care: · Every chapter makes you want to click "next chapter" ·Each volume has a climax that makes you slap your thighs · Every sentence makes you want to take a screenshot and post it on Moments ·Everyone, let you remember (at least the male protagonist) · Every case makes you think, "What the hell can this be done?"
It smells like cologne! It's a pity that it's not suitable for writing about the Republic of China, and now fast food Internet articles are not suitable for Gu Long's kind! Intense competition and lack of emotional stimulation!