The night in Xinhai City is like a canvas soaked in thick ink, and even the halo of neon lights looks weak.
On the top rooftop of the Tianqiong Technology Building, the cold wind whimpered and stirred up the dust on the ground, bringing with it a unique city smell of exhaust fumes and moisture. The cordon roughly cut the area like a yellow scar.
Su Qing was squatting next to the corpse, a strand of disobedient hair slipping from the edge of her police hat and sticking to her smooth forehead. Her eyes were focused like a surgeon performing a delicate operation. The tweezers in her hand carefully picked up an almost invisible fiber and put it into the evidence bag. As the youngest and most aggressive newcomer in the city police department, she has an almost faith-like persistence in the words "procedural justice."
"The deceased, Chen Mo, was the chief programmer of Tianqiong Technology. He was 38 years old. He fell to the southeast corner of the rooftop, which is consistent with the characteristics of falling from a high altitude. There were no obvious external injuries on the body, and no signs of struggle were ruled out. The initial conclusion of the on-site investigation was that he committed suicide." Lao Li Hui, a colleague next to him, reported, with a hint of exhaustion in his voice, "We are together again, working in technology, the pressure is really great."
