Xinxing City, Municipal Criminal Investigation Detachment, underground forensic room.
The familiar smell in the air is like a cocktail made of disinfectant and a hint of blood, always freezing to the bone. The central air conditioner hummed low, like a tireless mechanical beast, maintaining the entire space in an almost vacuum of silence.
Ling Xun leaned lazily against the door frame, with his hands in the pockets of his wrinkled jacket, as if he was basking in the sun on his balcony, rather than in a morgue. His eyes were a little distracted, and he seemed to be uninterested in everything in front of him, including the outline of the stainless steel dissecting table covered with white cloth.
"You're here."
An angry voice broke the silence. Zhao Yi, the head of the criminal investigation detachment, was pacing the room irritably. He is tall and tall, but his steps are light, like a lion trapped in a cage, stepping on tight nerves with every step. The "Chuan" pattern between his eyebrows is so deep that it can trap a fly.
Ling Xun slowly turned his eyes from the ceiling, and the corners of his mouth raised a vague arc. "Captain Zhao, you are so angry, so be careful with your blood pressure. Why don't I come to solve your problem now?"
