Forensic doctor Gu Mingcheng's autopsy table was always colder than the morgue, until criminal investigation team leader Cheng Ye kicked open the door.
The electrified sarcasm shattered the silence of the refrigerator, and gun smoke and formalin were tangled under the burst fluorescent tubes. When the faulty circuit welded the fate of the two people into the same body, the pale soul wrapped in the dark blue police uniform began to pull the trigger with the hand holding the scalpel.
He was forced to vomit the smell of his body sweat in the fighting training ground, and he sutured the wound on "his" old scar in front of the autopsy table. The shared heartbeat resonates at the scene of the serial arson, and memory fragments seep out through the cracks in the pocket watch - in the blue light of the substation in 1987, two pairs of young hands once touched the same piece of electrified snow.
The old case files fermented in the evidence room and smelled like rust. On New Year's Eve, electricity passed through the interlocked fingers, and the faces reflected in each other's pupils flickered. When the bartender handed over two cocktails with different names, they finally saw the truth clearly in the shaking ice balls: the so-called soul exchange was just an escape hatch made up by the dying person for his lover.
On that rainy night when I missed my appointment, there were blood-stained magnolia petals floating in the water. When the scalpel opened the third button of the police uniform, Gu Mingcheng found dried wolfberries and an unopened wedding ring in Cheng Ye's chest. On the last page of the closing report, he filled in the eternal value for his lover's heartbeat - 36.5°C, just like the cup of warm coffee that he knocked over on his autopsy table when they first met.
Later, someone always saw Cheng Ye winding the pocket watch in the evidence bag, and the sound of the gears clenching was like murmuring love words. The dial always stops at seven o'clock and seven, and a moonlight plant that will never fade blooms from the crack in the glass.
Concept: When the truth becomes the final anatomy object, the love left outside the closing report is the only complete evidence.