Dreamscape Detective

Shen Zhixia can "see" what other people hide in their dreams.

It's not communication with spirits. When she comes into contact with a crime scene or a victim's belongings, her brain automatically pieces together forgotten fragments, like a film she can't wake from, replaying every detail about the killer.

Fu Yi of the city bureau's major crimes unit initially thought she was a fraud.

That was until she blocked his office door and recited, word for word, the connections between three cold cases and the three-centimeter centipede-shaped scar on the killer's left hand.

Fu Yi sneered: "Stalking me? Making things up? Or just a coincidence?"

Shen Zhixia didn't explain. She simply picked up the fairy-tale book by her bed. The moment her fingertip touched the cover, her face turned deathly pale.

"The basement, the peeling paint on a red fire hydrant, an old factory on the outskirts. Also, the missing corner of the taillight in the second car crash, and the half-character 'Huai' on the wall of the alley in the third case."

Fu Yi was silent for three seconds, then grabbed his coat. "Let's go."

From then on, Jiangcheng had a strange new team: a female consultant who finds clues through "dreams" and a cold-faced detective who doggedly pursues physical evidence and surveillance footage.

She slips into a vision; he says, "That's nonsense."

She gives him details; he checks the evidence.

Every time she "wakes up" with a splitting headache, he complains, but his hand always steadies her arm.

Three cold cases, unraveled layer by layer, with clues fitting together seamlessly and not a single gap in the chain of evidence.

But when the final dream ends, Shen Zhixia stares at the old scar on her wrist and finally remembers:

The nightmare that has been chasing her all this time is where every case began.

"Fu Yi, this time I'm the victim."

"...Then I'll pull you out of the dream with my own hands."