Yan Su put on gloves and walked to the podium to examine Anna's clothes and purse. Officer Jones leaned in, "We haven't touched anything here yet."
Without looking up, Yan Su replied, "Your only role is to be quiet. Can you not even do that?"
Jones retreated, closing his mouth.
The other officers seemed to understand Yan Su's habits and remained still. Even the night breeze appeared to pause, the curtains momentarily silent.
Zhen Ai unconsciously slowed her breathing; she knew he disliked being disturbed when he was observing.
In the spacious classroom, it felt as if only Yan Su was alive. Under the dim light, he slightly lowered his head, his sharply defined profile exuding a captivating concentration.
He methodically sifted through the pile of clothes on the table, his keen gaze occasionally resting on Anna's body beneath the desk.
He was entirely immersed in his own world. The surroundings felt illusory, with only the focus of his eyes remaining real.
The deceased wore a typical high school sports sweatshirt, and she wasn't wearing any makeup—this wasn't her usual style.
The sweatshirt had a hood, plus a black hooded cap—two hats.
Was she trying to be low-key?
The clothes were covered in dust—indicating she had struggled and rolled on the ground.
A glance at the deceased's neck revealed uneven rope marks, large areas of abrasion—there had been a violent struggle between the victim and the murderer.
He scanned the classroom floor—no traces.
He looked back down.
The hooded top was mostly dry, except for a round, moist area at the tip, cool to the touch, with a distinct shape—like something wet had been placed under the hood. Something?
There was a set of black, form-fitting lingerie—a thong, and a push-up bra—she had prepared for a date. A romantic outing? Someone she liked? Expecting to have sex?
But according to her agreement with the other four, there was no time for that in the evening.
He opened her purse, revealing a shiny phone with a cracked case, which had been glued back together. She wouldn't use a broken case unless she had left home without a replacement—damaged after her last outing.
Inside the purse were many cosmetics: foundation, BB cream, mascara, blush, lip gloss, and eyebrow pencil—one item was missing.
There were two small tubes of medication in the pocket of her sweatpants: a sleep aid and a hallucinogen. Whose were they?
Anna's?—Why would she bring medication?
The murderer's?—Why not use it on Anna instead of going through all the trouble to kill her?
Yan Su furrowed his brows, picked up Anna's phone, and scrolled through it. The last call was made at 4:26 PM to a company number. At 4:30 PM, there was a confirmation message stating that three of the five tickets Anna had booked for a basketball game had been successfully canceled.
The subsequent messages showed Daisy and Tony had read but not replied, while Kerry's were unread.
Yan Su meticulously examined the phone's contents, while still managing to converse with the surrounding officers:
"First, this is not the crime scene. Second, the time of death is incorrect. Third, at least two students knew Anna was dead before anyone reported it."
He looked at the phone, his tone too cold, clearly still lost in thought, and after he finished speaking, no one dared to ask why.
Zhen Ai listened intently, unable to help but chime in, "Why?"
After she spoke, she noticed everyone was looking at her with caution, and she felt bewildered. Was Yan Su really that intimidating? He seemed harmless enough.
Yan Su's light-colored eyes reflected the glow of the phone screen, pausing for a second before glancing at her.
Zhen Ai gazed into his clear, deep eyes, momentarily blanking out. His gaze was as serene as a still pond, reminiscent of when she first encountered him in the ancient castle.
She was still dazed when he quickly returned to focus, a hint of warmth in his gaze, the corners of his lips curving slightly, "What do you think?"
Only then did she realize that she had interrupted his quiet contemplation, leading to that brief moment of strangeness.
But once he regained his focus, he unknowingly filtered out the coldness and rigidity—just for her.
Zhen Ai felt it was quite natural, still unaware.
The nearby officers exchanged glances, shocked, thinking, "Is the oddball about to fall in love?"
Jasmine's expression soured; after a moment, she spoke to Zhen Ai, "Miss Zhen Ai, you might not know this, but S.A. doesn't like to be disturbed when he's thinking."
Zhen Ai, slow on the uptake, said, "Oh," looking at Yan Su. "Did I disturb you?"
"No," he replied quickly, ignoring the others, focusing solely on Zhen Ai, "Forget them. Answer my question. What do you think? I'd like to hear your thoughts."
Eva, squatting nearby, rolled her eyes. If it weren't for the gloves she wore from examining the body, she would have facepalmed. Was it really appropriate for them to flirt openly at a crime scene?
Zhen Ai immediately understood; he was inviting her to think along with him. Just like during the Jiang Xin case, when he took her to reconstruct the crime scene. Since he was sincerely inviting her, she happily accepted.
She took a discreet breath and said, "The first point is easy to see. The deceased's clothes were dusty and wrinkled. While the classroom has scattered desks and chairs, they're arranged quite deliberately; it doesn't look like there was a fight."
Jasmine let out a soft huff, acknowledging that everyone could see that.
"I didn't notice the third point, but now that you mention it, it suddenly makes sense," Zhen Ai said honestly. "I felt something was off earlier. Clearly, there had been a violent struggle, yet the deceased's hair is neatly tied back."
Before she finished, everyone froze, turning their gazes to the deceased's hair, which was tied in a ponytail—completely undisturbed. This was bizarre.
Yan Su didn't look at anyone else's hair; instead, he kept his eyes fixed on Zhen Ai. She was also wearing a ponytail today, but it had been a busy day for her—wedding, makeshift detention, the cinema… her hair was slightly tousled, like a fine layer of fluff…
Yan Su averted his gaze, feeling inexplicably distracted—this was unusual!
He frowned, a bit irritated.
Zhen Ai noticed his expression and thought she had said something wrong, so she quickly added, "She was stripped and hung up, and her back was carved with words. It's clear the murderer looked down on her. He must have tossed her clothes on the ground like trash. Yet, he neatly arranged the clothes."
"And…?" Yan Su pressed, his gaze intensely fixed on her.
Zhen Ai bit her lip, slightly embarrassed, but Yan Su's probing encouraged her: "The last item removed was her underwear, but it was stuffed at the very bottom of the pile. It's as if… he subconsciously wanted to cover Anna up."
Zhen Ai instinctively tugged at her hair, "On one hand, he despises her, but on the other, he comforts her; that's where I feel it's off. But I couldn't figure out why. The moment you mentioned it, I realized—it must be that several different people have been to the scene."
The room fell silent, the only sound being the whirring of the ceiling fan. Everyone suddenly recognized that saying it out loud made everything clear, yet at first glance, they had all found the scene so peculiar that none of them had been able to connect the dots.
Jasmine's brow furrowed deeper.
Yan Su moved the corner of his mouth, a smile flashing in his eyes: "Good performance." As he spoke, he pulled off his left glove, stepped forward, and patted Zhen Ai's shoulder.
This was the most ordinary encouragement, and Zhen Ai felt nothing wrong.
But Officer Jones and the others were almost stunned; that person who would die from physical contact actually initiated a touch with someone else?
Eva watched and smiled.
Jasmine, standing beside her, muttered, "What a mess! Maybe the order of that underwear was just different, and she figured out the killer's psychology from that? So presumptuous!"
Eva turned her head, her expression calm: "Don't you understand S.A.? Even if it's a phenomenon, she will think of multiple possibilities and then eliminate them. You should be ashamed—not of the relationship between this phenomenon and its possibilities, but because you didn't recognize that phenomenon from the start. But Zhen Ai did."
She turned to Zhen Ai and smiled again, "They can understand each other."
Jasmine choked on her words, ready to argue. Yan Su spoke again, this time to Zhen Ai: "What else?"
"As for the time of death..." Zhen Ai had a gut feeling that Anna's body seemed to have undergone cold treatment, but she couldn't say that in front of these people. Just as she was about to say she didn't know...
Yan Su interjected, "I understand. Let's skip that."
...Hey, is it really appropriate to show such mutual understanding like this...
Zhen Ai let out a breath of relief: "Another two strange points. I just noticed downstairs that it seems only this classroom has curtains, and they're all drawn..."
Jasmine immediately responded, "Of course, the killer isn't stupid. What if someone saw them during the murder?"
Zhen Ai didn't answer directly and continued, "Also, when were the lights turned on?"
Jasmine was stumped; she couldn't answer that question.
Anna had been hanging for one or two hours. It was dark outside, and if the lights had been on, the school administrator would have discovered it long ago; but Qi Mo said he saw the body as soon as he opened his eyes.
Then, who turned on the lights?
The night wind blew in, lifting the curtains, and Jasmine felt a chill run down her spine.
Yan Su put away his phone, took off his gloves, and said, "Let's check the first classroom."
Zhen Ai was taken aback: "Do you think that's the crime scene?"
"Otherwise, do you think the body can be carried around like a backpack?" Yan Su glanced at her, "They may have changed locations, not because they wanted to divert the police's attention, but because..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but Zhen Ai understood—only the second classroom had curtains.
The group went to the first classroom and quickly suspected it might be the crime scene. The desks and chairs were neatly arranged, but the floor had obviously been cleaned. Jones immediately used his walkie-talkie to call the forensic team downstairs.
Yan Su looked around, finding almost nothing unusual. The mirror was intact, but the corner behind the door was dusty and had signs of being trampled and rubbed. He only pointed out those two spots to Jones before heading to the third classroom.
Now, he felt it was time to meet that group of unruly kids.
Inside the classroom were several police officers, and four college students sitting in a row looked worried but somewhat composed. However, upon seeing Yan Su, everyone noticeably tensed up.
Zhen Ai sensed something was off but didn't understand why.
Yan Su didn't engage in small talk; he got straight to the point: "I have something to show you!" He pulled up a photo of Anna's back and held it in front of them. The students gasped, eyes widening in horror, as if they had seen a ghost.
Yan Su retracted his phone: "Is this the killer's message you all concealed back then?"
The young people quickly regained their composure, lowering their heads to exchange glances but not speaking.
Jasmine was puzzled but didn't want to show it, so she didn't ask.
Eva bluntly said, "Conceal? What do you mean?"
Yan Su answered her question, his sharp gaze fixed on the students: "I've always suspected that what they were afraid of wasn't some debt collector or persecution from their parents' political enemies." His tone was certain, "Regarding the message, you lied."
Everyone lowered their eyes, not looking at Yan Su.
Lied?
Except for Zhen Ai, the other officers were confused but didn't ask. With Yan Su conducting the interrogation, they couldn't show any negative emotions.
Facing the skepticism, Kerry was the first to speak, with a sarcastic tone: "Sir, you weren't a forensic officer two years ago." The implication was clear; back then, the forensic team had indeed captured images of the words on the glass.
Yan Su appeared relaxed: "I've seen it. The words were written on the fogged glass, right?"
Daisy raised her head, then lowered it: "Yes. It was written by the killer."
"Parker was killed in the bathroom. The steam was thick, and normally, the water droplets would slowly gather and flow down, making the writing fuzzy. But I remember the photos from that year didn't show that."
After Yan Su finished speaking, the officers present were taken aback, and although the students appeared calm, they unconsciously stiffened their backs.
"As for the day Lola died, you all searched outside for 15 minutes before returning to the car. By then, the heat inside had dissipated. You returned for a very short time, so how could there be fog on the glass? Writing on the outside of the car window with your hand? The rain had been falling all day and would have washed away the writing immediately."
The classroom, filled with a dozen people, fell silent, not a single sound to be heard.
"I think the original writing on the glass was made with a more permanent method. For example, with a thin layer of transparent wax."
Zhen Ai was taken aback.
Indeed, wax would allow water to naturally drain without being washed away.
Several students maintained their facade of calm, remaining silent.
Jones, however, suddenly realized, slapping his forehead: "Back then, a forensic guy mentioned something odd about the case, saying there were traces of unformed wax on the glass. I thought it was naturally there. Turns out, you all scraped it off."
Zhen Ai was speechless. The details of the case are often the most crucial. If Yan Su hadn't relied on testimony to deduce back then but had engaged more directly, the secrets the students were hiding would have been uncovered long ago.
Otherwise, another person wouldn't have died today.
But as Yan Su analyzed further, although the students' faces changed, they still stubbornly remained silent.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Tony gritted his teeth and said, "No! We didn't; maybe the killer changed the message. Besides, you have no evidence."
This statement hit the mark, and the others quickly raised their heads to agree: "We didn't."
"Good psychological resilience; I appreciate that." Yan Su nodded and found a chair to sit opposite them, crossing his long legs and speaking casually, "Before we officially begin, let me tell you two facts.
First, I'm a behavioral analysis expert. I can tell whether what you say is true or false based on your tone, pauses, eyebrow movements, eye expressions, mouth corners, cheek movements, finger and shoulder shifts, and a series of details.
Second, I'm a cryptographic analyst, and so far, I haven't encountered any text or patterns I can't understand. So," he shook his phone, "how long do you think it will take me to understand this sentence?"
The students looked at Yan Su with caution and suspicion. After his statement, they all froze—no blinking, no trembling hands, not even a hair moving.
Daisy mustered her courage and shouted, "Instead of observing us here, why don't you go find the real killer?"
Yan Su replied blandly, "Grown two years, but your intelligence is still stagnant. The killer? Aren't they right among you?" As he spoke, he reached out his left hand to the officer taking notes, who immediately handed over the notebook.
Qi Mo asked, "What… what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to act out a movie with you called 'Nowhere to Hide.'" Yan Su opened the notebook and added, "The movie duration will not exceed half an hour."
The students unconsciously straightened their backs.
The surrounding officers all held their breath.
Zhen Ai knew that step by step, Yan Su was quietly breaking their will.
Yan Su looked slowly at the quiet night; in this patch of light, time stretched out to an extreme. An invisible pressure began to weigh down on the students.
"Let's start with… Kerry." Yan Su raised his eyes, and upon hearing his name, Kerry instinctively gritted his teeth, which didn't escape Yan Su's attention.
Unhurriedly, he said, "According to the records, you worked at your new company from one to five-thirty this afternoon, with an employee ID."
Kerry replied, "Yes."
Yan Su looked at him, smiling: "Very good, no lies."
This comment made Kerry even more nervous. Yan Su no longer needed to glance at the paper but stared directly at him, quickly moving to the next question: "From five-thirty to seven-thirty, you returned home to wash up and have dinner alone."
"Yes."
"Lying." Yan Su ignored Kerry's slightly panicked expression and asked, "From seven-thirty until the incident, you were at the cinema watching a movie?"
"Yes."
"Not lying." Yan Su's words made Kerry freeze again. How did he know everything?
While Kerry was still dazed, Yan Su said casually, "But I bet you have a movie ticket on you, yet you can't remember the movie's content."
Kerry turned pale, unable to say a word.
A nearby officer handed over a movie ticket, which Kerry had used as an alibi.
The other students had been watching Kerry produce it, and now seeing his pale face, they realized he truly didn't remember the content. Suddenly, their glances at Yan Su were filled with wariness and panic.
"Not remembering the content is fine." Yan Su said lightly, "But you should remember if anyone hurt you today, right?"
Kerry was bewildered, confused: "No!"
"Hmm, good." Yan Su nodded, "Then can you explain the red-gray injury on the web of your right hand?"
Kerry jolted, quickly covering his hand, mumbling, "Burn, burn injury."
Zhen Ai and Eva had already looked over; it was a bit red but mostly grayish-white. That wasn't a burn; it was frostbite. Frostbite in spring?
After this round, all the students turned pale, each feeling like they were facing a formidable enemy.
Yan Su stared at Kerry for a while, surprisingly not pressing further, instead leaning back in his chair and saying淡淡道,"Next, who will go first?"
Zhen Ai noticed the arrogance in his tone and couldn't help but smile knowingly, huff, they're still too young to play with Yan Su!