Chapter 23: The Corpse-Cooking Case

South Street is a long thoroughfare composed of snack stalls, fruit and vegetable vendors, and various makeshift structures. From end to end, it spans only about five hundred meters, yet it is densely packed with nearly two or three hundred shops.

It is morning, and those who have finished breakfast or are heading out to grab some are spilling out of their homes, wandering toward the market. Everyone is hoping to find fresh, delicious produce to bring home for the family to enjoy in the evening.

A young woman leads a child by the hand, picking out apples, while an elderly person leans on a cane, shuffling slowly along the bluestone path beneath the ornate archway. Merchants enthusiastically place their produce on scales, calling out to customers that their goods are fresh today—though, of course, their goods are "fresh" every single day.

A vendor selling chicken noodle soup and dumplings hands a bowl to a customer, who carries it carefully to a makeshift wooden table. The vendor smiles and says, "Take your time eating. You can ask for more noodles if you’re still hungry." He adds, "The first refill is free."

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman points at the man next to her and shouts, "You old geezer! Did you just touch me?"

"I only brushed against you! It was my shoulder!" the man immediately retorts.

The woman points directly at his nose. "You old pervert, apologize!"

"Don't start acting crazy with me, don't try to bully me!" The man slaps her hand away, begins shoving her, and curses in a fit of shame-induced rage.

As the two of them fight, they drift closer to the noodle shop, trading barbs, neither willing to back down. Passersby gather around, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of gossip.

The noodle shop owner steps forward, intending to intervene and stop them from disrupting his business. Unfortunately, neither party listens; instead, in the midst of their shoving and hair-pulling, they accidentally knock into the shop owner.

The shop owner is a burly, stout man wearing a white undershirt and a black apron, typical of a cook. He steps in and separates them. "If you want to fight, take it outside. Don't do it at my doorway. Are you looking for a beating this early in the morning?"

Faced with the burly man’s authority, the two fall silent. However, the older man, clearly still feeling resentful, waits for the woman to settle down before giving her a shove on the shoulder, trying to regain the face he lost when she grabbed his face.

The middle-aged woman, slightly stout, loses her balance and crashes into the wooden folding table behind her. The bowl of noodle soup on top spills directly onto the ground. The boiling, greasy broth splashes onto her foot, and the scorching, sticky sensation makes her face turn red with rage.

"You old, undying turtle!" She lunges at him, reaching out to claw at his face.

But before she can make a move, a series of screams erupts from the crowd. Following the direction of the onlookers' gazes, the woman looks down at her feet, and her complexion instantly turns deathly pale.

...

"This is a high-profile case with a malicious impact. It happened in a busy market area, and the Chief wants it solved as soon as possible," Qin Jiang says, leading a man and a woman behind him with a solemn expression.

The young man presses his lips together. "According to the reporter, only a portion of the remains were left at the scene; the rest is missing."

"It's a body-dumping case. We don't know the motive yet. Let's see the scene," Qin Jiang says, pulling open the car door.

The three of them board the vehicle and head to South Street.

Beneath the five-meter-high archway, the area is already packed solid. Watching the spectacle is in the nature of the people of Zhongzhou; even in the face of something horrifying, they want to catch a few words to satisfy their curiosity.

Ye Sangsang follows Qin Jiang and the other male detective into the scene. Several police officers from the local station have set up a cordon and are ordering the crowd to keep their distance.

"Major Crimes Unit," Ye Sangsang says, displaying her badge as she lifts the yellow tape and walks inside.

The breakfast shop is already crowded. Joining the three of them are forensics officers, members of the trace evidence unit, and four officers from the local station.

Qin Jiang, accustomed to the chatter of the onlookers, leads the two of them straight into the kitchen. Putting on gloves, he gazes at the human bones remaining in the chicken soup pot, along with fingers, still attached to bits of skin, neatly arranged on the side.

Ye Sangsang puts on her gloves and cap, stepping forward to help organize the bones.

Qin Jiang looks up and asks, "Where are the reporter and the shop owner?"

In many murder cases, the reporter is the prime suspect, so upon arriving at the scene, the police must locate them immediately. This case is special; both the reporter and the owner need to be questioned.

The local officer gestures to the two people standing in the corner inside the cordon. Soon, the middle-aged woman and the shop owner walk over. The woman deliberately keeps her distance from the shop owner, her face pale—she is clearly terrified. Indeed, anyone would feel unsettled after having human fingers brush against their body.

"Shen Yu, you handle the questioning," Qin Jiang assigns the task to Ye Sangsang.

Ye Sangsang, looking down at the laid-out bones, is caught off guard by the instruction. She simply says, "Understood," and stands up to question them. She picks up her notebook and leads them to the side to avoid disrupting the evidence collection.

Once they are positioned, she asks the middle-aged woman first, "How did you discover the scene?"

The woman begins by explaining how she was touched and how unreasonable the old man was.

"Stick to the point. You can tell the local officers about the rest later; they will help mediate. Specifically, you might want to mention that a shoulder cannot reach your waist unless he is a dwarf," Ye Sangsang suggests softly.

The woman’s eyes light up with sudden realization. *Police officers really are sharp; they hit the nail on the head!*

Looking at the composed Ye Sangsang, she scratches her head. "It was just that the old man shoved me, and I lost my balance and knocked over the bowls in the shop. I looked down and saw a human finger lying on my foot. I was scared to death. Later, when everyone discussed it, we agreed it was a human finger, and out of fear, we called the police."

The woman exhales, patting her chest, still clearly shaken.

To have this happen early in the morning means she will be anxious for days to come. Fortunately, she hadn't eaten out much lately, otherwise, she would feel even worse. The people who had been eating breakfast there earlier have all turned pale and are vomiting; they feel like they won't be able to eat any meat for the next three days.

Once Ye Sangsang confirms she has enough information, she turns to the noodle shop owner. "When you opened the shop this morning, didn't you notice anything unusual? Or did you not taste your food?"

Generally, when starting business in the morning, one should check the soup base. Some shops even boil the base fresh in the morning or taste it before opening.

"No, no," the shop owner says. He is flanked by two officers and is handcuffed, but upon hearing Ye Sangsang’s question, he waves his hands frantically in denial. Shivering, he stammers, "I... I usually use one pot of chicken soup for two days. I boiled it yesterday and didn't check it today. Also... the chicken wasn't very fresh, so I didn't taste it... My courage only goes as far as that."

"As for murder, I really wouldn't dare! There's no reason for me to ruin my own business! My whole family relies on this to live!"

Ye Sangsang continues to ask about his whereabouts over the past few days, his family, any suspicious people near the shop recently, and who has the keys. If it wasn't the shop owner, then someone else must have placed the remains inside. Knowing who has keys and identifying suspicious characters helps narrow down the scope of the investigation. If the perpetrator's fingerprints are found, there is a chance of identifying them, as those capable of murder and dismemberment usually have a criminal record.

The shop owner spills everything he knows like beans from a bamboo tube. Ye Sangsang records the key points, her expression stoic and solemn.

While such a young detective might not look authoritative, her demeanor is such that anyone facing her feels an involuntary pressure, leaving them with no room for ulterior motives.

* [Sister Sang looks sweet, but she's actually quite cool and elegant.]
* [I feel like Sister Sang has a murderous aura.]
* [Sister Sang is so cool, I love her!]

The earlier comments were conservative praise, but the later ones quickly turned into declarations of affection. Simple comments, simple enjoyment.

After finishing the questioning, Ye Sangsang closes her notebook and walks to the side of the shop.

The shop is part of a subdivided storefront. To save space, merchants extend their area outward to set up tables or stalls. Otherwise, those few square meters wouldn't be enough to run a shop. The six-square-meter space holds the stove, kitchenware, and a seasoning station.

She walks to the rolling metal door and looks at the lock above. It is a simple mechanical key lock; even without a key, it could be easily pried open. She examines it carefully and notices some burrs on the lock clasp; the marks are fresh.

It seems someone pried the lock open to plant the body parts. It feels more like a deliberate attempt to attract attention; the killer likely has a desire to show off or possesses a narcissistic personality.

She looks at the flow of people around, wondering if she can find any witnesses. If someone saw the killer, it would be a huge help to the case.

Ye Sangsang turns her back to the shop and scans the surroundings. The buildings from the early 2000s are not tall; the highest around are only three stories. The area is too noisy for comfortable living, so most are rented out as storage or to vendors.

Her gaze lands on an open curtain in a two-story building across the way. The curtain sways slightly—whether from the wind or someone passing by, she isn't sure. She doesn't pay it much mind and continues to observe other things.

However, when she glances back, she clearly sees a figure ducking away. This behavior immediately makes Ye Sangsang suspicious.

She turns around, picks up a small mirror that Shen Yu likes to keep in her coat pocket, and, keeping her back to the window, uses the mirror to reflect the scene. A moment later, a face appears by the window, peeking furtively at the scene with shifty eyes.

Ye Sangsang taps her colleague and gives a subtle gesture, signaling him to look in that direction. Her colleague, Zheng He, is twenty-eight years old. He hadn't been able to squeeze into the scene earlier and had been listening from the outside.

Upon hearing Ye Sangsang, he glances over as if by accident. As a veteran of six or seven years, it isn't difficult for him to do so without being noticed. Soon, Zheng He confirms Ye Sangsang's suspicion: the person on the second floor across the street is acting strangely.

Ye Sangsang nods. A killer with a narcissistic personality or a desire to show off has an 80% chance of returning to the scene of the crime. They want to savor their "work" and re-experience that thrill. Besides that, the person could also be a witness.

Thinking of this, Ye Sangsang recalls something. She used to not understand why people in reality were advised against buying "murder houses," even if they were very cheap. Now she understands: because there is a very high probability that a murderer will return to the scene to reignite their excitement, making it highly likely they will strike again.