Chapter 698: The Moving Corpse

“This guy’s intestines are full of nothing but crap,” said the technician responsible for the X-ray examination half an hour later.

“Watch your language,” Peng Siyue reminded.

Xin Bai lay on the X-ray table, looking both puzzled and disappointed. He said, “Take another look. Don’t I need to drink that barium stuff?”

“Barium meals are for highlighting non-metal objects. All it will do is make the crap in your intestines more visible,” Chen Shi replied. “Did that person really make you swallow magnets?”

“Yes… Every time I eat, my stomach hurts,” Xin Bai said, rubbing his belly.

Lin Qiupu gestured for Lin Dongxue and Chen Shi to step outside. He said, “Don’t waste time with this lunatic. Did you notice his injuries are all scratches and whip marks? If someone was beating him, there would be signs of punches and kicks. Those injuries are self-inflicted. This guy is mentally ill!”

“But the whip marks on his back…” Lin Dongxue started.

“The whip marks are all around the edge of his back and are quite scattered. People with sadomasochistic tendencies can inflict such wounds on themselves. Those marks are consistent with self-infliction,” Chen Shi said, glancing at Lin Qiupu. “I don’t entirely agree with your view. Just theorizing. These injuries are suspicious, but we can’t rule out the existence of this ‘master.'”

“I’ve seen many people pretending to be crazy. Not every arrested person confesses their crimes. Some throw out the idea of accomplices right before going to court,” Lin Qiupu said.

“Xin Bai has no strong motive to kill that content creator. His life seems stable, with a good income and freedom. Someone going mad requires an external trigger. I believe he’s been under prolonged stress. Also, as one of his readers, I noticed his work has deteriorated since the beginning of the year—logic errors, inconsistencies. He claims quitting smoking caused this, but I’ve quit smoking too. It’s not that dramatic. Something must have happened in his life, likely an ‘uninvited guest,'” Chen Shi said.

Lin Qiupu remained skeptical. “Your theories lack persuasiveness. You tend to overcomplicate simple matters. For example…”

“Give me an example of when I overcomplicated things!” Chen Shi challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Lin Qiupu changed the subject. “You’re not a cop. Many cases are dangerous but not always complicated. Take the recent murder I solved: a girl brought some thugs to get her father’s treasured gems. The old man refused, and one thug decapitated him. Gruesome, but straightforward. We caught the culprit by following blood traces from the scene,” Lin Qiupu added defensively. “Of course, even simple cases require effort.”

“I can smell the complexity of a case. This one isn’t as simple as it looks. There’s more to it,” Chen Shi insisted.

“We’ll see,” Lin Qiupu said, walking away.

“Want to bet some money? Make it interesting,” Chen Shi called after him.

“No chance!” Lin Qiupu wasn’t falling for it.

“Captain Lin!” A policeman ran up. “We found where the suspect bought that notebook.”

Lin Qiupu turned and asked, “Shall we go?”

The notebook brand Xin Bai used had only one distributor in the city—a stationery supermarket. The police had questioned the shop owner, who couldn’t remember individual customers, and the surveillance footage was inconclusive. They had to search the surrounding area.

People usually don’t travel far for stationery.

Officer Xiao Dou spent the morning “studying” the notebook, driving himself nearly insane. He summarized the contents: thirteen murders, described in detail, often mentioning a bathroom with gold-patterned tiles, a window view of two willow trees, dark brown curtains, and a glaring glass chandelier. The police deduced that Xin Bai had a specific murder studio.

They asked around local neighborhoods, looking for these features. Suddenly, Lin Dongxue pointed, “Look, two willow trees!”

Behind the trees was a window with dark brown curtains. Excited, the team hurried upstairs.

At the apartment, Lin Qiupu prepared to pick the lock but paused, listening. “Someone’s inside!” he whispered.

They heard rhythmic tapping from within. Guns drawn, Lin Qiupu knocked. “Open up!”

No response.

The strange sound continued. Lin Qiupu picked the lock and gently pushed the door open. The officers followed him inside.

A foul stench hit them. They traced it to the bathroom, where the sliding door was shut, light shining through frosted glass, revealing a human shape. The rhythmic noise came from this “figure.”

Even Lin Qiupu was tense. He opened the door, and a swarm of tiny flies flew out. The bathroom had the gold-patterned tiles. It was spacious. A fat body lay there, its chest rising and falling, making the noise.

From the pale skin and large livor mortis patches, the person had been dead for some time, the body bloated. A wound in the chest let out gas, causing the body to lift slightly and make the rhythmic sound.

Lin Dongxue’s heart skipped a beat. “Turn the body over. This sound is driving me crazy,” Chen Shi said.

A policeman, wearing dishwashing gloves, struggled to turn the heavy body. Suddenly, there was a loud whistle as something shot from the wound and fell to the floor. The policeman jumped back against the wall in fear.

Everyone turned pale. They looked down and saw a severely corroded metal whistle. The killer had placed it in the wound to create this dramatic effect.

“Bastard!” Lin Qiupu cursed.