Chapter 80: Medicine

“The logic of reasoning is connected, but the chain of evidence cannot be completed.”

Lin Feng wiped the writing off the whiteboard after taking a photo.

“Then go find the evidence! Weren’t we supposed to intercept Yan Miao?”

Qin Qing felt like she and Lin Feng were playing a game of “turtle soup.” In this game, someone suddenly comes alive, someone suddenly dies. You rely on imagination to verify each clue and uncover the “soup base.” Unfortunately, their first clue had already failed verification.

Yan Miao attended an affiliated primary school of a key middle school in the city. When they arrived, school hadn’t let out yet, and the street was already packed with cars waiting to pick up children.

Using a long list of license plates from their data, they located one of the vehicles parked in front of a fried chicken shop. They ordered a portion of fried chicken and waited inside, keeping watch.

Sipping his cola, Lin Feng watched Qin Qing munch on fried chicken. “Weren’t you just feeling pretty tense? How can you eat like that?”

Qin Qing didn’t even look up from her food. “That’s exactly why I need to eat something to relax.”

No wonder this fried chicken shop dared to open right by a primary school, a hotspot for fried chicken connoisseurs. It was worth licking your fingers after eating. The crust was crispy and fragrant, the meat tender and juicy.

Lin Feng coughed, tapped the table, and whispered, “They’re here.”

Following his gaze, Qin Qing saw a middle-aged man in a navy-blue jacket leading Yan Miao toward the car, carrying her schoolbag. Opening Yan Miao’s System Panel, Qin Qing quickly scrolled through but found no useful information.

She wiped her hands swiftly, handed the unfinished fried chicken box to Lin Feng to hold, and said, “Let’s go. They’re about to get in the car.”

She rushed out, rummaging through her bag for her notebook. Moving too quickly, she caught the driver’s wary glance.

Holding the fried chicken box, Lin Feng flashed a goofy grin at the driver before catching up with Qin Qing.

Lin Feng drove, tailing the car, while Qin Qing rapidly scanned the logs in her notebook for the information she needed. The more she read, the deeper her frown became.

Lin Feng clicked his tongue. “That guy’s pretty alert. He might’ve already noticed we’re following him.”

Qin Qing closed her notebook. “No need to keep tailing.”

“Huh?” Though he sounded questioning, Lin Feng turned the steering wheel at the next intersection, veering into a different lane from the Yan family’s car.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Lin Feng asked, “Figured it out? What’s the situation?”

Qin Qing’s shoulders relaxed as she let out a frustrated sigh. “Yan Miao definitely hasn’t had any surgery.”

Lin Feng stayed silent, waiting for her conclusion.

Qin Qing continued, “But there’s no trace of Mystic Arts on Yan Miao either.”

“What? Really none?”

“Really none!”

“Then how did she recover?”

It wasn’t so much a question as Lin Feng muttering to himself. He rested one hand on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping rhythmically. “I’ve been brainstorming as far as life-transference, and it’s still not Mystic Arts.”

“You do remember you’re a cop, right?”

“Hey, ever since I met you, I’ve been watching a ton of fantasy movies during my downtime. There was this Hong Kong drama about an old man with a terminal illness who found twelve human pillars for life-transference. Gave me chills.” He muttered again, “No surgery, no Mystic Arts—could it really be a medical miracle?”

Qin Qing said, “Maybe she took some kind of miracle drug.”

“A drug that brings people back from the brink of death? On the market?” Lin Feng retorted with a hint of sarcasm. “Which company? Tell me, and I’ll rally my friends and family to buy their stock.”

Yeah, how could there be such a miracle drug?

Yet, that’s exactly what Qin Qing saw in Yan Miao’s System Panel. By cross-referencing Yan Xianghua and his wife’s logs using the Character Relationship Map, Qin Qing could piece together part of the truth.

But it only plunged her into deeper confusion.

Lin Feng’s phone pinged. He glanced at it.

“Yan Xianghua booked a flight back to Shanyu City tonight.”

“You thinking…?”

Lin Feng grinned. “Let’s go poke around. Maybe we’ll find some new clues.”

So far, there was no evidence proving Yan Xianghua had any criminal involvement, so they followed protocol and scheduled a visit through his company. With their police credentials, Yan’s assistant arranged for them to squeeze into a twenty-minute slot before Yan Xianghua’s lunch the next day.

The meeting took place in Yan Xianghua’s office, decked out in the typical lavish style of a big-shot CEO. On his desk sat a solo photo of Yan Miao and a family portrait.

Qin Qing had thought such photo displays in offices only happened in Hong Kong dramas, but apparently, some people in the mainland had the same habit.

Yan Xianghua, in his forties, wore glasses and had upright, approachable features. He spoke with a smile, exuding a warm and hearty demeanor.

“Officers, I’m not sure how I can assist, but I’ll do my utmost if I can help in any way.”

Lin Feng didn’t correct him that there weren’t two officers present. He started chatting casually with Yan Xianghua.

Qin Qing sat beside Lin Feng, her notebook open on her lap, pretending to take notes. In reality, she was digging into Yan Xianghua’s detailed information. The data from the Character Relationship Map wasn’t detailed or comprehensive enough.

After some roundabout small talk, Lin Feng finally got to the point. “I heard your daughter hasn’t been in good health. How’s she doing recently?”

Qin Qing noticed Yan Xianghua subtly shift his feet and fiddle with the ring on his finger.

“Officer Lin, you’re well-informed. Why don’t you just say what you want to ask?”

“Nothing much. We’re investigating some medical-related cases and came across some information during our review…”

Lin Feng carefully worded his response, bringing up Yan Miao.

Yan Xianghua said, “I’m afraid I can’t help much. My daughter was indeed unwell before. She was born premature with some congenital issues. When she was young, she was misdiagnosed with a heart condition and treated for it, but it turned out that wasn’t the case at all. Later, we switched doctors and treatment approaches, and she got better.”

He rambled on, speaking much more than before. That wasn’t normal. People often become talkative when they’re trying to hide something important in their words.

Yan Xianghua continued, “Officers, you really should look into those incompetent doctors. They waste people’s treatment time. As parents, we always want the best for our kids. If they’re sick, we’d sell everything to cure them. But if they’re not sick and someone fabricates illnesses to scam money, that’s just exploiting honest folks. We need law enforcement to stand up for us.”

He reached for a bottle of water on the desk and took a small sip. His assistant, standing nearby, chimed in with a troubled expression. “Mr. Yan, you have a lunch meeting with Mr. Chen from Guanghua. The roads are a bit congested, so we should leave soon to make it on time.”

Yan Xianghua looked surprised. “Wow, we got carried away talking, and time just slipped by. If there’s nothing else, officers, I need to head to my next appointment. My apologies.”

He instructed his assistant, “Call Lakeview No. 1 next door and arrange lunch for the officers in my private room.”

With that, he stood to leave.

Lin Feng glanced at Qin Qing.

Qin Qing called out, “Mr. Yan.”

Yan Xianghua turned with a smile. “Please, officers, don’t stand on ceremony. Our work is tough, and today’s timing is unfortunate—I can’t stay longer. Consider this a small gesture of apology.”

His words were polite, but his actions were brisk.

Qin Qing said, “When the world is turbid, calamity arises; when the way is followed, the law emerges.”

Yan Xianghua froze, turning to stare at Qin Qing.

Qin Qing continued, “Mr. Yan, you’re familiar with those words, aren’t you?”

Yan Xianghua gripped his sleeve tightly, his smile gone. “How do you know that? Are you really police?”

“Of course we are. I showed you my badge earlier.”

Yan Xianghua’s reaction told Lin Feng they had regained the upper hand. He gestured toward the sofa across from them, acting as if he owned the place. “Have a seat, Mr. Yan. Let’s talk.”

Yan Xianghua tilted his head toward his assistant. “Wait outside.”

The assistant closed the door behind them, and Yan Xianghua personally locked it, took off his jacket, and sat back down.

Unlike his earlier relaxed host demeanor, he now leaned forward, hands clasped together in front of him, resting on his thighs. His gaze shifted between Qin Qing and Lin Feng, but he said nothing.

Qin Qing decided to take the initiative.

“Mr. Yan, haven’t you ever wondered why someone on the brink of death could so easily extend their life, even recover to the point of seeming perfectly healthy?”

With Lin Feng present, Qin Qing deliberately kept her references to the System Panel vague.

Yan Xianghua stopped looking at Lin Feng, his eyes locking onto Qin Qing.

Still, he remained silent.

Qin Qing pressed on. “As a businessman, Mr. Yan, you should know there’s no such thing as luck that comes from nothing.”

“I paid for it!”

Qin Qing said calmly, “Money can’t buy life. Otherwise, every billionaire in the world would live to a hundred or a thousand years.”

Yan Xianghua’s face darkened. “What are you getting at?”

Qin Qing decided to borrow Lin Feng’s wild theory to shake things up. “But when money lands in certain hands, it might be used to borrow a life, to transfer longevity to someone on the verge of death.”

Yan Xianghua gasped. “You’re saying… that’s impossible!”

His mind flashed back to last year, the most desperate time of his life. In September, Yan Xianghua had received his daughter’s third critical condition notice. Instinctively, he reached for a cigarette but found a business card in his bag instead—a unfamiliar card, slipped in by someone, somewhere, at some point.

He asked his assistant and wife, the only people with access to his clothes, but neither knew anything about it.

A business card wasn’t unusual. As an investor, he frequently received cards from people seeking investments. Normally, it wouldn’t have warranted his attention during his daughter’s crisis. But he didn’t throw it away because of the words printed on it: *Fulfill the wishes you desire.*

Below that was a website URL.

On the back, in the center, five stars formed an irregular pattern. Beneath them, in gold-embossed text, were the words: *When the world is turbid, calamity arises; when the way is followed, the law emerges.*

Yan Xianghua had rubbed the card so often that he remembered every detail vividly.

The phrase *Fulfill the wishes you desire* became a haunting obsession, growing stronger as he watched his daughter weaken. Clutching at straws, Yan Xianghua logged into the website from the card.

It opened to a temporary chat. The other party seemed to know who he was, immediately offering a miracle drug to treat his daughter for 6 million, guaranteed effective for one year. Payment upfront, then the drug.

Perhaps blinded by the grief of nearly losing his daughter, Yan Xianghua agreed to the deal in a daze. He followed their instructions, preparing the cash and placing it at a designated spot.

He had someone watch the location, but the lookout reported no one approached. After hours of waiting, when they checked the bag, the money was gone—taken without a trace.

Yan Xianghua lost the money and received no drug. When he tried accessing the website again, it was gone.

He assumed he’d been scammed.

At the time, the betrayal barely registered—his mind was consumed with his daughter. Until, once again, he found something in his coat pocket that didn’t belong to him.

A small white paper bag, the size of a cigarette pack, containing a single pill and a note. The note stated the pill was effective for three months, with the remaining nine months’ worth to be delivered before the previous dose expired.

It also explicitly demanded he keep the drug’s source confidential.

By then, his daughter Yan Miao’s face had turned ashen. Yan Xianghua, desperate, fed her the pill despite his wife’s bewildered look. To his astonishment, it bought Yan Miao another breath.

Convinced of the pill’s effectiveness, he insisted on discharging Yan Miao from the hospital against the doctors’ objections. After leaving, her condition steadily improved.

A month later, a checkup showed no abnormalities.

Over the next year, more pills arrived sporadically. Their effective periods varied—some lasted six months, others as little as fifteen days. The drugs always appeared inexplicably, turning up in their handbags, briefcases, or even coat pockets after he or his wife returned from an outing.