Chapter 79: Deduction

Cheng Ling didn’t seem to expect Qin Qing to address him directly. He froze for a moment before hurriedly standing up. “Greetings, Daoist.”

His face looked a bit fuller, but the oversized Taoist robe still hung loosely on him. Yet, his calm demeanor gave him the air of an ascetic Taoist practitioner.

Qin Qing: “Something on your mind?”

“I haven’t yet thanked you in person for saving my life. I’m truly ashamed.”

Tch… why did his manner of speaking sound so much like Daoist Wuwang?

He didn’t talk like this before.

Qin Qing brushed it off with a laugh. “Daoist Wuwang’s medical skills are indeed remarkable, and his Taoist methods are impressive. You got lucky.”

Cheng Ling: “I still need to express my gratitude. May I know your Taoist title?”

“Taoist title? I’m not a Daoist yet.”

Cheng Ling looked surprised.

“Hey, don’t just call anyone in a Taoist robe a Daoist. You’re wearing one yourself.” Qin Qing pulled a Taoist classic textbook from her backpack. “See this? I’m here to study.”

So, the whole life-saving gratitude thing? Nothing to do with her.

Qin Qing figured that should settle it.

“Alright, then I won’t call you Daoist.” Cheng Ling pulled a blue-covered book from his sleeve. “I’ll call you classmate instead.”

“I’ve recently started studying as well. I’ve only scratched the surface, but I already feel greatly enlightened. Taoist classics are truly profound.”

Qin Qing: “…”

Cheng Ling: “I’ve been assigned to work at the temple’s shop. When there are no customers, I read daily—it clears the mind and purifies the heart.”

“Haha, nice, nice. Study hard, ascend tomorrow?”

Cheng Ling gave a light chuckle.

Then he added, “I’m still new to the Taoist path and have many questions. Would it be possible to consult and discuss with you when you’re free, classmate?”

Qin Qing: “…”

Did he have to be so studious? Graduated, came to a Taoist temple, and still couldn’t escape study groups?

No way she’d agree to that.

“No, no, I’m a terrible student. I can’t even recite the scriptures.”

Cheng Ling tucked the book back into his sleeve, and Qin Qing let out a sigh of relief.

But then he said, “About my illness… Daoist Wuwang instructed that it be treated in stages. I was wondering about the next phase…”

Seriously, he still hadn’t dropped that topic?

“I don’t know anything about medicine. You should talk to Daoist Wuwang. I’m off—wishing you a speedy ascension.”

Leaving the cafeteria, her small backpack hung on the bouncy Mumu, who instantly seemed much steadier.

Qin Qing found the earlier scene amusing, wishing she could’ve played the part of a slacker student in front of Cheng Ling.

Memorizing texts was indeed tough, though.

Meeting Cheng Ling gave her an idea, but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Hurrying home with Mumu, she flopped onto the sofa, holding a book she was studying. Opening the System Panel, she made a wish: “Implant the knowledge from this book into my mind.”

Moments later, text appeared on the System Panel.

It was actually possible!

She examined the System Panel’s contents closely.

[Brain Storage: One copy of *Tongxuan True Scripture*]

[Merit Cost: 100 points per 10,000 words. This book totals 46,000 words, requiring 460 points. Proceed with exchange?]

No way, that’s so expensive!

Then she noticed smaller text below.

[Brain Storage Notes]

1. Information storage does not equate to increased wisdom. After storage, continue exploring how to apply knowledge to solve practical problems.

2. Brain storage involves direct mental interference, which may cause side effects including but not limited to memory confusion, personality changes, and diminished analytical or critical thinking abilities…

3. In case of an unexpected cradle failure, stored information may be lost, corrupted, or incomplete. Use with caution.

“…”

Was this the System Panel’s way of indirectly refusing her attempt to cheat at studying?

Guess she’d have to memorize the old-fashioned way.

Qin Qing let her head hang off the sofa, letting the blood rush to clear her mind.

Her phone, which had fallen under the sofa, started ringing.

She reached for it twice but couldn’t grab it, only pushing it further in.

Mumu, who was sprawled on the carpet watching cartoons, shook its fur, stood up, and pawed under the sofa a few times, retrieving the phone.

She patted Mumu’s dog head in praise.

The ringing had stopped, and a message popped up.

Lin Feng: I had someone look into the wealthy businessman Yan Xianghua, and we’ve got results. When are you coming to check it out?

Qin Qing sat up abruptly.

She replied: Heading over now!

At the police station, Lin Feng handed her a thick stack of printed documents.

He slapped the pile. “Your suspicions weren’t baseless. This guy is indeed suspicious.”

Qin Qing took the still-warm documents from him, flipping through them as he explained.

“Yan Xianghua made his fortune in electronic components and now mainly deals in various investments. He’s a major taxpayer. On the surface, there’s nothing illegal about his company or personal affairs.”

Qin Qing: “And in reality?”

“In reality, businessmen always have some shady dealings, just not enough to warrant criminal investigation.”

“So what’s the suspicious part?”

Lin Feng pulled a few pages from the bottom of the stack and handed them to her.

“Yan Xianghua’s daughter does have a heart condition. In fact, because of it, he paused his investment projects for two years, only resuming nine months ago. His daughter, Yan Miao, received three critical condition notices at Hualin Hospital last September. Despite the hospital’s objections, Yan Xianghua insisted on transferring her.

“However, according to the information we have, after leaving Hualin Hospital, Yan Miao didn’t go to any other hospital—she was taken straight home.

“In October last year, Yan Xianghua brought his daughter to Renke Private Hospital for a check-up but didn’t stay long. After that, she went there for check-ups every three months.

“Yan Miao officially appeared healthy in public in April this year, when she was a flower girl at a friend’s wedding.”

Qin Qing: “So where did she have her surgery?”

Lin Feng held up one finger. “That’s the first suspicious point. Renke Hospital has no record of her surgery, and neither do any other hospitals we checked. It’s certain that Yan Xianghua and his daughter never left the country—or even the province. The person who investigated also obtained Yan Miao’s medical reports, which make no mention of her ever having heart surgery.”

Qin Qing’s heart raced.

Critical condition, no medical treatment, hospital visits in a short time, and fully recovered.

How similar to Cheng Ling’s experience.

Suppressing her excitement, she asked, “You said that’s the first suspicious point. Are there others?”

Lin Feng pulled out another sheet and explained, “On September 17 last year, right around the time Yan Miao was discharged, Yan Xianghua withdrew 6 million from his personal account in cash, destination unknown.”

“Cash?”

“Yes, cash. With his daughter on the brink of death, what was he doing withdrawing such a huge sum? Preparing for a funeral wouldn’t require cash. Unless that money was meant to save Yan Miao.”

Qin Qing: “It’s a bit coincidental, but it’s a stretch to say the money’s definitely tied to her illness.”

Lin Feng pointed to the paper in her hand. “Flip to the next page.”

It was another person’s financial transaction record.

“Who’s this?”

“This is Yan Xianghua’s wife, Yan Miao’s mother. On September 15 this year, she withdrew 6 million in cash, destination unknown. That’s just two days apart from when Yan Xianghua withdrew his cash last year.” Lin Feng handed her another page from Renke Hospital’s records. “And on September 30 this year, Yan Miao went for another check-up at Renke Hospital, breaking the three-month routine.”

Qin Qing remained calm on the surface, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t treat this like Lin Feng, who saw it as just an intriguing case.

Lin Feng: “Any thoughts after looking at this?”

Qin Qing shook her head.

She forced a smile. “I’m not great at deductions. A fate master’s specialty is reading real people to find information.” She asked, “What about you? Got any leads?”

“I initially suspected Yan Xianghua was involved in black-market organ trafficking, but there’s no trace of Yan Miao having had surgery.”

At this point, Qin Qing almost wished this was just a straightforward criminal case.

“Could it be a surgeon performing an off-the-books operation?”

“Whoa.” Lin Feng was taken aback by her imagination. “A major surgery like that, done off the books?”

Qin Qing was growing impatient. “Is it or isn’t it? Let’s confirm it. Can you arrange for me to meet Yan Xianghua?”

“That’s tricky right now. Flight records show he’s not in Shanyu City at the moment.”

“What about Yan Miao? She’s young, probably still in school, right? Which elementary school is she at?” Qin Qing glanced at the time. “It’s two o’clock—elementary schools haven’t dismissed yet. We could probably catch her at the school gate.”

Lin Feng spun his chair, eyeing her with a probing look.

“Qin, something’s off about you,” he said with certainty.

Qin Qing met his gaze but stayed silent.

Lin Feng continued, “You seem overly invested in this case. Even with past criminal cases where we had solid evidence, you were never this proactive during investigations. This case has zero evidence so far, and you…”

He paused, then asked directly, “What exactly are you trying to find out? What does this case have to do with you?”

His bluntness actually put Qin Qing at ease. After all their time working together, this police captain had built up some trust in her—enough to share a bit of camaraderie.

Qin Qing thought for a moment and explained in a way Lin Feng could understand. “I won’t hide it from you—this whole thing feels strange. I suspect it might be the work of another fate master.”

“Whoa.”

That was definitely not the answer Lin Feng expected.

He grew even more intrigued, even a bit excited.

“Another fate master? Someone from your sect?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that the methods seem somewhat similar to a certain faction.”

Qin Qing said exasperatedly, “I’m only suspicious, not certain. Even if it’s true, who knows if they’re friend or foe, or what their intentions are? Don’t act like some pie’s about to fall from the sky. They might even interfere with your investigation.”

Lin Feng: “Don’t fate masters take an oath when they start, swearing to accumulate good deeds and act virtuously for life? Could they really interfere with a case?”

Qin Qing rolled her eyes.

“When did you, with your busy squad, find time to watch those cheesy, brainless dramas?”

“So it’s not like that?” Lin Feng rubbed the new stubble on his chin. “Now that you mention it, I have a thought. Could those two sudden-death cases we looked at before—the ones that were hastily closed—be related to your line of work?”

“How so?”

Lin Feng seemed to have found a new thread in a tangled mess, his excitement rising.

He pulled over a whiteboard and quickly wrote two terms: Sudden Death Cases, Yan Miao Incident.

He drew a few lines, creating a rough table.

In it, he listed the similarities between the two seemingly unrelated cases.

Both were steeped in strangeness, yet not a single piece of useful direct evidence could be found.