Shen Mian woke up to find two people in the room.
One was alive, the other dead.
The living man lay beside her on the pillow, breathing softly, completely naked.
The dead one was in the living room, sprawled on an expensive Persian carpet in a twisted, grotesque pose. A pool of thick, dark red blood, still not fully coagulated, spread from the back of his head.
"..."
Her temples throbbed as if being drilled by a rock drill.
Her brain, muddled from a hangover, was jolted awake like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head the moment she saw the scene in the living room.
Calm down.
Shen Mian, you're a forensic scientist.
She told herself, but her body trembled like a leaf in autumn wind.
She was naked, lying in bed with a stranger.
And the living room was a textbook crime scene.
And she was the only living witness.
No, there were two.
Shen Mian stiffly turned her head, her gaze fixed on the man's face beside her.
It was a face of striking, almost aggressive beauty. His high cheekbones, straight nose like a mountain ridge, and the sharp, sensuous line of his lips gave off an aura of aloofness even in sleep.
A top-tier bone structure.
As someone who dealt with bones every day, Shen Mian's mind inappropriately made this assessment.
Who was he?
Fragments of last night's memories flooded back—celebratory banquet, being forced to drink, dizziness, being helped into an elevator by someone...
And then?
Then everything went blank.
Until now, she was in the same room with this man and a corpse.
It was over.
Those two words were the epitaph of her forensic career and her entire life.
The crime scene was riddled with her fingerprints, her hair, her... all her biological traces.
She couldn't wash herself clean even if she jumped into the Yellow River.
Just as she was about to give up and wish for immediate death, the man beside her stirred.
He woke up.
A pair of pitch-black eyes opened, clear and sharp, like two ice-tempered surgical knives piercing straight into her soul.
Shen Mian's heart skipped a beat.
The man sat up, his smooth back muscles and waistline exposed without any cover. He didn't look at Shen Mian; his gaze calmly shifted to the living room.
His eyes seemed to be looking at an unremarkable landscape painting.
"Ruptured carotid artery, but not the primary cause of death."
He spoke, his voice like cold spring water dripping on rocks, devoid of any emotion, "The blunt force trauma to the back of the head is the cause. Time of death, approximately three to four hours ago."
Shen Mian's blood froze.
What... was he saying?
Why could he calmly analyze a corpse like this?
Shouldn't he be screaming or calling the police immediately?
The man finally turned his head, his gaze landing on her pale face, as if examining an interesting piece of evidence.
"Forensic scientist Shen."
He called out her identity.
Shen Mian's pupils constricted, a chill running up her spine.
He knew her!
"You..." Her throat was dry, unable to utter a word.
"Let me introduce myself," the man calmly got out of bed, naked, walked to the clothes rack, and picked up a high-quality white shirt, "My name is Qin Qiu."
Qin Qiu.
A completely unfamiliar name.
He dressed himself calmly, as if it were a normal morning, not a crime scene filled with danger.
Shen Mian's mind screamed.
Murderer!
Only a murderer could be so calm in front of his "work"!
She instinctively wrapped herself in the blanket, retreating to the head of the bed, every cell in her body screaming "danger."
Qin Qiu buttoned the last cuff, turned around, and walked toward her step by step.
His shadow completely enveloped her.
"Forensic scientist Shen, you now face two choices."
He looked down at her, his eyes devoid of desire, only a cold, probing gaze like a dissection.
"One, call the police now. They will arrive in ten minutes, and you, as the only suspect on the scene, will be immediately detained. They will find alcohol and my DNA in your body, and perhaps your skin cells on the victim. With all the evidence, congratulations, you'll be in handcuffs, and your career will be over."
His voice was soft, but it hit Shen Mian like a hammer.
She bit her lip hard, her nails almost digging into her palms.
He was right.
It was a fact she, as a forensic scientist, knew all too well.
"Two," Qin Qiu's lips curled into a faint smile, colder than ice, "