"Mr. Zhou!"

Wang Yang projected the photos sent back from the scene onto the wall, the enlarged details of the dents appearing striking against the white surface.

"The deformation characteristics of Wang Ming's car front are too distinctive."

"Combining the reports from the two investigation teams..."

His finger slid across the projected image, "I believe Wang Ming is concealing a critical fact."

After thinking for a moment, Zhou Yong nodded, speaking in a deep voice: "Indeed, the local deformation marks on the car front are very obvious."

After a long while, he added: "Mr. Wang, the traces at the scene are sufficient to support a second interrogation."

Wang Yang glanced at his watch.

"The bone age identification on Jiang An's side will take until tomorrow morning at the earliest; we won't wait for it!"

"I'm heading to the interrogation room now."

When Wang Yang and Zhou Yong pushed open the iron door of the interrogation room again, the metal hinges emitted a piercing creak.

The incandescent lights inside cast a ghostly pallor on Wang Ming's face, the beads of sweat on his temple glistening under the strong light.

The shadows of the two officers stretched long, like a towering wall pressing in front of the suspect.

"Wang Ming!"

Wang Yang slammed a stack of photos onto the table with force, the sound of the plastic cover hitting the metal surface ringing crisply.

"Look at these newly discovered pieces of evidence."

His voice was icy, "Did you think washing the car clean would conceal the truth?"

Wang Ming's Adam's apple rolled violently, his gaze fixing on the photos.

The vehicles in these photos were undeniably his own.

And he still vividly remembered the dents on the car front.

....

Two minutes later, fine beads of sweat seeped from Wang Ming's forehead.

He stiffly lifted his head, eyes wandering, and lips trembling slightly as he said: "Wha...what evidence?"

"I didn't kill anyone, I just transport fruit."

No sooner had he finished speaking, Wang Yang suddenly raised his volume in excitement.

"Are you going to tell me that the front of the car deformed by itself?"

"Deformation?"

"What deformation?"

Zhou Yong slammed his hand on the table fiercely, causing the metal cup to jump on the surface with a crisp sound.

"There are obvious deformation marks on the right side of the vehicle,"

He pointed emphatically at the photographs on the table, "The arc and depth of this dent perfectly match the characteristics of a collision with a human body."

"The forensic report shows the victim had multiple fractures."

"No… it's not..."

Wang Ming's fingers intertwined unconsciously, his knuckles turning white from gripping too hard.

"The impact dent there... that…?"

His voice abruptly stopped, as if his throat had been suddenly constricted.

The interrogation room plunged into a deathly silence, only the hum of the air conditioner resonating.

Wang Yang and Zhou Yong exchanged a meaningful glance.

As seasoned detectives, they were all too familiar with this reaction — it was the prelude to a suspect's psychological defenses collapsing.

Wang Yang leaned forward, his hands crossed and braced on the table, his voice low and forceful: "Wang Ming, look up at me."

"Don't play these little tricks anymore, our chain of evidence is very complete."

"If you confess now, there's still a chance for leniency."

The clock on the wall ticked away, each second like a heavy hammer pounding on Wang Ming's heart.

After a long five minutes, his shoulders slumped in defeat, his voice hoarse: "I'll tell... I'll tell everything..."

Wang Yang's tense facial muscles finally relaxed, and he quietly let out a sigh of relief.

Zhou Yong eagerly opened his notebook, the pen making a hasty scribbling sound across the pages.

Wang Yang pulled out a packet of Chinese-brand cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and slowly pushed it toward Wang Ming: "Here, have a smoke and take a breather."

"Remember, make sure to detail every aspect clearly, only then can we help you."

Wang Ming trembled as he accepted the cigarette, taking two strong puffs, the smoke swirling in front of him.

"It was this March..."

His voice was unsteady, "I went to the Tibetan Area to haul goods… that night, the fog was exceptionally thick…"

He abruptly paused there, his eyes flickering, "I… I hit a yak..."

"What?"

Wang Yang suddenly stood up, the chair scraping across the floor with an ear-piercing sound.

Zhou Yong's pen dropped onto the table with a clatter.

"Could you say that again?"

Wang Yang's voice suddenly rose by eight notes, "A yak?"

Wang Yang felt a sudden dizziness.

He initially thought this hit-and-run traffic accident case was about to be solved, but he didn't expect the suspect to come up with such a ridiculous excuse.

He suppressed his anger, his fingers heavily tapping the table.

"Wang Ming! Do you think this is a fairy tale meeting?"

"Yaks in the Tibetan Area have herders watching over them, each worth tens of thousands. Would hitting one let you escape easily?"

Zhou Yong's face also turned unusually grim.

He picked up a pen and said coldly, "Looks like you plan to resist to the end."

"Want to see the other evidence we have?"

"Officer, I'm really not lying!"

Wang Ming suddenly became agitated, oblivious to the ash falling on his pants.

"That day, I was driving through a deserted area, it was past two in the middle of the night, and the fog was so thick even the headlights couldn't penetrate it."

"That yak just appeared out of nowhere..."

His voice grew lower, "I... I was so scared, I just... ran..."

Wang Yang's temples throbbed, and he grabbed the folder on the table, slamming it hard onto the desk.

"Make it up! Keep making it up!"

His voice trembled slightly with anger, "I'll give you one last chance, tell the truth about what you hit that night!"

For an instant, the air in the interrogation room seemed to freeze.

Wang Ming shrank into his chair, the cigarette in his hand had burned down to the filter, with a long ash teetering dangerously.

Meanwhile, in the forensic laboratory, it was a different scene.

Jiang An was fully concentrated, bending over the microscope, his nose nearly touching the eyepiece.

Through the high-powered lens, the microscopic world of the bone fragments unfolded clearly.

Even though these bone samples had been ground into fine bone powder, under the magnification of the professional instrument, the minute structural features were vividly displayed.

He noticed the reticular structure of the bones showed irregular collapse, certain areas had trabeculae that were obviously worn and broken, and some areas displayed typical signs of weathering.

These were important pathological evidence.

"Please give me a pen."

Jiang An said without lifting his head, his voice calm yet undeniably authoritative.

The moment he finished speaking, Zhang Yean immediately handed him a notebook and pen.

Jiang An took the paper and pen, his long fingers moved quickly across the paper, leaving line after line of neat handwriting.

Localized collapse of the reticular structure, trabeculae fracture degree about 30%.

Sample Area B shows typical weathering erosion features, erosion area about 2.3 square millimeters.

.....

He recorded over thirty observation indicators in one go, each data point accurate to two decimal places.

The few colleagues standing aside unanimously held their breath.

When Jiang An finally put down the pen, the two young forensic assistants looked at the densely packed professional records on the page, too shocked to speak.

One of them stammered, "This... this kind of analytical ability... is simply beyond normal cognitive scope..."

The other assistant murmured to himself, "It's unbelievable, just based on such a small piece of bone powder sample..."

Even Wan and Zhang Yean wore expressions of disbelief.

Zhang Yean picked up the slide and scrutinized it repeatedly, shaking her head in puzzlement, "Mr. Jiang, can you really see so much from just this drop of reagent reaction?"

"It clearly..."

Her voice gradually trailed off.

Jiang An chuckled lightly at this, gesturing for Zhang Yean to observe.

"Come!"

"Adjust the focus to 400 times, pay attention to the staining reaction at the junction of the trabeculae."

Zhang Yean adjusted the microscope to observe.

After two minutes, she was still puzzled, "To me, all these lines look the same..."

"That's the difference between us amateurs and experts,"

Wan patted Zhang Yean's shoulder, half-jokingly sighing.

"We outsiders can just enjoy the spectacle, the real expertise has to depend on the professionals."

The two forensic scientists exchanged a helpless glance, shaking their heads with bitter smiles.

Ten minutes later, Jiang An organized the recorded data and turned his gaze to the temperature and humidity change curve chart hanging on the wall.

"These are just basic analyses!"

He said steadily, "Next, we need to proceed with the most critical step — deducing the exact time of death based on the characteristics of bone changes."

Immediately, the laboratory fell silent, everyone holding their breath waiting for Jiang An's conclusion.