After the meeting wrapped up, Captain Lane hustled over to Chief William Kingsley's office door, hoping to rope in former state advisor Alex Song to help crack the case.
"You think I haven't thought of that? The second this mess hit, I knew we needed Song on it, but he..."
"Sigh, let me try calling again."
"Sophia, it's me, your Uncle Will... Hey, don't hang up—it's important."
Hearing the beep-beep on the line, Chief Kingsley shrugged helplessly: "See? I'm out of options."
Captain Lane sighed; he'd seen this coming. Not just the chief—his own number was blocked too. Alex and his wife weren't giving anyone a shot at reaching them; they were young but living like total hermits.
He slouched out of the chief's office, caught off guard by a head popping around the corner: "Giving up already?"
"What else? Phone's not ringing—should I telepath them?"
Around others, Lane kept it cool and professional, but Lily Hopper always got under his skin.
"Captain, after all these years together, you can't tell me you don't know where Song lives?" Lily crossed her arms, pulling out the classic dare.
Lane perked up: "You mean... show up at his door?"
"Not you—us!"
She pointed at him, then herself: "Back in the day, Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang three times to get him out of hiding. Today, it's Lily Hopper's turn to triple-team Alex Song and drag the world's top forensic expert out of retirement!"
Lily was brimming with confidence: "There's that old saying—sincerity can move mountains. I'm his biggest fan. I bet this case hooks him!"
"Fingers crossed."
Lane let out a deep sigh, thinking about grabbing a gift basket, but Lily was all impulse, egging him on to drive over right then.
They changed into civvies and hit the road straight for that mysterious hideaway.
On the way, Lily chattered like a songbird: "Captain, I've always wondered—Song's only in his early thirties; why'd he bail on the force so suddenly?"
"You know he's a legend in law enforcement—nothing he couldn't solve, even took down the biggest crime syndicate, the North River Blades. If he were here, we'd have this wrapped up already..."
Faced with Lily's rapid-fire questions, Lane's ears started ringing.
Why had Alex Song retired early?
It was the department's top unsolved mystery.
And the answer? Probably only Alex knew for sure.
[Coming up: Alex Song makes his dazzling entrance! Unlock three thrilling chapters for just $1—each episode packs three chapters!]
Before long, at the end of the wooded highway, a standalone villa emerged: babbling brook, white walls, black tiles, upturned eaves—like a grand estate from ancient times.
"Wow, is this the Song Family Manor from that thriller book 'Underworld Detective'?"
Lily had read the suspense novel based on Alex Song and was dying to see if the book's manor matched reality.
"It's Song's place; I've been a guest a few times."
Lane smoothed his furrowed brow and forced a smile: "Sophia says the whole villa was designed by Song himself—scaled replica of Judge Song Ci's old residence, right down to the flowers and plants he planted by hand."
Hearing that, Lily couldn't wait—she flung open the car door and bolted toward the house.
"Hey, you little rascal!"
Lane had no choice but to follow, quickly popping the trunk to grab two bottles of premium whiskey.
The Song Family Manor had that classic Ming-Qing vibe: simple, understated, but full of character. It was huge, though, and with just two people living there, it felt eerily empty—especially surrounded by forests and barren hills that gave you chills.
They timed their arrival right at mealtime; stepping on the wooden stairs echoed with thuds, throwing Lily off for a second.
Alex's wife, Sophia Huang, was aproned up in the kitchen cooking. She looked surprised to see Lane but flashed a clear hint of resistance in her eyes.
"You're here—why bring gifts? Have a seat; dinner's almost ready." Sophia ushered them in, but mid-sentence, she glanced at her watch and dashed back to the kitchen.
She was stir-frying a delicate shrimp dish and couldn't spare a moment.
"Shrimp goes from pan to plate in exactly twenty seconds—too short, it's bland; too long, it's tough."
Watching her hurry off, Lane chuckled and explained to the puzzled Lily: "Sophia's Song's wife and ex-Riverside police chief. Didn't expect her to keep that old precinct habit—timing everything to the second. Just swapped case-cracking for cooking now."
"I mentored her for years; kinda like half a teacher."
"If it wasn't me showing up today, and say, Chief Kingsley instead? Door might not even open."
Lily nodded absently, her eyes darting around the room like she was hunting for something.
Lane knew—she was looking for Alex!
Not spotting him, Lily zeroed in on two portraits on the wall instead.
She jumped up and clomped over.
The left one showed an old man in a white robe, eyes full of kindness. The right depicted an elder in a black cloak, wearing a terrifying mask.
Two figures: one light, one dark; one yin, one yang—guardians of brightness and shadow.
"That's Song's grandfather, right?"
Lily pointed at the white-robed man, then shifted to the other: "And him... he must be the Blade Master!"
"I remember—the Blade Master took out tons of bad guys, but sadly, in the final takedown of the North River Blades, well..."
Trailing off, Lily stopped short, drawn to the antique rosewood cabinet under the portraits.
The glass was spotless, displaying an array of odd tools she'd never seen as a cop.
A red oil-paper umbrella reeking of strong herbs, a dark wooden tube, a crescent-shaped pillow, pricey rice paper, little bottles of rice wine and fermented glutinous rice, and finally, a mysterious leather case...
"These are for autopsies: the red umbrella, bone-listening rod, yin-yang pillow, oil paper!"
As she spoke, Lily's eyes misted up, like she was picturing a handsome young man wielding these forensic wonders with flair.
"In the Piano Phantom case, Detective Song unfurled this red umbrella to reveal the victim's handprints. Then he used the bone rod to listen to each bone's echo, pinpointing time of death at forty hours."
"In the Vampire case, Song used the oil-paper overlay to reconstruct how the victim died."
"And the rice wine—how could I forget? One cup to honor heaven and earth, two sticks of incense for the spirits."
...