"This is the first thing you overlooked," Alex said, pointing with steady precision. "Look at these sutures. The spacing between each stitch is exactly 0.5 centimeters. That tells us the person who did this had an expert understanding of skin surface tension. They knew exactly how to angle the needle for the cleanest, smoothest line—and how to position the entry points so the victim's arms and legs could be posed in those complex, high-difficulty dance positions perfectly."
"He is without question an outstanding surgeon… and a left-hander. Only a left-handed person would naturally enter the needle at a 45-degree slant like this."
"Oh my God!"
If one sentence could describe Luo Weiwei's expression in that moment, it would be: her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"Second," Alex continued, "Lily Hopper was not thrown into the water by someone else. She jumped in herself—deliberately."
The entire room froze.
"What? She jumped on her own? Why would Lily do that?"
"If she was still capable of rational action, why didn't she call for help? Why not fight back or try to escape instead of jumping?"
A storm of questions erupted. Alex answered calmly, almost softly:
"The reason is simple. Someone was chasing her."
He stood beside Lily's body and continued the examination. Through the bone-listening rod, her remains seemed to speak slowly to the idol she had once admired—revealing, piece by piece, what she had endured.
A brutal scene unfolded in Alex's mind.
A wounded young woman, running for her life. Ahead of her: water. Behind her: the killer.
She had only one choice left.
She knew she would never survive—so she turned her body into a message.
This was the final clue she left for the man she called "Brother Alex."
"So Lily uncovered something critical? She was being hunted?"
Tracking specialist Li Jin spoke first, voice tight.
"It's not that simple," Alex replied.
He turned to Captain Lane and gave a small nod.
"We can begin."
This time Alex hadn't come alone. He had brought four old friends—his specially prepared red umbrellas.
Following his instructions, Lane hung the umbrellas from the skylight, one in each cardinal direction: east, west, south, north.
A thick, herbal scent immediately filled the room, heavy and medicinal.
"What are those red umbrellas for?"
A young pathologist looked puzzled. Why use antique tools instead of modern equipment?
The female pathologist beside him whispered an explanation:
"Those aren't ordinary umbrellas. They're Detective Song's autopsy umbrellas."
She gave her colleague a quick history lesson.
Alex Song is a direct descendant of Song Ci, the founding father of forensic science. In Song Ci's famous text *The Washing Away of Wrongs*, he described the umbrella inspection method. Ancient people already understood that ultraviolet light could reveal hidden injuries. Over time, Judge Song Ci refined the technique, coating umbrella surfaces with special herbal solutions. When sunlight passed through, the "autopsy umbrella" could expose different kinds of trauma on the body.
"Detective Song must have recreated his own custom version based on those ancient methods. He's used these red umbrellas in countless cases. I never thought I'd get to see them in person—let alone four at once!"
As she spoke, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
Luo Weiwei, standing close to Alex, couldn't hide her starry-eyed admiration.
"I knew it—the red umbrella autopsy! Your signature technique!"
Alex shook his head.
"No. This time I'm using something far rarer: the Song family's lost art, extinct for over three hundred years—the Sun-Welcoming Red Umbrella Technique."
With that, he glanced at his watch.
"Open all the curtains—now."
The second hand hit twelve.
In an instant, the four umbrellas flared with deep crimson light, bathing both bodies in overlapping red fan-shaped patterns.
Alex's pupils shifted subtly. Anyone looking closely would have seen his irises layered in three distinct colors.
This was his Cave-Seeing Eye.
What appeared to ordinary people as plain red light revealed itself to him in intricate gradients—like a rainbow of different reds.
Miraculously, bruises and contusions appeared across both bodies—two completely different patterns.
One set was savage, brutal—like a wild animal mauling its prey.
Whip marks. Boot prints. Open-hand slaps.
Luo Weiwei stared at the newly visible red blotches on the corpses, mouth open in shock.
Alex immediately called out:
"Photograph everything. Collect evidence."
Then he explained:
"These are crescent-shaped subcutaneous hemorrhages. They prove force was applied here—but the killer wanted the body preserved for the Lolita doll, so he suppressed any visible bruising or discoloration during life."
In other words, Lily had come terrifyingly close to being turned into a Lolita puppet herself.
She had escaped… barely.
Captain Lane's eyes reddened as he looked at the evidence of torture carved into Lily's body. He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together, refusing to let the tears fall.
Alex continued:
"The second set of marks is far more careful. They appear only three times: once to knock her unconscious, once to restrain her, and once to clean up afterward."
"So this case involves at least two perpetrators?"
Murmurs rippled through the task force.
"I knew it. No single person could carry out this many linked murders."
Alex spoke clearly for the first time:
"I suspect this isn't an ordinary serial killing at all. What I see is a hunting dog catching rabbits… and delivering them to its master."
"Judging by the pattern of abuse on Lily's body, she deliberately provoked the hunter with words—knowing it would make him more violent. She understood she wasn't getting out alive, so she used her own body to leave as much evidence as possible."
"That's why her injuries from the second type of assault are significantly more severe than on the first victim."
Alex let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Weiwei—do you remember the blunt trauma you found hidden in Lily's hair?"
"That was the key to her escape. The killer struck her skull hard enough to cause temporary brain injury—and that put her into a state of apparent death."
"False death—also called apparent death—is when the brain's vital centers temporarily shut down due to hypoxia or extreme cold. Externally, the person appears dead. Internally, they are still alive."
"Mechanical asphyxiation, electrical injury, head trauma, morphine, anesthetics—all can induce this state."
"Certain rare medical conditions can cause it too. I once encountered a girl named Chu Yan who suffered from something similar."
In short: by enraging the killer, Lily had only meant to leave more evidence on her body.
Instead, she accidentally provoked a blow severe enough to trigger false death.
The killer believed he had killed her—and that mistake gave her a narrow window to escape.
"I don't believe in gods or ghosts," Alex said quietly, voice catching, "but this time… I truly think Lily's courage moved Heaven itself. It let her enter false death. It let her get away."
His throat tightened as he spoke.
During autopsies, he never allowed emotion to interfere—it clouded judgment.
But this brave young woman had earned every ounce of his admiration.
As he worked, the scene played out vividly in his mind.
Lily's body—already in false death—was discarded to the side.
Through sheer willpower, she slowly regained consciousness.
She escaped the monster's lair… only to be spotted almost immediately by the "hunting dog."
In that final, desperate moment, she chose the river.
"Her brain had suffered catastrophic injury. Her body was covered in torture wounds. Her liver and kidneys were already failing. The pain would have been beyond human endurance.
Yet she outran the hunter.
And then—without hesitation—she threw herself into the water."
"Because she knew: she would die.
But her body would be found.
And the evidence she carried in her flesh would reach one man… a man named Alex Song."
A single tear slid down Alex's cheek.
Every pathologist in the room was crying.
They understood exactly how fragile a body in false death truly is.
Captain Lane's eyes were rimmed red. He bit down hard, refusing to let the tears spill.
Alex turned to him and offered a formal salute.
"Captain… you raised an extraordinary daughter.
Let's give this brave officer the applause she deserves."
Instantly, thunderous clapping erupted through the autopsy hall—wave after wave, refusing to fade.
In that moment, everyone could see her: the smiling girl standing tall, chest out, basking in the pride and honor of being a police officer.