Bingxin dissected the dog's stomach, exposing everything within the intestines. Frowning, she said, "What‘s that?"
"Human feces, dog food, and a piece of fresh meat," I listed.
Once the feces were digested, a large amount of ammonia was released. The overpowering sour odor was too much for me to bear. I felt my eyes tear up.
Fortunately, we had each consumed a Mind Clearing Pill so the effects were stifled. Nausea varied from person to person. Without the psychological stimulation, we wouldn’t feel physically nauseous. Sun Bingxin and I were better prepared to handle the sight and smell. At most, we were slightly taken aback by the stench. Meanwhile, Xiaotao was a little overwhelmed. Covering her nose, she took a few steps backwards.
"Why don’t you deal with other matters first?” I waved my hand. “You don't have to watch."
"Make sure you clean up after you’re done!" reminded Xiaotao.
"Come on, let's check the feces!" I said, turning to Bingxin.
"Don't speak such disgusting words,” laughed Bingxin.
In the dog's stomach, the meat was hardly digested. Since dog teeth had no chewing function and were mainly used for cutting up their food, the meat was swallowed whole. I noticed some white powder on the meat which I suspected to be rat poison.
We bagged the meat and handed it over to the technical team.
Next came the feces. I dipped a little with a cotton swab and analyzed, "The color is slightly dark, soft. I think this person had excessive internal heat and an unhealthy liver, probably caused by long-term smoking and drinking."
Bingxin picked up a small lump with her tweezers. "There are still undigested shrimp, rice grains and green peppers in it."
"This person is a little constipated. He probably stayed up late for a period of time so his gastrointestinal movement is irregular,” I added. “This looks like fried rice with shrimp."
Bingxin nodded, "That’s quite a big shrimp."
We cut open the stomachs of several other Tibetan Mastiffs. Bingxin’s indifference to the whole process was rather surprising. "You seem rather steady in the face of this all. Did you train yourself?"
"Aren’t you just the same?" she smiled.
"To me, dead bodies are all objects. What's so disgusting about an object?" I chuckled.
"We usually attended the same anatomy class with other grades. Those cynical seniors would share all sorts of disgusting jokes,” Bingxin narrated. “At first, I was so sick I would beg them to stop. I even threw up a few times. Then, I gradually got used to it..."
"What sort of disgusting jokes?" I asked.
Bingxin mentioned a few but failed to draw any reaction from me. Seeing how unaffected I was, she tossed out a ‘big one.’ "Song Yang-gege, do you know that excrement can cure diseases?"
I thought about it and replied, "There’s a lot of examples of animal feces used as medicine in the Compendium of Materia Medica."
Bingxin shook her head and explained that certain people lacked good bacteria in their intestines that help digest food. One kind of bacteria therapy was to break up the stools of healthy people and transfer it to patients. Not through the mouth, but with a nasal tube inserted into the throat from the nasal cavity, all the way to the intestines. Then, a few kilograms of stool would be transferred that way. And in order to ensure the survival of the good bacteria, the stools were still warm.
At this point, Bingxin started laughing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Stop talking, I can't stand it..." I cried.
We suddenly noticed some dark red liquid on one of the stools. "It's blood!" exclaimed Bingxin. She immediately took a sample and placed it in the evidence bag. It seemed we finally had one of the murderer’s DNA.
The task didn’t require much brainwork or skills. It was mainly tedious work. After finishing up, we both stood up with backaches. Bingxin pouted, "Song Yang-gege, massage my shoulders, won’t you?"
"I'll do it later. Let’s remove the dogs’ bodies first,” I said. “Haven’t you noticed how everyone is walking around us?"
The Tibetan Mastiff's body was too heavy to carry alone. After placing them in body bags, I instructed several officers to transport them outside and look for a suitable spot to bury them. Then, I brought out a small incense burner and lighted some incense, waving it around the room and over our bodies to get rid of the stench.
I grabbed my cell phone to check something online, but Bingxin turned her back to me and demanded, "Massage my shoulders!"
"Wait a minute. I'm looking for takeout options nearby."
"You’re thinking of ordering something?" she asked.
"At least one of the murderers ate shrimp fried rice. I’m guessing it’s takeout. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I highly doubt many restaurants deliver here," I deduced.
I checked out shrimp fried rice at all the available restaurants, confirmed the payment and put away my cell phone. "Turn around!" I barked.
Bingxin jumped up and turned around like an eager bunny. I stretched my hand and massaged her shoulders, drawing a comfortable moan from Bingxin who had her eyes closed. As soon as Xiaotao noticed what we were doing, she brought her finger to her lips, gesturing for me to remain silent and move out of the way. Then, she began squeezing hard on Bingxin’s shoulders.
A moment later, Bingxin sensed a change. Turning around, she said, “Why did you guys switch?"
"Do you have an opinion?” chided Xiaotao. “You’re really enjoying yourself huh! Doing something like this during working hours!"
"We’ve finished examining the body and found one of the murderer's DNA," argued Bingxin.
Right then, my cell phone rang, and more than a dozen restaurants informed me our location was too remote for delivery so they rejected the order. Only one was willing to deliver all the way here–a French restaurant with its own delivery staff.
"Sorry, I only ordered my share,” I said.
Xiaotao seemed uninterested in takeout. "You have it. I don’t have an appetite right now."
My cell phone rang again; it was the restaurant informing me the place was too difficult to locate. The restaurant staff directed me to a nearby drop-off point where the delivery boy would meet me. The food would arrive in about twenty minutes.
We decided to head there together. Xiaotao instructed the officers to clean up the scene and bring the evidence back for testing. Then, the three of us got into Xiaotao’s car.
After waiting shortly at the drop-off point, a delivery boy arrived in a battery car and asked, "Who ordered shrimp fried rice?"
I admitted it was my order while Xiaotao flashed her badge. "We’re the police and we’re investigating a case. We have some questions for you. Have you ever delivered meals to this address?"
"Yes!" nodded the delivery boy.
"Can you describe the customer’s appearance?" I queried.
The delivery boy recalled that the man was wrapped up tightly so he couldn’t see his face at night. But from his hands and eyes, it was obvious he was older, probably in his forties. I was a little surprised to hear his description which differed from my guess.
"How many portions did he order?"
Grabbing his cell phone, the delivery boy scrolled through his orders and showed us the information. The man had ordered a meal for six, including fried rice, snail risotto, pasta and beer. He specifically asked for six sets of cutlery.
The man who picked up the food was someone else besides the four murderers. The delivery boy complained it was already very dark at the time. Driving along the dark road headed to such a remote and deserted location had him shaking in his shoes.
I was a little embarrassed for making him come all the way to deliver shrimp fried rice so I tipped him a hundred yuan. "Thanks for the hard work. Here’s a little something for the information."
"There’s even a tip for the information?" The delivery boy was pleasantly surprised. “Thank you! I'll be on my way then!"
Just as he got into his battery car, Xiaotao received a text message. Upon glancing at her phone, she suddenly stopped the delivery boy from leaving.
Heat according to traditional Chinese medicine is a general condition of hyperactivity that arises as a result of a fundamental Yin-Yang imbalance.