SFTD -Chapter 133 Campus Gunfire (Part 14)

Zhou Hai held the envelope up to his nose. The damp stain on it gave off a faint sour odor, with a hint of something bitter, barely noticeable.

Zhou Hai put on gloves and carefully took out the contents. Inside were only two slips of paper—one large and one small. The handwriting was crooked and uneven, clearly handwritten in a deliberately disguised style to conceal the writer’s identity.

On the slightly older slip, it read:

“Sun Jingya, I really like you.”

On the larger slip, the tone changed completely:

“Don’t reject me, or I don’t know what I might do. I hope we can meet alone this time. There are things I only want to tell you in person.”

Neither note had a signature.

Zhou Hai held the older slip up to the sunlight and turned it slightly. At the bottom of the note were two tiny yellow spots, slightly raised. It seemed the paper had been stored inside something for quite a while, carrying a faint moldy smell.

The other note, however, was still fresh.

Could the “meeting” mentioned here be related to the deaths of those two girls?

Thinking this, Zhou Hai stood up and placed everything back into the box.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lin. I will transfer these to the Sun family as soon as possible.”

Then he asked, “I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier—how is Lin Jiajia doing?”

Mrs. Lin smiled with narrowed eyes.

“Dr. He said Jia Jia is much better now and can be moved to a regular single room. We transferred her to general surgery last night.”

“Congratulations. Then I won’t take up more of your time.”

After saying goodbye to Mrs. Lin, Zhou Hai quickly headed to Dr. He’s office. The doctor looked up, slightly surprised to see him.

“Dr. Zhou? Why are you here? The patient has already been moved to the general ward.”

Zhou Hai approached and glanced at the doctors beside him.

“Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Dr. He immediately put away his smile and nodded, leading Zhou Hai to a private office next door.

“I’d like to borrow an electron microscope.”

“I thought it was something serious. No problem, I have one right here.”

Dr. He brought him into the inner room, which had already been turned into a small laboratory. It was clear he had ongoing research work.

Zhou Hai wasted no time. He took out the note, used a cotton swab to scrape off the small raised yellow spots, smeared them onto a slide, and performed a quick stain.

Then he began observing under the microscope.

The more he looked, the more alarmed he became.

He quickly took out his phone to compare results—and discovered it matched the fungal colonies from Ceng Yimin. His expression tightened immediately.

Ceng Yimin had written a love confession to a girl?

And also threatened Sun Jingya?

But why did the wax-seal experiment show nothing?

If she really was the killer—and had already been interrogated by the police—she would now know that one victim was dead and the other critically injured in the hospital.

What would she do next?

Now Lin Jiajia had been moved out of ICU into a regular single room, no longer under heavy monitoring. If the killer knew, they would likely try to silence her.

But how did Ceng Yimin know about police updates?

And where did the gun come from?

Countless questions flooded Zhou Hai’s mind.

He quickly sent a WeChat message to Chu Menghan:

“Send people to protect Lin Jiajia. The killer may attempt to silence her. Strongly suspect Ceng Yimin. Increase surveillance on her.”

Dr. He, who had not paid much attention at first, now leaned over curiously as Zhou Hai frowned and checked the microscope.

“Wow… dematiaceous hyphomycetes, and a mixed-type colony. That’s a rare sample. Where did you find this?”

Seeing that he recognized the fungi, Zhou Hai became interested.

“In other countries, this kind of mixed dark mold infection is seen in wilderness survival enthusiasts and people living in tropical rainforests.”

“Dr. He, where in China would you commonly encounter this kind of fungal exposure?”

“There are cases in Hainan and Tibet. But in East South City, I once treated about ten patients like this—actually from your system.”

“Last summer, after an economic case involving an overseas fugitive operation in Europe, several people developed infections in their limbs. Even their family members were infected. It took a long time to stabilize with combined treatment.”

“Stabilize?”

“Yes. This disease is recurrent and difficult to cure. Even combined medication has limited effect.”

Zhou Hai understood this very well—but the information made him even more uneasy.

Then suddenly, he thought of someone.

“Dr. He, do you remember whether any police officer surnamed Ceng came for treatment?”

Dr. He frowned in thought.

“I can’t recall clearly. There were many cases, and they often came together. But I can have the nurses pull the electronic records for you. Everything is recorded there.”

Zhou Hai nodded.

“Please send me the list on WeChat. I need to go check on Lin Jiajia.”

As he left the office, his phone rang.

While walking quickly toward the ward, he answered.

“Why are you suddenly strongly suspecting Ceng Yimin?”

“Chu Menghan, I found something in the box Lin Jiajia’s mother gave me. It contained a threatening letter and a love note from Sun Jingya. There were also two fungal clusters on the paper—and they match Ceng Yimin’s infection exactly.”

“So this is urgent. Send people to track her immediately.”

“But the officers following Ceng Yimin… suddenly lost contact.”

“I’ve already sent more people to search for her. Don’t panic.”

Zhou Hai paused, scanning the hospital lobby as he quickened his pace.

“Got it. Check who participated in that Europe fugitive case last summer in East South City police bureau.”

“Okay. Where are you now?”

“At the hospital.”

“Going to Lin Jiajia’s room?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way too. Don’t act alone. Wait for me!”

With a “ding,” the elevator reached the 12th floor general surgery ward.

Zhou Hai hurried to room L1203, which he had confirmed earlier with Mrs. Lin.

He pushed the door open.

The room was empty of Mrs. Lin.

Only the steady beeping of medical equipment filled the space.

The conditions were excellent—private bathroom, adjustable hospital bed, monitors surrounding it.

Lin Jiajia lay in bed, covered in tubes and wires. Although her condition had improved, she was still unconscious after heart surgery.

Zhou Hai checked the monitor readings—stable for now.

While looking at her, he suddenly thought of Sun Jingya’s parents.

At their age, having another child was unrealistic. The two girls had been extremely close, even resembling each other slightly, and had gone through everything together.

Perhaps, for them, living with painful memories forever was not the only option.

Just then—

The door slowly opened.

Not in a normal way, but carefully—only a narrow gap, accompanied by faint corridor noise.

Zhou Hai stepped back and hid among the medical equipment, his hand instinctively reaching into his pocket for the handle of a surgical blade… but there was no blade attached.

He stared intently at the doorway.

A faint “click” sounded.

The corridor noise stopped.

Someone had entered—and closed the door.

A tall figure slowly stepped inside, wearing a plain black padded jacket and jeans, a baseball cap on his head.

He removed the cap.

Long, slightly messy hair fell down.

He looked directly at the hospital bed, then reached into his bag and pulled out a glass syringe, removing its protective cap as he walked forward.

But just as he was about to move, he noticed Zhou Hai standing between the machines.

Startled, he instinctively hid the syringe behind his back and stepped backward.

Zhou Hai’s lips curved slightly.

“You’re here. I’ve been waiting for you.”