SFTD -Chapter 365 White Spots Reappear (Part 6)

Zhou Hai was momentarily stunned. What Hu Nan had said earlier seemed to have given him a thread of insight, but the last sentence immediately left him speechless. What on earth was going on in that person’s head?

Fa Hai: Thanks for the explanation. By the way, seeing you reminded me of something I need to coordinate with you. I mentioned it before—the provincial document about drafting a procurement standards catalog. Have you prepared it on your side?

Provincial City Hu: …

Fa Hai: What does the ellipsis mean?

Provincial City Hu: Fine. You really are a steel straight man. I’ve already finished it. I’m just waiting for the official “red-headed document” to be issued. I help you do things and you don’t even say anything nice—at least a thank you, right?

Fa Hai: Then… thank you ba.

Provincial City Hu: What does the “ba” in “thank you ba” mean?

Zhou Hai nearly lost his patience. He had just started to piece together a lead, and she had completely scrambled his thoughts.

Fa Hai: You’re a city-level leader. Caring about subordinates still requires a thank you? That’s a bit bureaucratic. I’ve got things to do, I’m logging off.

Without waiting for Hu Nan’s reply, he directly closed the app and, still uneasy, put the phone on silent. The entire sequence of actions was done smoothly, like flowing water.

Xu Biao and Fengzi, standing beside him, had seen everything clearly—including the chat content. They both instinctively wanted to cover their faces, but seeing that Hu Nan’s thinking was quite similar to Fengzi’s, Fengzi even felt a small sense of pride.

Zhou Hai tilted his chin at Xu Biao.

“Continue. What else did you find?”

Xu Biao took out the locked box and pushed it in front of Zhou Hai and Fengzi, while flipping through photos on the computer.

“In the victim Dong Bin’s workshop, everything was very simple—just sample drawings, various tools and machine equipment. There was only a wardrobe and a desk. Nothing unusual in the wardrobe: four or five long-sleeved shirts, jackets, underwear, socks, and shoes.

Inside the inner part of the workshop there was a semi-enclosed compartment. Inside it was a bed. This small box was found in the gap between the head of the bed and the wall.

I tried to open it but couldn’t. I don’t know what’s inside or whether it’s related to the case.”

Zhou Hai examined the box and shook it slightly. A faint rustling sound came from inside. Clearly there was something in it, and it was very light—not metal. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the lock.

It was a six-digit combination lock—not the standard type sold on the market. It looked custom-made. Though a bit bulky, its craftsmanship was clearly on another level.

The three exchanged glances. Xu Biao waved his hand.

“Don’t look at me. I wouldn’t dare try a six-digit lock even if I had the courage. What if there’s some mechanism inside that destroys everything after a wrong input? That would be a disaster.”

Zhou Hai poured out the victim’s documents and wallet, found the ID card, and tried the birthdate: 820406. He entered it and pulled lightly—the lock didn’t budge.

He frowned and entered another sequence: 198246.

Before he even reached to turn it, the lock clicked open.

Xu Biao grimaced. How had he forgotten the ID number angle? But then all three of them stared intently at the small wooden box.

Fengzi and Xiao Liang were the same. Zhou Hai removed the lock, opened the latch, and glanced at the three of them.

Though he said nothing, he was also tense. One hand supported the bottom of the box while the other lifted the lid.

It opened easily.

The moment he saw what was inside, Zhou Hai’s fingers trembled.

Amid strands of shredded paper was a small transparent glass bottle. Inside were four capsules. The bottle mouth was sealed with a rubber stopper, and around its neck was a red elastic cord tying a card-like note.

Fearing contamination from earlier contact, Zhou Hai removed a layer of gloves and carefully picked up the bottle.

Xu Biao and the others nearly gasped. They had all followed Zhou Hai to Duping before—they immediately recognized the bottle.

It was the same one from the Duping poisoning case. The only difference was that the one they had previously found contained only a single capsule.

Fengzi quickly took out an evidence bag. Zhou Hai gently placed the bottle inside and took a deep breath before continuing.

Pushing aside the shredded paper, a golden six-pointed star badge appeared. He placed it on the lid of the forensic kit and continued sorting through the debris.

Then he found a carefully wrapped, elongated cylindrical object—about the thickness of a pen, tightly wrapped in thick cling film. Zhou Hai took it out.

Nothing else remained in the box. He lifted it again, checked carefully for hidden compartments, then set it aside.

A crude wooden box, paired with a lock set to the victim’s birthday, hidden in such a concealed place—this must have been something the victim cared about deeply.

Or perhaps it was intentionally left there by someone who wanted them to find it.

If so, then the item could very well be something left by the killer. Was all this elaborate setup a warning—or a clue?

Zhou Hai closed his eyes briefly. The strain of high tension caused his eyes to tremble slightly, making him irritated. But he quickly calmed himself.

In his mind, he seemed to hear Lu Xi’s voice—just that single “Zhou Hai”—and he immediately broke free from his chaotic emotions.

Now was not the time for distraction. Whatever it was, it had to be sent for testing immediately.

He gestured to Xiao Liang.

“Send these for inspection. But let Xu Biao handle fingerprint extraction on the bottle first.”

Xu Biao, no longer in his usual playful mood, took the bottle to the lab bench and carefully began extracting fingerprints. Xiao Liang went to assist him.

Zhou Hai turned to Fengzi.

“Scalpel.”

Fengzi handed him the handle. Zhou Hai held tweezers in one hand and a scalpel in the other, slicing open the cling film layer by layer.

As the blade peeled it away, a pale blue object gradually emerged.

It was a syringe—a 1ml allergy test injection syringe.

Zhou Hai frowned tightly. What was this meant for?

He removed the remaining film and lifted the syringe, noticing a small amount of transparent liquid still inside the needle.

This was impossible to identify by eye alone. He placed it directly onto Xu Biao’s tray.

Xu Biao had already examined the bottle thoroughly and honestly, Zhou Hai hadn’t expected much.

The person behind this was too meticulous—why would they leave traces here unless it was intentional?

Sure enough, Xu Biao looked up at the monitor.

“We found two partial fingerprints—confirmable as the victim Dong Bin’s right thumb and index finger. Also, the partial fingerprint on the iron pipe dagger… is also the victim’s. This is unbelievable. It’s not scientific at all. Could it be… he stabbed himself with his own hand?”