Yang Ping took it, flipping page by page, and stopped when he reached the inventory page.
"Is there a computer in the deceased’s study?"
"Yes!" Xiao He replied, "A desktop computer and a laptop. We’ve checked them; nothing unusual. His browsing history, emails, docunts are all normal. The only search records from the past week are related to organic chemistry."
"What about his phone?"
"A smartphone was also found at the scene. Call records, texts, and WeChat are all normal. The only recent calls are for takeout and deliveries."
Yang Ping nodded and continued flipping, closing the docunt at the last page.
"I need to see the scene," he said.
Dr. Yuan’s eyes lit up: "Great, Professor Yang, when are you available?"
Yang Ping glanced at his watch: "This afternoon. Zhaxi, you co with ."
Zhaxi’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded vigorously.
At 2 PM that afternoon, Zhaxi followed Yang Ping into the vehicle of the Public Security Bureau. Dr. Yuan drove, Xiao He sat in the passenger seat, and Yang Ping and Zhaxi sat in the back. The car drove for about forty minutes and entered a community in the Nandu Old City District. The community was small, with only six buildings, all six-story walk-ups with beige-painted exteriors that looked at least twenty years old.
The deceased lived in Unit 4, Floor 4 of Building 3, without an elevator. The stairwell was clean but dimly lit. Dr. Yuan walked ahead and unlocked the door to Unit 401 with a key.
As soon as the door opened, Zhaxi caught a faint scent. It wasn’t the stench of decay, but an indistinct chemical sll, sowhat like organic solvents used in a laboratory, and sowhat like burnt plastic.
Yang Ping stood at the door without entering imdiately. He glanced around and then crouched down to inspect the door lock.
"Are there any signs of tampering with the lock?"
Dr. Yuan shook his head: "No, the technical departnt checked; the lock cylinder is intact without any signs of technical bypassing."
Yang Ping nodded and stepped inside.
The living room was small but tidy. The sofa, coffee table, and TV stand were neatly arranged. A teacup sat on the coffee table, still half-filled with water, with a thin layer of dust floating on its surface. The nearby ashtray contained two cigarette butts, both completely dried.
Yang Ping did not linger in the living room and instead went straight into the study.
The study was even smaller than the living room, approximately ten square ters. A desk was positioned by the window, holding a half-drunk cup of tea, an open "Advanced Organic Chemistry" book, a desk lamp, a pen holder, and several pens. A wall behind the desk was lined with shelves filled with books, mostly chemistry texts, along with so novels and essays.
Yang Ping stood before the desk, scrutinizing its surface. His gaze moved from the teacup to the book, then from the book to the lamp, and from the lamp to the pen holder. He picked up the pen holder, checked its bottom, then put it back.
Then he crouched down to inspect the floor beneath the desk. The floor was light-colored wood, very clean, showing no visible marks.
"Was he sitting here when he died?" Yang Ping asked.
Xiao He nodded: "Yes, when the coroner arrived, he was slumped over the desk. We moved him, and his position didn’t change."
Yang Ping stood, walked over to the bookshelf, and glanced at the books before pulling one out. It was an old "Advanced Organic Chemistry" exercise book, with yellowed pages, well-preserved, and without warped edges or creases. He flipped through it, noting the neatly penciled annotations within.
He returned the book and pulled out another. It was an "Organic Synthesis Route Design," equally old and well-preserved.
Zhaxi stood at the door, watching Yang Ping’s every move, not daring to disturb him. He didn’t know what Yang Ping was searching for but sensed he was indeed searching for sothing.
Yang Ping suddenly asked, "Did the deceased have the habit of keeping a diary?"
Dr. Yuan paused: "A diary? We didn’t find any diary at the scene."
Xiao He thought for a mont and said, "There’s no diary file on his computer, nor did we find a handwritten notebook. But we did find so scattered sticky notes with brief mos, nothing substantive."
Yang Ping nodded without speaking. He walked to the window, pushed it open, and glanced outside. Beyond was a small courtyard with a few planted trees but little of particular interest.
"The screen?" he asked.
"Intact!" Xiao He said, "We’ve checked it, no damage or signs of removal."
Yang Ping closed the window and turned his attention to the book open on the desk. He approached and glanced down at its open pages, noticing faint pencil notations.
He stared at the page for a long ti, then raised his head and asked a question no one anticipated: "What was the deceased’s research focus before retirent?"
Xiao He flipped through his materials: "Organic synthesis, specifically... asymtric catalysis, he was one of the early pioneers in this field dostically."
Yang Ping nodded again and asked, "Does his laboratory still exist?"
Dr. Yuan replied, "Yes, Nandu University’s chemistry departnt has a new laboratory, but the old one remains preserved, now managed by one of his students."
Yang Ping was silent for a mont, then said, "I want to visit his laboratory."
Dr. Yuan and Xiao He exchanged a glance. Dr. Yuan said, "Sure, I’ll arrange it."
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