Chapter 4: Zhen Nuan and Yan Han’s First Confrontation
Zhen Nuan looked down at the handsome man crouched on the ground. After a brief pause, she finally connected the beautiful face at the card table with the same “verbal enthalpy” that had once clenched her teeth in the dark.
“Nuannuan!”
Her colleague, trace examiner Guan Xiaoyu, squeezed in through the crowd.
Out of breath, she winked at Zhen Nuan and whispered, “The team called me, and I said I was already here…” Then she turned and spotted Yan Han. Her face paled instantly.
“Captain Yan… Captain Yan, what a coincidence, why are you… squatting here?”
Yan Han raised a brow. “Should I lie here instead?”
Guan Xiaoyu chuckled awkwardly, forced a bitter smile, and hurried upstairs with her instrument box.
Zhen Nuan’s mind blanked for a moment. Captain?
When she first reported for duty, Guan Xiaoyu had teased her:
“My beautiful Nuannuan, I don’t have much of a gift, so I’ll give you a title—Police Beauty. From now on, you and our Captain Police Grass will be the pride of the team. We could plaster your faces on a billboard wishing everyone in Yucheng a Happy New Year.”
Zhen Nuan had been speechless then, and even more now. Yan Han was anything but cute.
She had chosen Yucheng on the recommendation of Professor Zheng, her mentor at the University of Pennsylvania. Yucheng’s C-Lab—China’s only multi-disciplinary criminal technology laboratory—was a dream for any forensic scientist. Pathology, toxicology, physics, anthropology, entomology… every field worked under one roof. With a 99.7% clearance rate, the lab’s reputation was unmatched.
For Zhen Nuan, this was her chance to devote herself to science, to uncover the truth hidden in evidence that never lied. But she never expected her first meeting with the captain of criminal investigation to happen like this.
Yan Han’s gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable. Does he suspect my connection to Shen Yi?
Her thoughts turned uneasy. Shen Yi’s past was murky, Huasheng Group’s rise tainted with shadows. If Yan Han chose to, he could ruin Shen Yi with a single detail. Worse—he was her direct superior.
Why am I so unlucky?
But she quickly steadied herself. She tied her hair with an ox bone hairpin, tucked her scarf into her bag, and slipped on clean gloves. Squatting beside the corpse, she began her examination.
Yan Han was already checking the head. She examined the legs, the hem of the wedding dress torn and dirtied with mud, water, and wilted petals. Her eyes followed his gaze to the uneven decorative belt around the victim’s waist.
Was someone pulling it?
Their eyes met. His piercing look made her throat dry. She coughed, her breath turning white in the cold air.
“Remember to take the belt back for chemical treatment,” Yan Han instructed.
Zhen Nuan jumped at his voice. “Oh—yes.”
His smile was faint, unreadable. “Are you afraid of me?”
She shook her head quickly, though her guilty expression betrayed her.
He chuckled. “I won’t eat you.”
Her scalp tingled. This man…
The investigation moved swiftly. Blood at the shoes, mud in the soles, fragments of colored paper. Zhen Nuan pieced together a theory in silence. Upstairs, the crime scene told an even darker story—broken furniture, shattered glass, petals scattered like confetti, and a torn lace strand caught on a rose stand.
The victim’s cheap wedding dress contrasted bitterly with Dong Sisi’s luxurious gown as the real bride appeared, calm and composed beside Shen Zetian.
But Ji Fala shattered that composure, her fiery accusations spilling into the room. She clung to Zhen Nuan, calling her “Sister Nuannuan,” and claimed to witness Dong Sisi and Shen Zetian quarrel with Jiang Xiao.
The chaos escalated until Yan Han’s cold voice cut through:
“Get out.”
Ji Fala defied him, leaving broken evidence under her feet. Yan Han’s dark eyes gleamed. His calm words—charging her with obstructing and assaulting police—were like strikes of a gavel.
Within seconds, he handcuffed her to the corridor door.
Zhen Nuan’s heart raced. She pleaded softly, “Captain, she’s still young and ignorant, forget it.”
Yan Han’s lips curved. “Okay. For your sake, I won’t use the baton.”
Ji Fala froze. The corridor buzzed with whispers, but she held her head high, hiding humiliation behind a cold smile.
Dong Sisi, unshaken, claimed innocence. Witnesses vouched that Jiang Xiao had been alive after they left.
Yan Han’s eyes narrowed, cold and sharp. “Who said this is the crime scene?”
At the same time, Zhen Nuan spoke without thinking:
“This is not the crime scene.”
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