The officers had practically turned the psychiatric hospital upside down, but they still couldn’t find the remaining half of the corpse.
However, they did manage to find quite a few potential murder weapons.
Hammers, wrenches, mallets, and other similar blunt instruments were piled up in the storage room.
Of course, whether these blunt tools found in the storage room were actually the murder weapons used in the case remained unknown.
After an entire day of exhausting work, the case still hadn’t made any progress.
This time, even Xu Mo, who usually had plenty of ideas, was at a loss.
Throughout the day, Han Fei had asked Xu Mo multiple times, “Do you have any thoughts?” but Xu Mo’s response was always the same: “Not for now.”
At 9 PM, the sky had completely darkened. Han Fei glanced at the time and then addressed the officers.
“Alright, everyone, let’s call it a day. We’ll head back to the station, sort out our thoughts, and then go home to rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
Han Fei decided it was time to take everyone back.
They had spent the entire day at the crime scene without any breakthroughs, so one more night wouldn’t make a difference.
After a day of high-intensity work, the officers’ nerves had been on edge all day. They needed to relax, rest, and organize their thoughts so they could approach the case with a fresh mindset the next day.
“Understood,” the officers responded, their spirits visibly low. It wasn’t exhaustion that weighed them down, but the frustration of having searched all day without finding any useful clues.
The group walked out of the main gate.
A row of police cars was parked in the open area outside the psychiatric hospital.
Everyone approached their respective vehicles, ready to drive back to the station.
Xu Mo’s car was at the front of the line.
After driving along the narrow two-lane road outside the hospital for about five minutes, Xu Mo suddenly pulled over, got out of his car, and called out to Han Fei.
“Captain Han, come here for a moment.” After parking, Xu Mo waved to the cars behind him, signaling them to stop as well.
Though puzzled, Han Fei stepped out of his car.
The other officers, following behind Xu Mo’s car, also stopped and got out.
“What’s going on?” Han Fei asked as he approached Xu Mo, his tone tinged with curiosity.
The officers also turned their attention to Xu Mo, their expressions filled with the same confusion as Han Fei’s. They had no idea what Xu Mo was up to.
“The security guard is suspicious,” Xu Mo stated succinctly.
“The security guard?” Han Fei furrowed his brow. “You mean Old Ding?”
Xu Mo nodded. “Yes.”
“What’s the issue? Why didn’t you mention this earlier when we were there?”
“It wasn’t something I could explain in just a few words at the time. It’s the same now,” Xu Mo replied with a faint smile. “If I’m not mistaken, Old Ding is also a psychiatric patient.”
Hearing this, the officers’ expressions grew even more perplexed, and they waited for Xu Mo to continue.
Xu Mo didn’t keep them waiting and immediately elaborated.
“While we were searching the psychiatric hospital earlier, I found a book in the security guard’s duty room. The corners of the book were worn and curled, a sign that it had been frequently read.”
“Old Ding’s? But he’s illiterate, isn’t he? Whose book was it?” Han Fei asked, puzzled.
“I asked, and the book belongs to Old Ding. That’s the problem. He’s illiterate, but there’s a book with curled corners on his bedside table. According to Old Ding, he suffers from sleepwalking, and the book is something he picked up during one of his episodes. He claims that when he sleepwalks, he gets up and reads the book.”
“I verified this with the hospital staff. They’re all aware of Old Ding’s sleepwalking habit of reading books. Many of them have even witnessed it themselves. Old Ding only learned about his sleepwalking from the staff.”
Han Fei was still confused. How was Old Ding’s sleepwalking and reading related to the case? Wasn’t it normal for someone to do strange things while sleepwalking?
Xu Mo seemed to read Han Fei’s thoughts. He shook his head and said, “Old Ding isn’t sleepwalking. In psychological terms, this is called dissociative identity disorder.”
“In most cases, the primary personality is unaware of the existence of other personalities, but the other personalities are fully aware of the primary personality. Old Ding is the murderer, but it was his alternate personality who committed the crime. That’s why he has no knowledge of it and can act so naturally, as if he knows nothing.”
After saying this, Xu Mo paused, giving the officers time to digest the information.
Dissociative identity disorder? The alternate personality committed the murder? The primary personality has no memory of it? The officers felt their brains were about to short-circuit.
“What about the note? Old Ding can’t write, can he? He can’t even write his own name properly. The handwriting on the note left at the scene is completely different from Old Ding’s,” one officer asked after a moment of thought.
Xu Mo glanced at the officer and replied, “Old Ding is illiterate, but his alternate personality can read and write. It taught itself. As I mentioned earlier, Old Ding says he reads books during his sleepwalking episodes, but in reality, it’s his alternate personality taking control of his body. The alternate personality is the one reading the books. Additionally, Old Ding has calluses on the left side of his middle finger and the pad of his thumb, which are typical of someone who writes frequently.”
“This is another reason I concluded that Old Ding isn’t simply sleepwalking but has dissociative identity disorder. Sleepwalking and flipping through books can be explained, but sleepwalking and teaching oneself to write to the point of developing calluses? That’s too far-fetched. While sleepwalking can lead to strange behaviors, there are limits, and sleepwalking to practice writing clearly exceeds those limits.”
“Old Ding can’t write; he can only scribble his name. He never learned to write, so his strokes are backward. The alternate personality, being aware of the primary personality, inherits some of its habits. That’s why the alternate personality also writes with backward strokes. The note left at the scene was written by Old Ding’s alternate personality.”
“The reason the alternate personality dared to leave a taunting note is that it knew we couldn’t catch it. Even if we did, Old Ding wouldn’t confess because he has no memory of the murders. He doesn’t even know his alternate personality exists.”
“I also found an old aluminum flashlight by Old Ding’s bedside. It’s heavy, like a metal rod. The tail of the flashlight has signs of being struck. If I’m not mistaken, those marks were left when it was used to strike the victim’s skull. The flashlight is the murder weapon.”
“I didn’t share my findings earlier because I wanted Old Ding to see us leave. The alternate personality is aware of the primary personality, and their memories are shared. Only by seeing us leave would the alternate personality feel safe enough to come out and read. We’ll wait a bit longer, and when the alternate personality emerges, we’ll go back and catch it in the act.”

he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...

ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"

u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”