My Dear Forensic Scientist (GL) - Chapter 7

“So boring, so boring. When will a real case finally come in…” Lin Yan twisted restlessly in her chair while painting her nails.

From the desk in front, Duan Cheng turned back.
“Sis, about yesterday’s injury assessment—”

“Injury assessment isn’t a case. I’m a forensic doctor, not a physician.”

Lin Yan blew on her freshly painted nails, lifted her hand toward the sunset, the pale skin setting off the bright red polish against her slender, distinct knuckles. She was quite satisfied.

Zheng Chengrui, his face slick with oil, turned around too.
“Then what counts as a case?”

He had only asked out of curiosity. Fang Xin wanted to stop him, but it was already too late.

Sure enough—

“Serial killings, dismemberment and cooking, family massacres… only that level counts as a case.”

After she said that, the whole office fell silent. Everyone looked at her without speaking. Fang Xin’s expression clearly showed disapproval, but for some reason, he held his tongue.

The air turned heavy.

But Lin Yan never cared about others’ opinions. She actually preferred everyone in the world to think she was crazy—a monster—so they’d keep their respectful distance.

When the clock on the wall ticked past six, she shot to her feet, tossed her uniform jacket onto the chair, and said,
“Ah, freedom at last. I’m out. Bye, everyone.”

She walked away without a backward glance, leaving behind whispers.

“This Lin Yan—always late, always leaving early, never doing a lick of work, and she even dares to say stuff like that. She’s the disgrace of the civil service.”

Someone fumed.

“Just yesterday, I saw her kissing someone at the bureau entrance. Does she think the Public Security Bureau is her own front door?”

“If a tree loses its bark it dies; if a person loses shame, they’re invincible. But hey, with her family background… I took three years to get into the bureau. And her? Heh.”

The gossip grew louder and sharper until Song Yuhang quietly stood, hanging her coat on the rack.

Voices fell silent, the topic shifting to her.

“Captain Song, leaving so early today?”

“Mm. I have something to do.”

Just then, Zhang Jinhai strolled in with his teacup.
“Blind date, right?”

She answered flatly, “Mm.”

“Well, Captain Song, you’re already past thirty. Time you got married and had kids. Set an example for the younger ones, you know? Otherwise the Economic Crime guys will keep calling us the bachelor squad.”

The Criminal Investigation Division wasn’t big, mostly young guys. Aside from Zhang Jinhai, married with kids, everyone was single. He rarely worked field cases himself anymore, let alone legwork.

The others chuckled and teased. Song Yuhang showed no change in expression, merely nodded and brushed past, car keys in hand.

As usual, Lin Yan’s post-shift plan was a few drinks. She pulled out her phone and messaged Lin Ge.

“Eight o’clock, Landy?”

The reply came quickly:
“Can’t. I’ve got an appointment.”

“Blind date?”

Lin Ge sent back an anguished emoji.

Lin Yan’s fingers itched:
“Want me to come check him out for you?”

“Please, no. Have mercy, dear aunt. I’d like to at least have a pleasant dinner.”

Given Lin Yan’s personality, who knew what chaos she’d stir up.

She typed, deleted, then finally sent:
“Alright then. Good luck.”

No reply came. Lin Yan tossed the phone aside, leaned back in her seat. The city lights streamed past, reflected in the car window, outlining a faintly lonely look on her face.

The chauffeur asked, “Miss, heading home?”

“No. Just drive around.”

At home she’d only lock herself in the attic again, numbing with alcohol and sleeping pills.

She truly was tired of this life, but still dragged herself through it—like a lunatic.

Lin Yan’s lips curved in a mocking smile.

The car rolled quietly along. She turned her head, watching the kaleidoscope of neon, glimpsing the city’s true face.

Fourteen years gone.

Skyscrapers now towered high, roads stretched wider, rush-hour traffic clogged under flashing lights, while suited office workers hurried by, briefcases in hand.

Teenagers in blue-and-white school uniforms jostled playfully across the street. A ponytailed girl tugged on her friend’s braids, laughter mixing with the freshness of early summer air.

Lin Yan’s gaze lingered. She watched as the two stopped outside a Western restaurant, peeking in through the window.

“You hungry?”

“Mm. A little.”

“Then let’s eat here.”

“Better not. This place is too expensive.”

For a moment, Lin Yan wasn’t sure if she was watching the past—or the future.

When she came back to herself, she was already standing at the restaurant entrance.

The two girls had vanished.

She looked up at the sign: Nanchan.

An old establishment, still carrying its poetic name. Renovated, but the ancient signboard remained, neither renamed nor relocated all these years.

For some reason, a wave of bittersweet kinship washed over her, laced with relief.

So she wasn’t the only one clinging to memories of this city.

“One sirloin steak, Caesar salad, your finest red wine. Thank you.” Lin Yan closed the menu and handed it back.

“What sauce for the steak, miss?”

“Black truffle butter.”

The answer slipped out instinctively. She frowned sharply.

The waiter mistook it as hesitation and rushed to suggest alternatives. Lin Yan waved him off.

Not far away, another waiter led someone in.
“Mr. Lin, this way please. We’ve reserved your table. Shall we serve the dishes now?”

“No, my guest hasn’t arrived yet. I’ll wait for her to order.”

That voice was familiar. Lin Yan put down her knife and fork, turned.
“Lin Ge?”

“Lin Yan!”

The suited man’s eyes lit up as he strode over and sat opposite.
“What a coincidence!”

“Very coincidental.”

They hadn’t seen each other since she’d gone abroad. Both had shed their youthful awkwardness.

She remembered the old “Four-Eyed Frog” with his bowl-cut hair, thick glasses, always sniffling, never fighting back when she bullied him—unlike her rebellious self, he’d been the model student.

Now, years later, he looked every bit the polished elite: glasses gone, a neat crew cut, sharp suit, perfectly knotted tie.

Lin Yan smacked her lips.
“So you didn’t study abroad, you just got plastic surgery, huh?”

“Go to hell.”

His illusion—that she had grown prettier, more mature—shattered instantly by her poisonous tongue.

Lin Yan was still Lin Yan.

“Your cousin here is a man of unparalleled charm, elegance, and brilliance—”

His clear voice somehow made the boast sound natural, even likeable.

As if Lin Ge was simply born to be sunny and bright.

Lin Yan pretended to gag, then cut him off:
“Stop with the ‘cousin’ talk. I’ve got nothing to do with the Lin family.”

“Then what do you have to do with?”

“Money. You know that. Money’s my only kin.”

“….” He’d seen shameless, but this was next-level.

Lin Yan never failed to separate things cleanly—rejecting the family name while never refusing its wealth.

Righteous in her hypocrisy.

His phone buzzed. Checking the time, he stood.
“Alright, I won’t waste words. Done eating?”

Her steak was barely touched.
“About ready to go.”

“I’ll order a bottle of Lafite. Stay and drink. Since you’re here, don’t rush off. You’re good at sizing people up, right? Help me judge my date. My mom swore she’d break my legs if this one fails.”

“…Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Lin Yan swung a playful fist, which he dodged nervously, before signaling the waiter. He grimaced as she ordered the most expensive wine.

“You’re ruthless. Just wait until you get married—I’ll bleed you dry.”

Lounging with a glass of wine worth nearly fifty grand, Lin Yan smirked.
“Try in the next life.”

“…I regret this. Can I kick you out?”

She lifted her glass in a mock toast.
“Easier to invite a god than send one away, Lin Young Master.”

At 7:55, Song Yuhang parked nearby. At 8:00 sharp, she entered the restaurant.

Lin Ge rose, waving.
“Miss Song, over here.”

From the next booth, Lin Yan arched a brow. Song… inevitably, she thought of that cold-faced officer. A shiver ran down her spine; she gulped her wine.

Soon, a soft voice returned the menu.
“That’ll be all, thank you.”

Pleasant, calm, soothing.

But why did it sound so familiar?

“Sorry, my mother made the arrangements. I hope it’s not too much trouble—”

Lin Ge chuckled, pouring her water instead of coffee.
“To be honest, my mom too…”

They exchanged a look, both smiling knowingly. Clearly, both had been dragged into this.

Song Yuhang quietly exhaled.

As protocol went, after age and profession, the next step was hobbies.

“What does Mr. Lin do for fun?” she asked.

“Not much. Bowling, swimming, working out. Or reading at home. What about Miss Song?”

“Kickboxing. And reading.”

Kickboxing? That hardcore?

Wouldn’t that mean she’d be the one doing the domestic violence?

Lin Yan snorted inwardly.

Through the low sofa partition, she could practically feel the awkwardness wafting over.

Lin Ge forced a laugh.
“What books do you read, Miss Song? Maybe we have common ground.”

She hesitated, then answered honestly:
“The Interpretation of Dreams, Crime and Personality, Criminal Profiling, and other bits and pieces.”

These were already her “light” reading. Most people wouldn’t even recognize the titles.

Lin Ge smiled anyway, following her lead.
“No wonder. You’re impressive. I tried Freud’s Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis, but halfway through I just couldn’t stay awake.”

Song Yuhang blinked. In past blind dates, whenever she mentioned these books, men either looked utterly lost, or disdainful, lecturing her that women should read romance or parenting guides.

Lin Ge was the first man outside her profession to actually praise her.

“Really? Even half of Introductory Lectures is already admirable.”

What the hell—Criminal Profiling? Is she a psychopath?

Lin Yan stretched her ears. Now she was intrigued.

The atmosphere thawed. Lin Ge, naturally sociable, grew relaxed once he realized she wasn’t serious about marriage either. Conversation flowed.

“You know, when Aunt Wang came to me for dental work, I didn’t realize she was your mom’s friend. Then later you found my mom’s wallet. Quite the fate, isn’t it?”

Song Yuhang’s lips curved slightly.
“Yes. But as a police officer, no matter whose wallet it was, I’d return it.”

Lin Yan nearly choked. Seriously? No sense of romance!

If it were her, she’d have rolled with it—“fate, fate”—until it landed them in bed.

Wait.

Police.

Surname Song.

Could it really be…?

Every hair on Lin Yan’s body stood on end. She sputtered into a coughing fit, wine choking her throat.

The commotion made Lin Ge push food toward her.
“Eat, eat. You must be hungry.”

Internal monologue: Lin Yan, what the hell are you doing?

She sneezed, wiped her nose, then with grim determination, climbed onto the sofa back.

Song Yuhang felt a gaze prickling on her. She glanced up, but Lin Ge was calmly battling his steak.

Couldn’t be him.

She frowned, slowly lifted her head—

And found Lin Yan peering down at her from over the partition.

Their eyes locked.

“Dr. Lin,” Song Yuhang said coolly.

Lin Yan screamed like a banshee:
“Brother, I don’t approve of this relationship!!!”

Lin Ge spat wine all over his pricey suit, hacking like he’d caught tuberculosis.

He looked from Lin Yan beside him to the impassive Song Yuhang opposite.
“You two…?”

His mind filled with a giant question mark.

“Are you after our family’s money? I’ll give you ten million to leave my brother. Don’t ever see him again!”

Lin Yan never imagined such melodramatic soap-opera lines would come out of her own mouth.

“Uh…” Lin Ge tried to speak.

One sharp glare from her silenced him instantly. He sipped his wine and metaphorically taped his mouth shut.

Song Yuhang’s gaze lingered, noting how different they looked, yet both carried that innate air of wealth and privilege.

Normally she’d have walked away. But this time, she wanted to puncture Lin Yan’s arrogance—to show her money couldn’t fix everything.

“I’m not interested in your money. I can earn my own. I think your brother’s a good man—gentle, considerate, husband material.”

Lin Yan was aghast.
“That’s because you don’t know his other side! He doesn’t wash his socks or feet in summer, runs around stinking, once flipped a neighbor girl’s skirt, and he’s got a whole room full of dirty manga—”

Before she could finish, Lin Ge clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Sorry, Miss Song. Please don’t mind her. Really, don’t.”

Then through gritted teeth:
“You’re done for. Just wait until Uncle Lin hears about this.”

Lin Yan pried his hand off, snapping,
“Our family’s full of strict rules! You’ll regret marrying in!”

Song Yuhang reclined slightly, calm.
“That’s fine. I’m marrying him, not your family. And certainly not you.”

Implying: mind your own business.

The thought of having to call her “sister-in-law” at family gatherings made Lin Yan choke on her rage.

In a fit of desperation, she blurted,
“You can’t marry him—he’s gay! A sham marriage won’t bring happiness!”

The whole restaurant froze. A waiter nearly dropped his tray.

Lin Ge exploded.
“Lin Yan, enough!”

“I—” She bit her lip, deflated. “I didn’t… I just… sigh…”

Seeing her look almost pitiful, Song Yuhang’s eyes glinted with a trace of amusement, though her face remained calm.

“Straight or gay, what does it matter? I’m not young anymore, Dr. Lin. I think your brother would be a responsible husband.”

Lin Yan gritted her teeth, turning stiffly toward Lin Ge.
“Didn’t you say you like clever, lively, cute girls?!”

And Song Yuhang was none of those!

“I think Miss Song is wonderful. Marriage isn’t dating.”

Song Yuhang lowered her head, hiding a sudden laugh. When she looked up, her expression was back to neutral, as Lin Yan’s glare bored into her.

As a successful, face-conscious man, Lin Ge wouldn’t contradict her in front of Song Yuhang—not after she’d just complimented him.

“She’s rigid, uptight! She’ll control you to death!”

“No, I think she’d be a great homemaker.”

“She does kickboxing! Aren’t you afraid she’ll beat you someday?!”

“I trust she won’t.”

Song Yuhang ducked her head, sipping water to avoid his gaze. Mention of kickboxing made her skull ache faintly—she hadn’t forgotten the morning’s incident.

Lin Yan seethed. She had more to say, but Song Yuhang set down her glass and looked straight at her.

Her eyes were a pale shade, gleaming almost like glass under the warm light.

She wasn’t in uniform tonight. Just a simple white shirt, tailored to her slim waist and shoulders.

When she wasn’t tormenting people, she could actually look quite good.

Lin Yan was just thinking this when Song Yuhang spoke:

“Dr. Lin, do you really hate me that much?”