Chapter 2: The Identity of the Deceased Is Confirmed
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Xia Wuyou stared in astonishment, recognizing the lost soul before her instantly from the news video she had just watched—it was the boy who perished in the bus explosion! Despite the severe burns that ravaged him, traces of his anxious, youthful face remained visible.
Xia Wuyou could hardly believe her own eyes. All it took was one unprecedented ride on the bus, and yet another restless spirit had found its way into her home!
“Don’t cry! Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, looking at the aggrieved boy, on the verge of tears, and feeling utterly at a loss. Meanwhile, Tangdou’er, her spirit-sensitive dog, barked relentlessly at him.
But the young soul seemed able to express his sorrow only through loud, mournful wails. After all, the living and the dead walk different paths; apart from anxiously keeping him company, Xia Wuyou could do nothing.
After a while, perhaps exhausted from crying, the boy curled up next to Tangdou’er’s dog bed and fell asleep.
Xia Wuyou now understood that the bus explosion was no ordinary accident.
She remembered that the detective responsible for the case was Su Tianmu. Determined, she resolved to visit the police station the next day and take up her other identity—“The Outsider Sherlock.”
The police investigation was proceeding with urgency. Although the bus was heavily damaged, careful examination had yielded many items left behind, sorted and catalogued.
Due to the explosion and fire, most things were deformed or charred, requiring time and effort to identify. Meanwhile, Su Tianmu and his team were meticulously verifying the identities of all the victims.
Of the five deceased, only one was female; the other four included the boy and three middle-aged men.
After thorough checking, the identities of the five victims were mostly confirmed.
The female victim was a locally renowned internet personality. She had a husband and a three-year-old son, but her days were spent addicted to streaming, rarely leaving home. This outing, it was said, was to meet a fan—tragically coinciding with the explosion.
The three other middle-aged men were coworkers from a construction site. All were on leave and had agreed to spend the day in the city, returning late to their dormitory and boarding this ill-fated last bus.
The young boy, it was discovered, was a junior high student about to take his exams. Teachers described him as a model student, both in conduct and academics. His parents had divorced when he was young, and his grandmother raised him, leading to a life of hardship. That night, he stayed late at school to study, returning home later than usual, only to embark on a journey from which he would never return.
When his grandmother learned of his tragic death, she succumbed to the shock and fell ill, hospitalized herself.
The bus driver, sole survivor, remained comatose in the hospital. Investigation revealed him to be an ordinary driver, with nothing suspicious.
Su Tianmu reviewed the list of injured and the detailed backgrounds, and when his eyes fell upon the boy’s family situation, a glimmer of tears appeared at the corner of his eye.
On his sharply defined, almost sculpted face, the marks of years of sternness were hard to erase. This sudden show of tenderness stood in stark contrast to his usual cold demeanor.
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Fortunately, no one witnessed this moment.
Equally unable to calm her feelings for the young victim, Xia Wuyou, swift as the wind, appeared before him.
“We’re partners, aren’t we?” Xia Wuyou grasped Su Tianmu’s hand.
“Let me help you solve the case!”
Still immersed in his emotions, Su Tianmu didn’t respond immediately. When he realized Xia Wuyou was holding his hand tightly, he instinctively pulled away.
“What’s gotten into you this time?” Su Tianmu looked at her in confusion.
“The bus explosion yesterday—I saw it in the video! Do you know? That boy is in my house right now!”
Su Tianmu stared at her, bewildered. He knew she was a kind-hearted girl, but police work wasn’t something he needed to report to her for every case.
“The boy you mean—is he the one who died in the explosion?”
Yet Su Tianmu’s words betrayed his reason, flung far aside.
After their previous experience, he had come to accept that Xia Wuyou could see ghosts, as hard as it was to believe.
“Of course. It’s him!” Xia Wuyou was delighted that Su Tianmu understood her.
“Did he give you any clues?” Su Tianmu pressed, eager to know the truth.
Xia Wuyou replied, a bit deflated, “No, he just kept crying.”
“But I can sense that this isn’t just a simple accident. There must be something hidden—otherwise, he wouldn’t be so aggrieved.” She raised her head suddenly, speaking with conviction.
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“But, what’s wrong with you?” Xia Wuyou noticed something glistening at the corner of Su Tianmu’s eye and reached out curiously.
“You’re crying?” she asked in surprise, seeing the teardrop on her fingertip.
Su Tianmu was startled by her unexpected gesture, his face flushing as he slapped her hand away.
“What are you doing?” Xia Wuyou found his flustered expression both tender and amusing.
Yet, faced with such a grave matter, neither felt inclined to joke.
Su Tianmu handed Xia Wuyou the victims’ information, regretfully telling her that nothing suspicious had yet been found.
The two sat quietly at the desk, neither speaking another word, both enveloped in silence.
Perhaps, after so much time together, Su Tianmu now truly regarded her as a friend.
“Actually, I once had a younger brother. He was always outstanding—more so than me,” he began.
“We were very close, always open with each other. But when he was sixteen, there was a sudden accident, and he died.”
Su Tianmu gazed out the window, his eyes hollow, as if recounting a story belonging to someone else.
Xia Wuyou turned to him in shock, seeing the sorrow in his face and feeling an inexplicable ache in her heart.
Instinctively, she raised her hand, wanting to touch his handsome face, but suddenly became aware of herself and withdrew quickly.
Though they sat close, there was still a great distance between them.