Mornings in Wugang City are always gray. The sea fog, like a silent curtain, veils the city's clamor behind a thin layer.
The streetlights were still on, their orange glow flickering faintly in the humid air.
Lin Lan stood outside the cordon, her gaze piercing the crowd and the cordon to the body covered in white cloth.
She removed her gloves and checked her watch—06:17.
This was the third "suicide" this month, and the method of death was consistent: wrist slashing, blood loss, and no signs of struggle. But she knew in her heart—
This was not suicide.
"Officer Lin, there's that message this time too," the young forensic assistant whispered, handing her the phone screen.
On the screen was a note left by the deceased. The handwriting was distorted, the ink dried.
[I Saw the Light]
She stared at the words, silent for a few seconds. As if listening to something.
The wind blew through the fog, and she heard a faint whisper.
It wasn't an illusion—it was a sound she'd occasionally heard since the case three years ago.
It was vague, soft, like the breathing of memory.
"Light..." she murmured, a slight frown between her brows.
"What do you think connects these three cases?" the assistant asked.
Lin Lan didn't answer immediately. Instead, she slowly squatted down and lifted the white cloth.
The deceased was a man in his thirties, his face calm, the corners of his lips slightly raised, as if he had died with a smile.
Her fingertips touched the dead man's wrist. The warmth had long since dissipated, but she still felt a chill creeping through her palm.
"He was smiling," she whispered, "but the blood vessels in his eyes were burst."
The assistant was stunned. "What do you mean?"
"It means he experienced extreme fear before his death." Her voice was low and steady. "And this fear is triggered by being 'seen.'"
"Seen by whom?"
Lin Lan straightened up and looked at the billboards looming between the high-rise buildings of Wugang City.
On that screen, a public service announcement from the Psychological Research Institute was playing.
—[The Enlightenment Project: Using Psychological Light Therapy to Regain the Light of the Soul]—
She narrowed her eyes.
She had seen this name in the files of three deaths over the past two months.
Wugang Police Station, Serious Crime Unit Office
The office lights were always on a cool white.
Lin Lan's desk was piled high with files, each case file meticulously organized.
Colleagues said she was "like a machine," uninterested in anyone or anything except the cases.
But only she knew she was using her reason to plug a crack—
and on the other side of that crack was her father's death.
"You've been up all night again, haven't you?" Captain Shen Nan pushed open the door, his tone a matter-of-fact statement.
"I'm used to it." She didn't look up.
"I've read the forensic report, and the cause of death is indeed blood loss. There are no signs of external force, no drug reaction."
"So the conclusion is—suicide."
Lin Lan paused and whispered, "Do you believe in coincidences?"
Shen Nan sighed. "You suspect these people were psychologically manipulated? That sounds a bit too absurd."
"But the absurd is often the truth." She raised her eyes, her gaze sharp as a knife. "Three people, different in age, profession, and personality, yet they left the same last words before their deaths. And one thing in common—they all underwent psychological testing from the 'Mingxin Project' a week before their deaths."
Shen Nan was silent for a moment. "Do you want to open an investigation?"
"I want to find out what light they saw."
Evening · Mingxin Psychological Institute
The institute is located in a glass-walled high-rise building in Wugang North District.
A soft blue logo hangs at the entrance: [Mingxin Institute MIND LUX] Let light shine into every heart.
The receptionist wore a professional smile. "Officer Lin, right? We've cooperated with the police on multiple investigations."
"I'm just looking at a list," Lin Lan said calmly. "Participants in the psychological experiments over the past month."
The receptionist hesitated slightly and turned to ask for instructions. A moment later, a man in a white coat emerged from the elevator.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses, had a gentle demeanor, and a remarkably steady voice.
"I'm Lu Qian, the director of the research institute. I heard you're interested in our 'light therapy experiment'?"
Lin Lan studied him for a few seconds. "I'm interested in the dead."
Lu Qian smiled and pushed his glasses up nonchalantly.
"Everyone dies, Officer. But seeing light before death might be a blessing."
At that moment, she saw a fleeting, eerie flash in his eyes—like a reflected flame, or... some kind of mechanical reflection.
She realized something: Lu Qian wasn't speaking metaphorically.
---
Night · Lin Lan's Apartment
She leaned against the window, turning an old pocket watch left by her father. The dial stopped at 10:32, the time of her father's death. As the clock chimed softly, her phone vibrated.
An unfamiliar number.
She picked up, and heard faint breathing on the other end.
Then, a deep male voice spoke:
"Did you see the light, too?"
The phone hung up.
The fog outside the window thickened, and the distant advertising screen flickered again—
[The Enlightenment Plan—Let the Light Guide You Forward.]
Lin Lan raised her head, her lips curling slightly in a barely perceptible sneer.
She murmured softly:
"Then I'll go see what lies at the end of the light..."