Chapter 96: The Orange Cat Earns a Huge Merit
“Cat saw it crystal clear—that man often hit the little cubs! And he’d cover their mouths so they couldn’t cry!”
“Before, when that woman hadn’t disappeared yet, the man wouldn’t hit the cubs. But the cubs still didn’t dare to tattle… I really don’t know why!”
“After that woman showed up, the man hit them even more happily! And the new woman didn’t stop him—she just stood there grinning and watching!”
“Cat hates them!!!”
Everyone watched the chubby orange tabby rant at Lin Jiangye like a fire-breathing T-rex, meowing nonstop.
They couldn’t understand the words, but they absolutely understood the cat’s emotions.
“Uh… is it cursing you out, Consultant Lin?” asked the officer Captain Su had assigned to follow him. He’d heard of Lin Jiangye’s abilities, but he didn’t know what exactly had happened to turn a lazy fat cat into this furious.
Lin Jiangye waved his hand, signaling him not to speak yet.
Then he asked the tabby again, “What do you mean ‘if I hadn’t been there, the human cubs would’ve died already’?”
Did the man hit them so hard they were on the verge of death?
No. Not quite.
According to the cat, back when the first woman was still around, the man “only” beat the kids. And to avoid getting caught, he didn’t do it too obviously at first—no visible marks left behind.
The reason the cat knew this was because it had once tried to “tell” the woman. It tried to get the little cub to lift their clothes to show injuries, as a warning.
But that time, after the cat worked so hard and finally managed to flip up the cub’s shirt—the place that should’ve been bruised had no marks at all.
“That’s super weird!!!” The orange cat grew agitated again.
It paced in circles, yowling. If it hadn’t witnessed the man beating the cubs multiple times, it would’ve thought its own eyes were broken!
“How could it be gone? Why couldn’t I see it? Weird…” The cat didn’t understand. In its mind, if you got hit, there had to be injuries—otherwise why would the two cubs cry so miserably?
The more Lin Jiangye listened, the tighter his brows knit.
Seeing the cat obsess over this, Lin Jiangye quickly rubbed its head to break the loop. “Forget that for now. Go back to the times you said the cubs almost died.”
The cat’s attention shifted immediately.
What it meant by “almost killed” was that after the first woman disappeared, the man tried to smother the cubs to death.
That time, the orange cat happened to be perched in the tree outside the fourth floor. When it heard the cubs’ sounds getting weaker and weaker, it sensed something was wrong. Using the pipes and the uneven wall of the old building, it scrambled from the tree branch to the balcony—then swiped the man hard across the face!
“Hmph! That man still has cat-scratch marks on his face right now!”
Cat was smug. Cat was proud. Cat was the number-one best cat in the world.
But then its pride collapsed into dejection.
“But cat still couldn’t save the cubs…” The cat looked like it was about to burst into tears.
Lin Jiangye’s chest tightened. Those were two human children.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and called Qi Gaoyang directly, telling him: when the victims’ father arrived, check whether there were old scars from cat scratches on the right side of his face.
“I met a cat here. It said the father tried to smother the kids, but the cat scratched him and stopped it.”
If there was a scar, it matched the cat’s story.
And it wasn’t just that.
The cat had also seen the man try to shove the kids down the stairs. If the cat hadn’t been secretly watching—if it hadn’t jumped down and whacked the man right on the head—he might actually have done it.
Hearing that, Lin Jiangye drew a deep breath and hugged the orange cat, softly comforting it.
“I’ll catch the killer. I won’t let that disgusting man get away.”
The cat didn’t understand the exact phrase “get away,” but Lin Jiangye’s gritted-teeth tone made his stance obvious.
Lin Jiangye stroked the cat’s head again and asked gently, “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Anything about the children—anything at all. Some details might mean nothing to a cat but could be crucial clues to humans.
The cat didn’t understand human social roles, but it could clearly sense that this human could help the cubs—and help the cat get revenge on that hateful man.
So it poured out everything it remembered.
Earlier, it hadn’t paid that much attention. But after the twins’ mother died, the orange cat started watching them more closely—so it actually remembered quite a lot.
And sure enough, Lin Jiangye picked out several extremely important pieces of information.
“Thanks for your help,” Lin Jiangye said. “I’ll kill that man soon.”
As long as they found the key evidence, that man wasn’t walking away.
But just as Lin Jiangye turned to leave, the fat orange cat suddenly pounced onto him and unleashed a string of meow-meow sounds:
“Human! Cat thinks you’re very smart—how about cat raises you?”
Lin Jiangye: “Huh???”
Bixi: “Huh???”
Both the human and the raven wore identical shocked expressions. Especially Bixi—this was the first time it had ever seen an animal trying to “raise” a human… and the human in question was its dad!
After the shock, Lin Jiangye couldn’t help laughing. He pressed the tabby’s head down and gave it a vigorous rub, smiling.
“Nope. You can’t afford to raise me.”
The orange cat bristled, unconvinced.
“Human, do you eat a lot?”
Cats were great hunters! Mice on the ground, sparrows in the trees, bugs in the grass, even snakes—cat could catch them all!
Lin Jiangye didn’t answer. He simply opened his phone gallery.
On the screen was a group photo of him and all the animals at home.
“Raising me means raising them too.”
He was never alone.
The orange cat took one look—then took three steps back—then meowed as if nothing had happened and fled.
Hehe! Cat knows nothing~
As the orange cat disappeared, Lin Jiangye’s smile vanished. He sighed silently.
“Let’s go,” he told the officer with him. “We’re going to dig something up.”
The tabby had lived here for seven years—it had basically watched the twins grow up. That was why it remembered so much about them.
What a pity.
Their lives stopped at age six.
The buried diary
Based on the cat’s description, Lin Jiangye quickly led them to a small children’s playground behind the building.
He counted trees, stopped at the third one, and pointed at the ground under his feet.
“There might be the victims’ diary buried here. Dig.”
The local officer’s heart jumped. He didn’t know where Lin Jiangye got that information, and he was about to ask—when Bai Zhengwen silently pulled out a portable military shovel and started digging.
Lin Jiangye glanced at him. “Now’s not the time to ask questions.”
The officer shuddered, as if waking from a dream, and immediately joined in.
Soon enough, at about twenty to thirty centimeters down, they found a small metal box.
They opened it—inside was a notebook, with two names written on it.
Bai Zhengwen handed over gloves. Lin Jiangye put them on and carefully flipped through the pages.
It was filled with the children’s complaints and sobbing grievances toward their father.
The kids didn’t know many characters, so lots of words were written phonetically. Lin Jiangye and the others had to guess and piece things together—and the more they read, the more silent they became.
This diary recorded everything from after the mother’s death up until a few days ago.
Lin Jiangye flipped to the final entry. The date matched—five days ago, exactly in line with the forensic estimate.
“If this is confirmed as the children’s writing,” he said quietly, “then this is one of the pieces of evidence that nails the man for abuse and torture-killing.”
The local officer beside him was completely dazed.
Hearing that “Consultant Lin is impressive” was one thing. Watching it happen right in front of your eyes was something else entirely.
He’d watched Lin Jiangye meow with a fat orange cat for a while—and then, right under this tree, they dug up what looked like the victims’ hidden diary.
And that diary would push police attention squarely onto the father.
Lin Jiangye returned the diary to the metal box, and looking at it, his heart felt sour and heavy.
Bai Zhengwen knew why. Not just Lin Jiangye—everyone felt awful.
The twins had started writing because their kindergarten teacher suggested they keep a diary of what they wanted to say to their mother.
No one expected that, by sheer accident, it would become evidence exposing a killer.
Back to the apartment
They rushed up to the fourth floor and entered the children’s home.
Inside, the woman sitting across from Shang Fuyan and Captain Su was sweating hard, eyes darting everywhere—one look and you could tell she was up to no good.
Shang Fuyan and Captain Su didn’t look great either. The interrogation clearly hadn’t gone well.
The moment Lin Jiangye appeared, Shang Fuyan stood up immediately.
“Got something?”
Lin Jiangye lifted the metal box in his hand. The second it appeared, it drew every gaze in the room—even the woman couldn’t stop herself from staring at it.
Captain Su’s eyes widened, fixed on the box. “What is that?”
“The children’s diary,” Lin Jiangye said. “It records not only their missing their mom, but also their father beating and abusing them—and… more than once, trying to kill them.”
At those final words, the woman jerked her head up, staring at Lin Jiangye in disbelief—like she couldn’t understand how he’d found something like that.
A diary? Where did a diary come from? How could there be a diary?
Was this some trick the police were using to bait her?
But while she hesitated, Shang Fuyan and Captain Su both broke into delighted smiles.
They hadn’t expected Lin Jiangye to go out once and come back with such a crucial piece of physical evidence.
And when they opened the box and skimmed the thin notebook, then looked back at the woman again—
Their eyes became deep, sharp, and meaningfully heavy.
The woman was scared stiff by this, but at that point, no one felt even a shred of sympathy for her.
Captain Su placed the diary back inside, then handed the whole box to another officer. “Get this to Forensics right away.”
“And go to the children’s room and find samples of their handwriting.” With a simple comparison, they’d know whether the diary was really written by the two kids.
Two officers headed for the side bedroom. Seeing that, the woman tried to stop them—but the moment she lunged forward, Lin Jiangye caught her by the shoulder.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was gentle, but to her ears it sounded like the devil whispering.
While she was pinned, the two officers quickly found the children’s handwriting notebooks and sealed them into an evidence bag.
Now the woman’s gaze toward Lin Jiangye turned openly panicked.
She felt things slipping out of control. That man had sworn his plan was foolproof—so if it was truly foolproof, where had that diary in the metal box come from?
Had that bastard been lying to her?
Lin Jiangye handed the woman over to the others. Then he beckoned toward the doorway—and a massive canine padded slowly into the room.
The instant Su glanced at Tianheng, her brow twitched.
“This…” If she wasn’t mistaken, that was a wolf.
Since when could a wolf stroll through a city like a dog?
She looked at Shang Fuyan in confusion. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned in, quietly explaining where Tianheng came from and what it had accomplished. Then he patted her shoulder.
“Relax. It’s already been given special authorization.”
Hearing that, Su finally let out a breath.
Even so, her eyes kept circling Tianheng, as if afraid the wolf might suddenly snap and attack.
Tianheng felt the burning stare, but this kind of thing wasn’t new to it.
Now that they had the diary, the police weren’t limited to questioning anymore. The man was officially a suspect, not “the victims’ family.”
Once he was a suspect—and this might be a crime scene—they could begin a full search.
And in a search like that, it was Tianheng and Bixi’s turn to shine.
After the island case in Yue City, Tianheng had become exceptionally sensitive to corpses, blood, and anything with an abnormal stench.
It didn’t take long. Together, it and Bixi found something off.
It was a rusty tin cookie box, dug out from under the master bedroom bed by Tianheng.
Tianheng let out a low howl. When Lin Jiangye came over, it tapped the box lightly with one paw.
“Master, there’s a strange smell in this box!”
Lin Jiangye picked it up and weighed it in his hands. Whatever was inside had some heft.
He pried the lid open with both hands, revealing a black bag.
At the same time, a faint metallic rust smell mixed with a rancid, fishy stench drifted out.
Lin Jiangye recognized it instantly: the smell of old blood.
He carefully opened the bag. Inside were half a ruler, half a rolling pin, and half a branch about two fingers thick.
All of them were broken-off pieces—like someone had deliberately snapped them and stored the blood-stained halves away as trophies.
Fine. Not “like.” They were absolutely cut on purpose, specifically to keep the blood-soaked ends.
Lin Jiangye’s brows drew together again. He didn’t know whose blood it was, but anyone who collected something this disgusting had to be seriously sick.
The others stared at the items and all wore the same disgusted expression.
Captain Su glanced back at the woman. The woman looked just as shocked and repulsed as they did—she genuinely seemed to have no idea those things were hidden under the bed.
“Take it back and test it,” Su said. “Looks like the suspect hid it, but we still need to know whose blood it is—and why he kept it.”
Tianheng found the tin box, and Bixi found something else—tucked along the side of the bookshelf: a photograph.
It was an old photo with just two people, a man and a woman, standing close with their arms over each other’s shoulders.
Bixi handed it to Lin Jiangye. After looking at it, he asked Captain Su, “Are these the victims’ parents?”
Su examined it carefully, then shook her head. “The woman is the victims’ mother—the one who died a month ago. But… the man isn’t their father.”
The father, Wu Yi, was thinner and only slightly taller than the mother—around 172 centimeters.
But the man in the photo was tall, handsome, sunny, and outgoing. He didn’t resemble Wu Yi at all.
So who was he? Why was he so intimate with the mother? And why was this photo hidden in the master bedroom?
As questions piled up, the officers’ headaches only got worse.
The suspect’s lover stared blankly at the photo and the bloody objects, looking completely stunned—like she’d never known this bedroom held so many secrets.
Captain Su looked at the evidence they’d unearthed and suddenly felt an intense urge to go to Yue City and sit in on the suspect’s interrogation.
She genuinely wanted to know: what had that man been thinking when he did this to two children? What else was he hiding?
After the first sweep, Lin Jiangye didn’t think there was much more to dig out. His gaze slowly shifted to the woman.
“What did you get out of her?”
Shang Fuyan shook his head. She looked guilty as hell, but her mouth was sealed shut. Up to the moment Lin Jiangye returned, they hadn’t cracked anything.
“But she probably wasn’t directly involved in the murder,” Shang Fuyan added. It was only a guess, not a confirmed fact.
Oddly enough, Captain Su felt the same.
The woman definitely knew something—but what she “knew” was only the result the man wanted. As for how it was done… she didn’t seem to know.
In other words: she knew the biological father wanted to kill his own kids, but she didn’t know how, where, or what he did with the tools afterward.
As they laid it out point by point, the woman began shaking violently.
It was the first time she’d felt how terrifying the police could be. She hadn’t said a word—so why did it feel like she’d already been stripped bare?
Captain Su watched her reaction and a cold smile slowly formed on her face.
“Bring her in too.”
Whether she was “in on it” or not, they could still learn when she started seeing him—and that alone mattered.
And maybe they could finally get the answer to the biggest question: why a man would do this to his own children.
The woman was close to breaking. She’d kept quiet because she truly believed the man had cleaned everything up—left no trace.
But now?
Yeah. “Foolproof,” my ass. “Love you forever,” my ass. If he really loved her, why would he have hidden all those secrets in that bedroom?
Tears and snot poured down her face; she was a mess. When the police moved to take her away, she panicked and tried to fling herself at Captain Su to beg.
But Captain Su wasn’t soft. If she went soft on a possible accomplice, then who was going to show softness to the two dead children?
“Take her.”
That icy command shattered the woman completely. Crying and screaming, she was shoved into the patrol car.
After she was gone, Captain Su finally explained to Lin Jiangye, “Let her stew. It’ll make interrogation easier later.”
If you give her an inch right now, she might still feed you half-truths.
Lin Jiangye nodded. He didn’t know police interrogation methods—and precisely because he didn’t, he never interfered.
The apartment was sealed. Tianheng and Bixi hadn’t smelled fresh blood, but they still couldn’t rule out the possibility that this had been part of the crime scene.
Then Captain Su led Lin Jiangye along the route the children would take home from kindergarten.
“Captain Su,” Lin Jiangye asked, “have you checked some of the rivers and channels upstream along the Tongji River?”
The coroner had said it clearly: the kids were drugged with sleeping pills, stuffed into the suitcase, and tossed into the water.
Honestly, that whole sequence didn’t take much time.
As for the sedative, it could be mixed into milk or a drink and coaxed down without trouble.
“And since Jiangye says a cat saw the suspect abuse the kids multiple times,” Shang Fuyan added, “did the children ever tell their kindergarten teachers?”
If they did, did a teacher remember? If they didn’t… why didn’t they ever seek help from outsiders?
Captain Su had only just heard about the abuse herself.
The station report from the original missing-person case hadn’t included anything like that—either it had been concealed, or the officers back then hadn’t taken it seriously.
As for Lin Jiangye’s first question, the answer was brutal: there were simply too many waterways.
Even on the route from the kindergarten to the suspect’s home, there were countless places where the river could be reached.
Not only the main tributary—there were also narrow channels and little streams everywhere.
And it was spring flood season. The current was fast and high. Washing a suitcase downstream wasn’t hard at all.
Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan fell silent.
If they were the killer, they could hand the kids a sedative-laced drink right after school. Once the kids were out cold, they could pull over, pack them, and dump the suitcase into a nearby river in minutes.
If that stretch of road had no cameras, then those “minutes” wouldn’t even raise suspicion.
Even if someone happened to see it—who would know the suitcase contained children?
It was just a suitcase. No sound. A splash, and it was gone.
And even in the worst case—someone saw it and questioned him—he could simply claim he was tossing old junk.
If they didn’t believe him, so what?
Go ahead—fish the suitcase back out of the river.
