Fang Chuan seemed to have run into some trouble. On the way to the Liu family's home, he called again. His ringtone echoed through the car, and Yan Xiu took out the phone and handed it to her.
Liu Mumu took it without hesitation and answered.
Fang Chuan's voice came through. "We just ran some tests. The old man died from a Gu, but none of the agents we have can kill these Gu."
Fortunately, they were experienced and had all worn protective suits when handling the body. Thinking of the densely packed black specks he had seen floating up from the blood on the floor, Fang Chuan felt his scalp crawl.
"Then leave it alone for now. Report the test results to headquarters."
Yan Xiu's solution made Fang Chuan pause. In the past, when something like this happened, they hadn't needed to go through the trouble of reporting it to headquarters. Headquarters would provide a solution, but it took time, and Yan Xiu usually handled things himself.
"Is this case troublesome?" Fang Chuan asked quietly.
"It's not troublesome, but it's dangerous. Tell our people to be careful."
"Got it." Fang Chuan didn't ask how Yan Xiu had concluded that it was dangerous without even being at the scene. As his partner, he trusted Yan Xiu completely.
After ending the call, Liu Mumu suddenly asked, "Was the auction this morning connected to this man's death?"
"Why would you think that?" Yan Xiu didn't answer. Instead, he asked her in return.
"There were a lot of people at the auction house this morning whose backgrounds were unclear. They were all there for that painting belonging to the Liu family. Then, in the afternoon, the painting's owner died. It's hard not to make some connection."
Liu Mumu traced the perfect lines of