Chapter 6: The Human Skin List

The woman who committed suicide with concentrated sulfuric acid was the wife of forensic expert Zheng Wei. When I heard this from Jin Ze, my heart tightened instantly.

To be honest, I was utterly bewildered—not only because Zheng Wei and his wife were dead, but because they were my neighbors, living just upstairs from me. This made the string of murders feel ever more intimately connected to my life.

I then asked Jin Ze about the connection between these cases, explaining that I had never even met the Zheng couple before. If the killer was targeting me, it made no sense. Yet, after my girlfriend was murdered, the possible perpetrator did start reaching out to me, drawing me into the case. What was the link between these seemingly unrelated deaths?

Jin Ze listened to my words, narrowed his eyes in thought, and then suddenly spoke: “Chen Mu, what you said before in the autopsy room might be right. Zheng Wei may have been killed not only because he discovered evidence, but for other reasons—perhaps he was one of the intended victims all along. He must have some connection to Fang Lin or Liu Yang, maybe even knew them.”

After saying this, Jin Ze glanced at Chen Jing’s corpse not far away and continued, “With this suicide, we don’t need a search warrant. I’m going to search Zheng Wei’s home.”

He left the living room and headed for the other rooms, and I, curious, followed him. No one stopped me—it was strange, as if I could actually help Jin Ze.

But after searching the place, Jin Ze didn’t find anything amiss. The study, bathroom, even the refrigerator—all looked like those of a normal household.

Just as we were about to leave Zheng Wei’s bedroom, Jin Ze suddenly stopped and turned his gaze toward the cosmetics on the dressing table.

There were many bottles—large and small—which was nothing unusual for a woman. But these cosmetics were different; the bottles were elegant, but none bore labels or brands.

Considering the Zhengs’ status, I doubted they’d use secondhand cosmetics. Suddenly, inspiration struck me. I remembered He Ping mentioning that Liu Yang was a small-scale cosmetics manufacturer. Could these products be the link between Zheng Wei’s family and Liu Yang?

As I pondered, Jin Ze picked up a bottle—probably perfume—and sprayed it in the air. The subtle, alluring scent was anything but harsh, surely a high-end product, not some cheap knockoff.

Then he grabbed a bottle of cream, squeezed out a bit, and, catching me off guard, smeared it onto my arm.

Jin Ze’s fingers were long and slender, almost feminine, smooth as jade. When he rubbed the cream on my skin, a shiver ran through me and I was momentarily dazed.

I quickly pulled my arm back and eyed him suspiciously, suddenly wondering if Jin Ze was some kind of pervert.

So I asked, “What are you doing? Why are you touching me?”

Jin Ze simply smiled and replied, “Chen Mu, what do you think of these cosmetics?”

I answered, “They must be high-end, but I don’t know much about such things. Why don’t you try them yourself instead of smearing them on me? It’s disgusting.”

He suddenly dropped the smile and raised his voice, “Chen Mu, how would you feel if the lotion rubbed onto your skin was made from human flesh?”

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I was startled by what he said, instinctively shaking my arm to fling off the cream, desperately wiping it away.

As I wiped, I said to Jin Ze, “Don’t scare me! That’s impossible—how revolting.”

Jin Ze watched me and continued, “Exactly, that’s the reaction. If an ordinary person discovered their cosmetics were made from human flesh, that what they put on their skin every day came from corpses, they’d be horrified—disgusted by their own skin, maybe even develop psychological disorders, some might destroy it.”

At first I didn’t understand Jin Ze’s point, but soon it hit me. He meant these cosmetics were made from corpses, and Chen Jing had just learned this today. With her psychological issues, she’d done something so twisted and tragic—destroyed her own skin and then committed suicide.

To be honest, Jin Ze’s analysis was bold, but it made sense, though I still thought it unlikely. How could cosmetics possibly be made from human flesh?

Soon Jin Ze called Miao Miao over, instructing her to collect the cosmetics for testing.

He then said that, since Chen Jing chose to commit suicide today, she must have just discovered something was wrong. There must be some detail he’d overlooked, so he searched the room again.

This time, he crawled under the bed. Soon, he seemed to find something, working under there for a while as if dismantling something.

A few minutes later, Jin Ze dragged out a large metal box from beneath the bed. We hadn’t seen it during our earlier search—it must have been embedded in the bed frame.

Jin Ze opened the box immediately, and I peered in, curious. What I saw made me gasp.

Inside was a large bone and a folded piece of leather.

Since Miao Miao was now in the room, Jin Ze asked her to examine the bone.

Miao Miao, wearing white gloves, picked up the bone. It was about half a meter long and rather thick—not the bone of an ordinary animal.

Soon Miao Miao spoke: “This is a human femur.”

My heart leapt—so Zheng Wei was a maniac, hiding a human thigh bone under his bed, possibly stolen using his position.

Even more horrifying, Miao Miao then took the item I had thought was a leather jacket. When she unfolded it, I realized it was indeed leather, but not clothing—rather, it was a complete piece of human skin.

Even Miao Miao, usually unflappable and icy as a forensic doctor, was momentarily stunned—her hand trembled, though she quickly recovered and said to Jin Ze, “This appears to be a sheet of human skin, peeled whole from a corpse and air-dried.”

Then she turned the skin over, and I noticed that the back bore several lines written in blood.

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I hurried over with Jin Ze to look, and after reading it my scalp tingled and I shivered—it was a ledger written on human skin.

It listed: corpse oil—skin serum, bone marrow—perfume, liver—liver oil, breast—body lotion… a record detailing which parts of the human body were used to make each cosmetic.

My stomach churned; I nearly vomited. Jin Ze was right—the cosmetics were truly made from corpses.

Now I understood why Chen Jing had mutilated herself. She must have been unable to accept the truth. But Chen Jing wasn’t normal; an ordinary person might only vomit, not commit such extreme acts, let alone record their own death.

Perhaps Chen Jing had some secret pain, unable to call the police, and could only leave a death video as a clue for investigators.

Then I thought of Zheng Wei—this must be his connection to Liu Yang.

Zheng Wei and Liu Yang must have been accomplices; Zheng Wei helped Liu Yang manufacture these human-based cosmetics.

If they produced such cosmetics in quantity, how many people would need to die?

Truly a den of monsters—people flock together, like attracts like, the old adage never fails.

Thinking further, the killer might have been a user of Liu Yang’s cosmetics, who, upon learning the truth, sought revenge. But mere revenge over this seemed too weak a motive.

More likely, Liu Yang and Zheng Wei had murdered someone close to the killer, and this string of cases was an act of vengeance.

But then again, my reasoning faltered, since Fang Lin had no connection to them. As far as I knew, Fang Lin hardly wore makeup, and her products were normal brands. Yet she was also killed.

Moreover, the voyeur who staged the transsexual corpse had done so as a prank against me, though I had no connection to Liu Yang or Zheng Wei.

Thus, the killer’s motive grew ever more elusive, and my mind was in chaos, about to collapse, thoughts tangled and impossible to unravel.

At that moment Jin Ze said to me, “Chen Mu, there’s nothing more for you here. Go home and rest, get some sleep, don’t go anywhere. Tonight I’ll come find you—I want to take you somewhere and show you something that will shock you.”