Jian Chuan seemed to take a deep breath, staring at the once vibrant and beautiful face in front of him, now devoid of life and smiles. Just the night before, they had strolled together on a quiet path, chatting freely under the moonlight.
In the blink of an eye, everything became an illusion, and the girl he had cherished for so many years would never open her eyes again or call out his name, "Jian Chuan", in her crisp and lively voice.
Jian Chuan sniffed, striving not to let his emotions cloud his professional judgment.
"Look at this strangulation mark. I compared it, and it indeed matches this rope, but the position is wrong." Jian Chuan picked up the rope with gloved hands, "If it were hung on the clothes rack, this mark should have been slanted upwards from the neck. But now, this mark is clearly slanted downwards, which indicates that someone used this rope from behind to strangle the victim before hanging her body up."
