The next day, Su Li and Ji Mo visited the small community pharmacy. The owner, Old Chen, a man in his fifties, wore thick glasses and was engrossed in a newspaper behind the counter. The shop smelled of herbs and antiseptic, shelves lined with bottles and jars.
Ji Mo trailed Su Li, frowning as his eyes scanned the labels. He recognized faint traces of familiar herbs but found most ingredients alien. He muttered under his breath, "These… resemble talisman catalysts, but their aura is impure." No one paid him any mind, so he sulked in silence.
Su Li flashed her badge, cutting to the chase. "Boss, anyone buy pet sedatives recently? Something to calm cats or dogs."
Old Chen set down his paper, adjusting his glasses, looking uneasy. "Sedatives? We've got them, but they're not common. Few folks around here keep pets, even fewer buy that stuff." He paused, thinking. "Last week, though, someone bought a small bottle. Paid cash, no name."
"No name?" Su Li's brow furrowed, her eyes locked on his. Behind her, Ji Mo wandered, curious, thinking, Quieting spirit beasts without a calming talisman? "What'd they look like? Any distinguishing features?"
Chen scratched his head. "Wore a gray knit cap, pulled low, couldn't see their face. Short, in a worn navy Mao suit. Voice was raspy. Grabbed the drug and left quick, didn't talk much."
Su Li's pulse quickened. A Mao suit? "Any other details?"
"Oh, yeah, they held a piece of fabric, like tailor's cloth, frayed at the edges, with some fur on it—cat fur, maybe."
Ji Mo's expression shifted subtly. He murmured, "Cat fur, old clothes, hiding their face… sounds like a spirit medium ritual." Su Li shot him a glare. "Stop jumping to the supernatural. We don't do séances here."
They left the pharmacy, Su Li clutching the sedative's ingredient list to compare with the yarn ball's residue.
Next, they visited Tailor Zhang's neighbor, Aunt Liu, a warmhearted middle-aged woman whose yard smelled of simmering chicken soup. She was hanging laundry when they arrived, setting down her bamboo basket to wave them inside enthusiastically.
"Officer Su, back again? For Old Lady Li's cat? Found anything? That cat was her baby," Liu sighed, pouring tea.
Su Li got straight to the point. "Aunt Liu, seen anything odd lately? Strange noises at night, unusual people?"
Liu frowned, thinking, then lowered her voice. "There was something, but I didn't tell anyone. My house is right next to Zhang's. A few nights ago, around midnight, I heard scratching in his backyard, like something clawing wood—creepy. And a couple times, I swear I heard a cat yowl, short and sharp, like it was spooked."
Ji Mo's brow creased. He spoke slowly, "That sound… can you describe it? Continuous or broken? How fast?"
Liu blinked, hesitant. "Broken, on and off… What's your deal?"
"He's… studying spiritual energy fluctuations," Su Li said dryly, covering for him.
Ji Mo muttered, "Some lingering spirits make such sounds, faint but disruptive to the mind…"
Su Li glared, refocusing on Liu. She jotted down the details, picturing Zhang's face. As they left, she noticed a small vegetable patch in Liu's yard, bright red tomatoes gleaming in the sun. Red… like the stains on the yarn ball. Could someone be using red pigment to mislead the investigation?
Leaving Liu's, they walked along the river path. Passing a rundown house, Ji Mo stopped, pointing to a figure ahead. "Lady Su, that person… seems strange."
Su Li followed his gaze. A lanky young man, Xiao Zhao, squatted by the river, back to them, fiddling with something. Zhao was the town's notorious idler, early twenties, no steady job, scraping by on odd errands. He wore a tattered jacket, his hair a messy nest, always looking shifty.
Su Li approached, tapping his shoulder. "What're you doing?"
Zhao jumped, dropping something into the river with a splash. He turned, forcing a grin. "You guys? I… just checking out the fish, no big deal."
Su Li narrowed her eyes, spotting red stains on his pants—paint, maybe. She flashed her badge. "Been around Old Lady Li's place lately?"
His smile froze, eyes darting. "Me? Just passing by, nothing to do with her cat!"
"Passing by?" Ji Mo's tone carried suspicion.
"Someone saw you sneaking around her yard," Su Li probed.
Zhao waved his hands frantically. "No way! I just… picked up an empty bottle to sell. Don't pin this on me!" His forehead beaded with sweat.
Su Li didn't press further but noticed a red smudge on the grass near his feet, like spilled paint. She crouched, scraping a sample, thinking, This matches the yarn ball's red. She'd check it later for clues.
Back at the station, Su Li sat at her desk, organizing notes. The case was growing tangled. Liu's testimony, Zhang's Mao suit and cap, Zhao's red paint—pieces of a puzzle that wouldn't fit. This "simple" missing cat case was hiding something deeper.
Ji Mo, meanwhile, was poking at the coffee machine, engrossed in its buttons.
Su Li recalled a case from years ago: a string of unsolved pet disappearances. Several cats and dogs vanished, owners reported it, but the cases went cold. Some blamed wild dogs, others suspected transient thieves selling pets, but no evidence surfaced. Now, with Li's cat, the bloody yarn ball, and the sedative, Su Li wondered if this tied to those old cases.
She dug through the archives, pulling faded files. One report mentioned a cat named "Flower," lost with a yarn ball found in a trash heap, stained red. Limited forensics at the time couldn't identify the substance, and the case was ruled an "accident." Su Li's heart raced. Yarn balls, red stains—too close for coincidence.
She planned to revisit Zhang's tomorrow and request a search of Zhao's place. But as she packed up to leave, her phone rang. It was Old Lady Li, voice quaking. "Officer Su… I found another yarn ball in my yard, just like the last one! There's blood on it… please come quick!"
Su Li grabbed her jacket, turning to Ji Mo. "Stop playing with the coffee machine. Let's go!"
Night cloaked the neighborhood, willows by the river swaying in the breeze, whispering secrets no one could decipher.