This chicken is handled... quite impactfully.

Liu Yuan: "..."

Fine, let them contact her. It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong anyway.

When the call came, she’d just explain it.

She silently closed the pop-up window.

In those few seconds, new replies had already flooded in.

["Wild guess: a crime of passion?"]

["Think bigger—maybe it’s a whole family massacre!"]

["What kind of massacre? A divorce lawsuit… or an unpaid dowry?"]

...

Liu Yuan set her phone aside, ignoring the increasingly absurd speculations on the forum, and turned her attention back to the disaster zone that was her kitchen.

First, there was the completely charred tomato-and-egg stir-fry.

Resigned, she scraped the pan with a spatula, the metal screeching against the bottom, dislodging only blackened crumbs.

Whatever. She’d deal with it later.

She’d just toss this out and soak the pan.

Then there was the "unblinking" old hen.

Catching the chicken hadn’t been hard—she just hadn’t expected it to suddenly take flight, giving it a chance to escape.

Now, the hen lay quietly on the cutting board, albeit in a twisted pose, its neck wound still oozing a faint trickle of blood.

Liu Yuan stared at it, a shiver running down her spine, but her craving for chicken soup hadn’t faded.

Fine, she’d leave this for later too.

The most urgent task? Cleaning up the bloodstains!

That couldn’t wait.

Liu Yuan turned on the faucet, intending to rinse her apron first.

Ice-cold water gushed out, splashing onto the blood-spattered fabric. The stains seemed to lighten slightly, but soon, the water swirled pink as blood mixed into the stream, tinting the entire sink a faint rosy hue.

She tried wiping the blood off the walls and stove, but the more she scrubbed, the more the stains spread. What had been small dots now smeared into blurry red patches, making the kitchen look even more like a crime scene.

She had no idea how much time had passed when—

Knock, knock, knock—

The sudden rapping at the door made Liu Yuan freeze.

The rag in her hand slipped and fell into the sink with a wet plop.

Who was it?

Had her brother come back?

No, Su Qi had a key.

Relatives?

They didn’t have any.

Liu Yuan tiptoed to the door, trying to peek through the peephole.

But she couldn’t reach it.

Even on her tiptoes, she was just a hair too short.

Honestly, whoever designed this was downright sadistic.

Knock, knock, knock—

The knocking persisted.

Liu Yuan cracked the door open a sliver.

Outside stood two people, both dressed in matching blue work uniforms with badges pinned to their chests bearing the words "Jiangxia Gas."

One was a middle-aged man in his forties, with a square jaw and a stern expression.

The other was a younger woman in her twenties, holding a clipboard and what looked like a detection device.

"Hello, gas inspection."

Gas inspection?

Even though this was a rundown part of town, basic safety measures were still in place, and occasional gas safety checks weren’t unheard of.

Liu Yuan hesitated over whether to let them in.

The older man seemed to sense her reluctance and spoke in a calm, steady voice, "Good day, ma’am. We’re from Jiangxia Gas Company, conducting a routine safety inspection."

"Here’s my work ID."

His tone was perfectly normal, giving nothing away.

Liu Yuan’s mind raced—could they be "staff" from the Cardholder Forum, disguised as gas inspectors to investigate?

Surely they wouldn’t go to such lengths?

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe this was just a coincidence.

She glanced at the ID. It looked legit, and the photo matched the man’s face.

After a brief pause, she opened the door wider, forcing a somewhat natural smile. "Hello."

The older man nodded, his gaze lingering for a split second on Liu Yuan’s apron, splattered with suspicious stains, before shifting away.

Then, he looked past her into the living room. "Pardon the intrusion. We’re here for the annual pipeline safety check. We’ll need to inspect your gas meter and kitchen pipes."

The younger woman added, "It’s mainly to check for leaks or other hazards. Won’t take long."

The older man’s eyes casually swept the interior.

"The kitchen is a high-risk area for gas usage, so we’ll need to check the stove and pipe connections."

A faint metallic tang in the air made his brow twitch almost imperceptibly.

"Were you… cooking just now?" he asked casually.

"Ah, y-yes," Liu Yuan stammered, brushing it off. "Just, uh, trying out a recipe. Had a little accident."

The older man lingered by the kitchen doorway, his eyes subtly scanning the living room for possible escape routes.

"Do you live alone?"

Liu Yuan shook her head. "No, I live with my brother."

"Where is he now? In the kitchen or the bathroom?"

"He… left this morning."

"What’s his name? Occupation? Contact info? Any unusual behavior lately?"

The man pulled out a notepad, ready to jot things down, then caught himself. "Just standard resident records."

"My brother’s name is Su Qi…"

Liu Yuan gave only the name—something easily verifiable.

She dodged the rest. "You two must be tired. Let me get you some water first."

"Sure. I’ll start checking for leaks."

Without waiting for her to return, the older man pushed open the kitchen door.

The scene inside unfolded before the two "gas inspectors" in all its glory.

A charred pot sat soaking in the sink, water murky with grease and unidentifiable debris.

On the cutting board lay a contorted chicken, while the sink, floor, walls, and stove were splattered with red stains in varying shades and shapes—some already dried to a dark brown.

The air was thick with the mingled scents of burnt food and blood, creating an indescribable… aroma.

Silence.

The man’s device beeped, a green light flashing to indicate all was normal.

But he was too stunned to speak, mouth slightly agape as he took in the carnage.

His gaze traveled from the blackened pot to the chicken on the board, then to the blood-streaked walls, before finally settling on Liu Yuan’s deeply embarrassed face.

After a few seconds, the older man seemed to process the sight.

He cleared his throat, knuckles pressed to his lips, breaking the silence.

"Ahem… that’s, uh… quite the… impactful way to handle a chicken."

His tone carried a mix of relief and something like disappointment.

Seriously, what was a fourth-tier certified Cardholder doing on a forum asking how to clean bloodstains?

His second-class merit award… gone just like that.