mystery literature
Hóu Dàlì's Criminal Investigation Case Notes
About the Book
Plot Blurb: For sixteen years, driven by the loss of someone he loved and his pursuit of the murderer, Hóu Dàlì has repeatedly stared death in the face. He has honed his mind into a computer and his eyes into microscopes, enabling him to methodically pinpoint the crucial clues hidden within crime scenes and autopsy reports. With an almost superhuman power of observation, Hóu Dàlì cuts through even the most tangled social networks to identify a killer’s behavioral patterns and upbringing, ultimately bringing them to justice. Driven by the firm belief that no homicide should ever go unsolved, Hóu Dàlì has grown from a rookie investigator into a walking textbook of criminal investigation.
📕 TITLE OF BOOK OR SERIES
Hóu Dàlì's Criminal Investigation Case Notes
🎭 ALTENATIVE TITLE
侯大利刑侦笔记
🌎 COUNTRY OF ORIGIN
China (Mainland)
🧑🏻🦰 AUTHOR
Xiaoqiao Laoshu (小桥老树)
🕵️ DETECTIVE(S)
Hou Dali
✅ SERIES STATUS
Completed
#️⃣ VOLUME(S)
10 Volumes. Generally sold as an anthology rather than individually.
Read Chapter 1 of Hou Dali’s Criminal Investigation Case Notes (侯大利刑侦笔记) in this unofficial annotated English translation. We have made every effort to faithfully translate the author Xiǎoqiáo Lǎoshù’s (小桥老树) work from the original Chinese, preserving the author’s words, nuances, and connotations while providing notes on Chinese names, idioms, cultural references, and wordplay to help English readers experience the story as it was written.
If you see a word or phrase followed by a lightbulb (💡), it means there is a note explaining the translation or a related concept. Click on the word or phrase before the lightbulb to view the note.
Chapter 1: The Missing High School Girl
Autumn, 2001. Jiāngzhōu City, Shānnán Province
In the early morning, Criminal Investigation Division (CID) Chief Zhū Lín and two investigators arrived at the Jiāngzhōu branch of the Shānnán Guólóng Group and entered the room of Hóu Dàlì, the group’s “young master.” Standing by the bedside, Zhū Lín sized up the still deeply sleeping spoiled rich heir and said to Xià Xiǎoyǔ, who was standing nearby, “Wake him up.”
Xià Xiǎoyǔ was the head of the Jiāngzhōu branch of the Guólóng Group, and he and Zhū Lín were acquaintances who had shared drinks at various networking dinners. At those gatherings, Zhū Lín was always taciturn, seemingly rather ordinary. But when handling cases, this grim-faced, thin detective instantly transformed from a sick cat into a tiger, his gaze sharp and oppressive.
Xià Xiǎoyǔ cautiously explained: “Chief Zhū, Dàlì went out drinking with friends from the provincial capital after school yesterday and didn’t get home until after ten. He was so drunk he was completely out of it. After he got home, he was even put on an IV drip. Once the drip was finished, he went straight to sleep. The doctor and the family’s housekeeper can both confirm this, and there is surveillance cameras outside the door — the footage can be retrieved at any time.”
Remaining expressionless, Zhū Lín said again: “Wake him up.”
Hóu Dàli was shaken awake and looked up through bleary, drunken eyes at the grim-faced man standing beside the bed.
The rich second-generation heir had drunk himself senseless, with none of the bearing one would expect from a high school student. Suppressing his disgust, Zhū Lín said, “You. Sit up. Tell me everything you did from the time school let out yesterday until now.”
Xià Xiǎoyǔ prompted, “Dàli, tell them. You have to tell them.”
While studying in the provincial capital, Hóu Dàlì had fallen in with a group of other wealthy heirs who were always stirring up trouble, and he had been questioned by the police on numerous occasions because of them. Although he had no idea what had happened this time, Xià Xiǎoyǔ’s grave expression told him that something serious must have occurred. He accepted the strong tea, took a sip, and, as the stern-faced detective had instructed, recounted everything he had done from the time school ended yesterday until now. He was certain he hadn’t been involved in any fights or brawls, and guessed that one of his buddies from their night of drinking and carousing had probably gotten into trouble in the middle of the night. Secretly, he felt relieved that he had been too drunk the night before, had gone home early, and would not be implicated.
Zhū Lín listened very attentively, carefully searching for flaws in the spoiled heir’s account, while observing the subtle changes in his facial expression and body language. After he finished speaking, Zhū Lín said calmly, “Now tell me everything you did from yesterday to now, but in reverse order.”
“And who are you?” Hóu Dàlì muttered, still not fully awake from his hangover, his head pounding, growing impatient.
Xià Xiǎoyǔ realized the situation was serious and pressed down on Hóu Dàlì’s shoulder. Giving him a meaningful look, he said, “Dàlì, don’t act up. Just tell them what they want to know when they ask you. This is Uncle Zhū, from the Criminal Investigation Division.”
Xià Xiǎoyǔ had a close relationship with the Hóu family and was the only person in Jiāngzhōu who could keep Hóu Dàlì in check. Taking Xià’s subtle cue, Hóu Dàlì reluctantly went through what had happened the day before.
Hóu Dàlì recounted the events in reverse order without hesitation, his gaze fixed straight ahead and his facial muscles relaxed. It was clear he was describing his own personal experience. Had he been fabricating what happened yesterday, there would inevitably have been inconsistencies during the reversed retelling. Zhū Lín was now largely convinced by Hóu Dàlì’s account and shifted the focus of his questioning to Yáng Fān, Hóu Dàlì’s childhood friend.
At first, Hóu Dàlì assumed it was his buddies in the provincial capital who had gotten into trouble. But as the questioning went on and the more he heard, the more something felt off. A growing unease began to take hold of him, and he said, “Why are you asking about Yáng Fān? She’s a good student; she never gets into trouble.”
“Yáng Fān is missing!” Zhū Lín said coolly.
Yáng Fān, a first-year high school student at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 Middle School, had been missing since yesterday afternoon and still had not been found as of early this morning. Due to his close relationship with Yáng Fān, Hóu Dàli naturally became a key subject of the investigation. Guólóng Group was a major enterprise in Shānnan Province, and Hóu Dàli’s father, Hóu Guólóng, was a well-known businessman in the province with close ties to influential figures at both the provincial and municipal levels. In light of this, Zhū Lín, the head of the CID, personally took charge, bringing two experienced investigators from the Major Crimes Unit to question Hóu Dàli.
Upon learning that Yáng Fān was missing, Hóu Dàli reacted like a cat whose tail had suddenly been stepped on, instantly leaping up before bolting straight toward the door like a cannonball. An investigator near Zhū Lín reacted quickly and moved to block him. Hóu Dàli tried to force his way through, but the two investigators restrained him.
Hóu Dàli struggled with the two investigators for seven or eight minutes, exhausting himself in the process. His emotions gradually subsided from their peak.
Xià Xiǎoyǔ squatted down beside Hóu Dàli and said, “Yáng Fān didn’t return home last night. When her bicycle was found at Shì’ān Bridge, she was likely already missing. At this critical moment, you must stay calm and fully cooperate with the police. The more detailed information you provide, the greater the chances of finding Yáng Fān.”
“Hurry up and ask. I need to head to Shì’ān Bridge once we’re done.” A bead of sweat ran into Hóu Dàli’s eye, stinging painfully.
Xià Xiǎoyǔ asked, “Are you calm now?”
Hóu Dàli nodded.
Only then did the two investigators release Hóu Dàli.
Zhū Lín asked, “At school, was anyone pursuing Yáng Fān? If so, who?”
Hóu Dàli said, “Jiǎng Xiǎoyǒng from Class Three, Lǐ Wǔlín from our class, Chén Léi from Class Five, and Wáng Zhōngchéng from Class Two. That’s all I know.”
After the police concluded their questioning, Xià Xiǎoyǔ escorted Hóu Dàli to Shì’ān Bridge.
“Yáng Fān was supposed to tutor me yesterday . . .”, Hóu Dàli, seated in the car, started and then trailed off.
“What did you say?” Xià Xiǎoyǔ asked. Hóu Dàli had spoken in a very low voice, so quietly that Xià Xiǎoyǔ didn’t hear him clearly.
Hóu Dàli shook his head, his expression dazed as his thoughts drifted back to the day before.
The day before the incident happened to be Jiāngzhōu No. 1 Middle School’s centennial celebration.
The final event of the anniversary celebration was a school arts festival, and Yáng Fān was the undisputed star of the show. She led both the opening dance and the closing finale.
Hóu Dàli found the arts festival hopelessly outdated and boring, yawning repeatedly. If it weren’t for the fact that Yáng Fān was in two of the performances, he wouldn’t have been sitting in the auditorium at all. Just when he was drifting off, he received a text message from a friend in the provincial capital: “Bro, you’re getting bored out of your mind in Jiāngzhōu, huh? Me, Fat Ass, and that bastard are bringing two hot girls from an arts school to Jiāngzhōu this afternoon. You know the drill.”
After reading the text, Hóu Dàli couldn’t help indulging in a few amorous fantasies.
The performance finally began. At first, the stage was completely dark. Then a single spotlight shone onto the stage, and Yáng Fān, a first-year student from Class One, emerged at center stage like a beautiful peacock breaking through the darkness. The auditorium fell silent; no one speaking a single word. Her graceful, expressive movements were mesmerizing, drawing everyone’s attention as irresistibly as the gravity of a black hole.
Yáng Fān shone brilliantly on the stage, causing all of Hóu Dàli’s dirty thoughts to vanish into the air like ash and smoke.
When the dance ended, the auditorium remained silent for several seconds before erupting into enthusiastic applause. Yáng Fān took three bows before the applause gradually subsided. The art festival was a great success. After the performance, an alumnus approached the former principal, hoping to recruit Yáng Fān into a military-affiliated song-and-dance troupe, with immediate enlistment.
It was the first time Hóu Dàli had ever watched Yáng Fān perform in person and her appearance on stage left him completely dazzled. After the performance ended, he waited for Yáng Fān in the parking lot. Ten minutes later, she appeared. She had been breathtaking on stage, radiant and captivating. Now she sat beside him, lovely and poised, her skin as white as snow, her bright, expressive eyes full of life, and as pure as a lotus emerging from the water
Hóu Dàli stood there, transfixed, as if he had forgotten how to speak. After a long moment, he finally stammered, “You dance beautifully.”
“You’re only just realizing that? I’ve always danced well.”
Yáng Fān had walked over hurriedly, small beads of sweat on her forehead and neck, clear and translucent, glistening in the afternoon sunlight. She scanned their surroundings anxiously and asked “Is it safe here? We agreed we wouldn’t meet alone during school hours.”
“Don’t worry. The windows are closed; no one can see inside. It’s absolutely safe.” Only then did Hóu Dàli withdraw his gaze and hand her a small, delicate box.
“What?”
“This cake is a special order from the Jiāngzhōu Grand Hotel. It isn’t sold to the general public, supplied only to high-end guests.”
“Spoiled rich kid!” (Wankù!)
“Huh? Isn’t it pronounced ‘wánkuà’?”
“You really are a ‘wánkuà’, aren’t you.” Yáng Fān rolled her eyes at him.
Hóu Dàli noticed she was just holding the box without eating and said, “Go on, eat it. It’s really good.”
Yáng Fān stared at the cake and swallowed hard, saying “I want to eat it, but I’m afraid I’ll gain weight.”
“It’s fine. . . have a taste.”
“Mm, just one spoonful should be fine.” Yáng Fān scooped out a small amount and put it into her mouth, savoring the taste. After just one bite, she set the spoon down and said, “I really can’t eat any more. I’ll actually gain weight.”
“If you can’t even eat cake, what meaning is there left in life? Uncle Yáng standards are way too high, strict to the point of harshness.”
“Everyone has their own life plan. After I get into a top university, I’ll still need to join the university song-and-dance troupe, so I need to stay in good shape. By the way, what was it you came to see me about in such a hurry?”
“Some buddies from the provincial capital have come to Jiāngzhōu to see me. I’ll be spending the afternoon with them, so I can’t walk you home after school today.” Hóu Dàli usually walked Yáng Fān past Shì’ān Bridge every day; there they would part ways and head home separately.
“Don’t hang around with delinquents. As a student, your main focus should be on your studies. If you rank in the bottom ten in the final exams, I won’t have anything to do with you.”.
“Good Heavens! Class One is an elite class—every single student is brilliant. Ranking eleventh from the bottom is basically an impossible mission.”
“I don’t care. This is my requirement for you.”
Hóu Dàli tried to change the subject, pointing at the cake and saying, “Have another bite, just one more!”
“Don’t try to use good food to change the subject,” Yáng Fān said, taking her English textbook out of her tote bag. “We still have time now, so let’s review Lesson One together. Three years will pass in the blink of an eye. Your foundation is weak, so you need to make the most of every day.”
In less than half an hour, Hóu Dàli had actually memorized the opening part of the first lesson.
“Not bad. Since you can understand the material, I can tutor you every day at noon.”
“Every day at noon? Are you being serious?”
“I really mean it!”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll come again tomorrow.”
“I’m just afraid you’ll do it for a few days and then give up.”
“That won’t happen; this is a deal between the two of us!”
Lunch break was already short to begin with, and when the two of them were together, time flew by like lightening. In the blink of an eye, it was almost time for them to part ways. Yáng Fān closed her English textbook, slowly took out a handmade envelope, and handed it to Hóu Dàli.
“A love letter?”
“In your dreams. Read it later.”
“We see each other every day—do we still need love letters?”
“Writing letters is a very serious matter. Don’t be so glib.”
Yáng Fān got out of the car, stood by the window, waved, and turned to leave. Hóu Dàli’s gaze clung to her back, unable to even blink. When her figure disappeared around the corner, he remained seated and picked up the letter. The paper was pure white, with a few stalks of bamboo drawn in the lower left corner—simple and elegant. Yáng Fān had practiced calligraphy since childhood; her handwriting, like her character, was graceful and lively.
“I’ve long wanted to write this letter. Every time I pick up my pen, I am full of things to say, yet I don’t know where to begin. It’s truly one of those cases where the thoughts cannot be cut away, and the more one tries to sort them out, the more tangled they become. After much hesitation, I still feel I should write this letter to you.”
“There were three things I didn’t expect this year. The first was that you would actually come back to Jiāngzhōu to study. When we were children, our two families lived right across from each other, and we were together every day—just like in the lines by Li Ba: ‘The boy came riding a bamboo horse; around the bed we played with green plums.’”
“Back then, I treated you like a real older brother. Whenever I was wronged, I would come to you, and whenever I had something good to eat or something fun, I would come to you too. You even stepped in to fight on my behalf—at least three times, I think. Later, your whole family moved away from Shì’ān Factory. For a long time after that, I still felt like you were living right across from us, like you could push open our door at any moment and sit down across from me at the table. In reality, however, after you left, you completely disappeared from my life.”
“The second thing I didn’t expect was that we would end up classmates again. Over these past few years, many stories about Uncle Hóu and you have been circulating in the factory district. Many people said you had become a rich second-generation heir who had gone bad, a spoiled playboy in the provincial city of Yángzhōu drinking, gambling, chasing women, and indulging in every kind of vice. Every time I heard such talk, I would get very angry and argue with people about it. Of course, I was also resentful that you had fallen short of expectations and become a ‘bad person’ in their eyes! But now that you’re back in Jiāngzhōu, I realize those rumors weren’t true. You’re still the same Dàli-ge—you haven’t gone bad at all; you’ve just fallen far behind in your studies. It’s still only the first year of high school, so there’s plenty of time to catch up. I truly hope you can shake off those spoiled habits, focus on your studies, and get into a top-tier university—that’s the Dàli-ge I have in mind.”
“The third thing I didn’t expect was when you said that day that you ‘like me.’ I’m sorry I gave you a cold expression; please don’t be angry. From junior high school until now, I’ve received quite a few love letters. Every time I got them, I would get very angry, tearing them into pieces before throwing them in the trash. But when you said those words that day, although I showed you a cold face, I wasn’t actually angry. We are high school students; studying is what we should focus on right now. If you were just teasing me, then please take back the words ‘like me,’ because that would be disrespectful to me. But if you meant it sincerely, then please keep those feelings deep in your heart. After we graduate from high school, I hope you will carefully reflect on the meaning of those words, and then decide whether to say them. At that time, I will consider it.”
“Before writing this letter, I felt I had so, so much to say. But once I put pen to paper, I didn’t know what to write. I somehow ended up urging you to study hard. Sigh. . . have I turned into a nagging old lady? In a thousand words, what I truly hope is that you grow into a real man. But even that sounds too formal, and it might put too much pressure on you. But don’t worry, I will always stand by your side watching you grow into a real man!”
“I’ll stop here for today. I hope you can understand.”
From Xiǎo Fán, who lives across from you.
This was the first formal letter Hóu Dàli had ever received in his life. Although Yáng Fān had rejected him, he could still sense a subtle, restrained affection toward him in her words; the sweet thoughts of a young girl, as mellow as fine wine, left him deeply intoxicated.”
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Notes
为爱追凶 (lit. “for love pursues the murderer”): The phrase suggests that Hóu Dàlì is driven by the death of someone he loved, and that avenging or solving their murder is the motivation behind his actions. ↩
China is divided into 34 Provinces (e.g., Guangdong, Sichuan); 5 Autonomous Regions (e.g., Tibet) 4 Municipalities (e.g., Beijing, Shanghai); and 2 Special Administrative Regions (e.g., Hong Kong, Macau).
Within the provinces are Cities which (unlike in the US) generally govern both the urban and surrounding rural areas.
Under the City are Counties (mostly rural or suburban areas or Districts (primarily urban areas).
Then within the counties and districts are Towns, local settlements or small communities.
In this work, the place names appear to be fictional, but understanding this administrative structure is useful, as it often influences jurisdiction, policing, and investigative networks in Chinese settings. ↩
Note: Zhu Lin (朱林) is pronounced roughly as “Joo Leen.” ↩
Note: The term “young master” (少爷 / 太子) refers to the son of a wealthy or powerful family, often implying he is the designated heir who will eventually inherit the family business or fortune. It carries connotations of privilege, entitlement, and a sheltered elite upbringing, rather than just being a neutral descriptor of age or status. ↩
Note: Xia Xiaoyu (夏晓宇) is pronounced roughly “Shyah Shyow-yoo.” ↩
Note: The Chinese term 家里阿姨 (jiālǐ āyí) literally means “the auntie at home.” In modern Chinese, however, āyí (“auntie”) is commonly used as a respectful form of address for an older woman and does not necessarily indicate a family relationship. In this context, it refers to the family’s domestic helper or housekeeper rather than a biological aunt. ↩
Note: Yang Fan (杨帆) is pronounced roughly “Yahng Fahn.” Yang rhymes with “song” but starts with a “y” sound. ↩
Note: The phrase “a growing unease took hold of him” translates the Chinese 一颗心渐渐悬了起来, literally meaning “his heart gradually began to rise in unease.” In Chinese usage, 悬起来 conveys a state of emotional suspension, where certainty is lost and suspicion or tension begins to build. The heart is becoming unsettled and held in tension. English does not normally express this state through physical heart movement, so the translation renders the meaning idiomatically as a gradual onset of unease and alertness as suspicion develops. ↩
Note: “No. 1” is part of the official school name, often signifying one of the earliest or most established schools in a city. “Middle School” typically covers both lower secondary (junior middle school, roughly ages 12–15, grades 7–9) and upper secondary (senior high school, roughly ages 15–18, grades 10–12). In this context, “first-year high school student” refers to a student in the first year of senior high school. ↩
Note: Shì’ān (世安) is pronounced roughly “shur ahn.” The apostrophe indicates a syllable break, separating it into shì + ān rather than a blended form. It is not pronounced like “she.” ↩
Note: The phrase “待傻了吧” is a colloquial insult used among close friends. Literally, it means “you’ve stayed so long you’ve gone stupid,” implying that prolonged boredom or isolation has made someone dull-witted or restless. In context, it is teasing rather than serious, expressing that the speaker thinks the listener is bored or stuck in an uneventful place. ↩
Note: The nicknames “Fat Ass” (大屁股, literally “big butt”) and “that bastard” (烂人, literally “rotten person”) are intended as affectionate, teasing nicknames used amongst friends. ↩
Note: The expression 光芒四射 literally means “radiating light in all directions.” While it can describe literal brightness, it is more often used figuratively to portray someone whose talent, charisma, or presence is so dazzling that they command everyone’s attention. ↩
Note: In China, many song-and-dance troupes (歌舞团) have historically been affiliated with the military or other state organizations. Here, 进部队 (“enter the military”) means joining a military performing arts troupe as a professional dancer or singer rather than serving in a combat role. Such troupes offered stable employment, professional training, and considerable prestige, making them a sought-after career path for talented young performers. ↩
Note: The phrase “将他震得昏头昏脑” literally means “shook him until he became dizzy and muddled.” It describes being emotionally and mentally overwhelmed by what one sees, rather than physical dizziness. The translation “left him completely dazzled” is used because English does not typically describe admiration or visual impact in terms of being “shaken dizzy.” ↩
Note: This exchange is part of a joke. The term 纨绔 (wánkù) is a slightly literary word referring to privileged, well-born young men who are perceived as spoiled or idle due to wealth. It carries connotations of aristocratic upbringing and social status, often with a faintly critical tone. In this exchange, Yang Fan uses it teasingly toward Hou Dali in reference to his wealthy background and the luxury cake. At which point, Hou Dali responds cluelessly by mispronouncing the term back to her. She reiterates that he is a wánkù but using his own mispronunciation. ↩
Note: The term “ge” or “Big Brother (哥 / 哥哥)” is a literal family-style address meaning “older brother,” but in everyday Chinese it is often used more broadly as an informal term of respect, familiarity, or affection toward an older male of similar or slightly higher age. It does not necessarily indicate a biological sibling relationship. ↩
Note: The line “郎骑竹马来，绕床弄青梅” comes from a Tang dynasty poem traditionally attributed to Li Bai. It is a well-known classical expression describing childhood companionship: a boy riding a bamboo horse and playing around the bed with a girl holding green plums. ↩
Note: The character “小 (xiǎo)” in names or self-references like “小帆 (Xiaofan)” literally means “small” or “little,” but in everyday Chinese usage it often carries a tone of familiarity, affection, or informality rather than literal size. In this context, “Xiaofan” is not a formal name but a warm, intimate way of referring to herself, emphasizing closeness and emotional familiarity with the addressee. ↩