Several police cars surrounded the bungalow from the front and back. As You Mingxu pushed the car door open, Xu Mengshan had already rushed out. Seeing her partner in this state, her heart sank even further.
The house was empty, with only a dagger and a length of rope lying on the floor. You Mingxu examined the scene carefully—there were no obvious signs of a struggle. When she looked up, she saw Xu Mengshan leap into the air-raid shelter in the corner of the room. She rushed over, leaned over the entrance, and urgently asked, "What's the situation?"
Xu Mengshan, holding a flashlight, quickly scanned the area and finally fixed his gaze on the scattered ropes and other traces on the ground—clearly, someone had been confined here. He gritted his teeth and replied, "No one."
"A Xu," Yin Feng called out. You Mingxu turned and saw him pick up a backpack from the bed, dumping its contents—clothes, money, and a wallet—onto the floor. You Mingxu dashed over, picked up the wallet, and flipped it open. Seeing the ID and bank cards inside, she looked up, and their eyes met.
"They haven't gone far!" she said.
Yin Feng nodded.
You Mingxu rushed out of the room and shouted to the other officers, "Search the area immediately!" Yin Feng helped Xu Mengshan climb out of the shelter. The moment Xu Mengshan reached the ground, he dashed off. Yin Feng instinctively followed, running alongside him. As he watched the police officers ahead sprinting desperately, with his A Xu leading the way, his chest tightened with pain.
Half an hour later, the police discovered suspicious bloodstains on a street about one kilometer away from the cottage. The blood had already dried, indicating it was from at least several hours earlier. Han Feng, the local criminal police captain, immediately ordered the collection of surveillance footage from the vicinity of the suspicious location. Another hour later, they finally found a functioning camera at a distant street corner and retrieved the footage. However, the images were blurry and distant.
——
In the meeting room of Huaicheng Police Station.
Lao Tan, You Mingxu, Han Feng, Xu Mengshan, and other key officers involved in the case, including Yin Feng, were watching a video clip that lasted just over 20 seconds.
The video quality was poor, with snow and flickering lines. The timestamp showed 4:02 a.m. that day. On the empty, long street, a man and a woman walked into view. They were facing away from the camera, but the woman was wearing the same clothes Fan Jia had on when she disappeared.
"It's Fan Jia!" You Mingxu said. The others nodded in agreement—colleagues who worked closely together could recognize her at a glance. Only Xu Mengshan remained silent, his face illuminated by the shifting light of the slideshow, his gaze fixed intently on the screen.
"The man is Chen Zhaoci," Han Feng said. "Judging by his build, it's definitely him."
At that moment.
An extremely tall and robust figure in black suddenly rushed into the frame from below, wielding an iron hammer, and swung it at Fan Jia.
Even these seasoned detectives gasped in shock.
Fan Jia collapsed in a pool of blood, motionless.
The person wore a black hoodie, and his face remained unseen throughout. He swung the hammer again at Chen Zhaoci, who was lying on the ground, and Chen Zhaoci stopped moving. The figure bent down, hoisted Fan Jia over his shoulder, turned, and walked out of the frame.
The meeting room fell into silence.
The officer in charge of reviewing the surveillance footage said, "This is the footage from about half an hour later."
Dawn had not yet broken. Only Chen Zhaoci remained at the scene. His body twitched, and he staggered to his feet. At that moment, everyone could see that his hands were bound with rope beneath his sleeves. Chen Zhaoci's head was also bleeding. He looked around for a while, as if searching for something. Finally, he too ran out of the frame.
——Yin Feng stepped out of the restroom and saw the familiar figure standing by the railing. Dusk had fallen, and the wind had picked up. She pulled out a cigarette, held it between her lips, and flicked her lighter once—no flame. Her face remained expressionless as she tried again, and again. Despite the wind, she made no effort to shield it, as if locked in a stubborn battle with the lighter. Finally, she lost her temper and hurled both the cigarette and lighter into a nearby trash bin.
After days of relentless pursuit, her ponytail had long since come half-undone, but she paid it no mind. She ran her fingers through her long hair, leaned over the balcony railing, and bowed her head.
Yin Feng had never seen her so anxious before.
Fan Jia had been attacked and was now missing. The police had launched a thorough search of the area but had turned up nothing. In such a crowded, bustling old district, hiding a person was all too easy. Witnesses and suspects brought in for questioning were being interrogated one after another. This was a brief lull in the interrogations, and Yin Feng happened upon You Mingxu in this state.
Yin Feng walked over to her, habitually stretching his arms along the railing like a teenager. Before he could speak, You Mingxu said, "Go away. I don’t want to talk."
Even Yin Feng, skilled in psychology and usually adept at coaxing or acting spoiled, found himself at a loss for how to comfort her. In the end, he resorted to the most clichéd line: "If you’re feeling upset, just cry it out."
You Mingxu let out a derisive laugh. "Cry? The person’s still missing, and I’m here being melodramatic?"
Yin Feng paused, then said, "The person’s still missing, and you’re here throwing a tantrum with a lighter?"
That finally made You Mingxu look directly at him, her expression darkening fiercely.
"You Yingjun, it seems you no longer wish to bear the surname You," she said.
But Yin Feng smiled and declared with considerable bravado, "A true man stands by his name, unwavering in both action and identity."
Somehow, whenever she was feeling stifled and frustrated, his playful antics and nonsense always seemed to ease her mood. Just then, a colleague passed by, and You Mingxu borrowed another lighter, pulling out another cigarette to smoke. Her demeanor was noticeably less agitated now.
Side by side, they watched as the dusk deepened, like a dark net enveloping the entire city.
"If A Xu is feeling unwell, lean on my shoulder," Yin Feng said. "Physical comfort between people has its effects. In other words, leaning on me will give A Xu some strength."
You Mingxu only narrowed her eyes and smiled. "No, thanks."
Within seconds, a heavy head came to rest on her shoulder. You Mingxu glanced sideways at him—so tall, yet he didn’t seem to worry about straining his back. He even closed his eyes, his expression serene.
"Then let A Xu give me strength," he said.
You Mingxu didn’t respond, nor did she push him away. Occasionally, someone passing by would glance at them, but she paid no attention. Yin Feng didn’t wear cologne these days, but he always carried a pleasant scent—sometimes the fragrance of shower gel, sometimes floral water, and occasionally, if he’d spilled milk on his clothes after drinking a large carton in the morning, a faint milky note. They were all clean, comforting smells. His hair was soft too, pressing against her neck, stirring indescribable feelings in her heart—intimacy, purity, longing, and being longed for.
After a long while, You Mingxu tilted her head and gently kissed the top of his head.
Yin Feng’s entire heart trembled at that feather-light kiss. He slowly lifted his head, only to see You Mingxu gazing straight ahead, her expression cool and detached as she said, "Get up. Let’s go over our thoughts again."
Yin Feng: "Oh..."You Mingxu said: "Initially, a year ago, Zhao Feier, a college graduate trapped in Gold Splitting Treasure Company's Campus Loan, went missing and was murdered. All members of Gold Splitting Treasure Company had alibis, and the fingerprints didn't match. Zhao Feier also didn't meet their target requirements. The real killer who murdered Zhao Feier was someone else."
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