At that moment, her phone rang. Seeing the number, You Mingxu froze completely.
It was the Chief.
She immediately stood up with her phone. Chen Feng lowered his head, picked up a bottle of mineral water from the table, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip. You Mingxu glanced at him before walking into the bedroom to answer the call.
"Chief."
In the police department, it was a den of old foxes outfoxing each other, wolves outwitting wolves. The Chief, nearing fifty, usually appeared amiable and spoke little. Yet most young officers in the department feared him. You Mingxu wasn't afraid, but she held genuine respect for the old man—after all, the wall of medals and commendations in his office spoke volumes. The number of criminals he had apprehended in his lifetime likely surpassed the number of suspects young detectives like You Mingxu had ever encountered.
The Chief first expressed his regards and praise for You Mingxu's achievements during her Tibet mission. You Mingxu stood ramrod straight, one hand behind her back, listening with full attention.
Then, the Chief shifted the topic: "I heard you also saved the famous writer Yin Feng?"
You Mingxu replied, "Yes. I didn't know his identity when I rescued him."
The Chief said kindly, "I've met him—a fine young man, a true talent. I'm also a fan of his books; I have a full signed collection at home. You probably don't know this, but Director Duan from the provincial department is his senior from Peking University and holds him in high esteem. Let me share something confidential: last year's shocking Chen County homicide case that rocked the nation—he was invited to create a Criminal Psychological Profile for it, which provided crucial reference value for solving the case. Moreover, his books have always served as excellent publicity and role models for the police system, conveying much positive energy. This man has been helpful and contributed to our police work. Of course, he's also a close personal friend of Director Duan."
You Mingxu hadn't expected this revelation and remained silent. She turned her head to glance at the living room, where Chen Feng—who had been waiting—immediately averted his gaze, pretending not to care. You Mingxu thought: You've got to be kidding me...
Sure enough, the Chief continued, "We're all deeply saddened by what happened to Writer Yin. Just the other day, Director Duan personally visited him. His assistant also explained the situation to us. Who would have thought he'd develop such a strong dependency on you, his savior? It's completely understandable. That's what they call post-traumatic stress disorder, right? To cut a long story short, both professionally and personally, I hope you can help Writer Yin as much as possible. Of course, this should not interfere with your work or personal life. Director Duan also asked me to convey his gratitude to you."
After hanging up, You Mingxu stood silently for a moment before returning to the living room.
The master and servant remained in their respective spots—one genuinely docile, the other scheming. You Mingxu and Chen Feng faced each other in silence for a while before she remarked sarcastically, "You even went as high as the Chief and Director? Quite the loyal protector. His mind may be unclear, but you just follow along?"
Chen Feng said, "Whether his mind is clear or not is his business. Carrying out his wishes is mine."
You Mingxu stated, "He cannot occupy any of my work time, and no one else can move into my home. If he exhibits any extreme or uncontrollable behavior, I will immediately kick him out."
Chen Feng hesitated briefly before replying, "Fine."You Mingxu fell silent, her fingers idly tapping on the table as she gazed at the balcony. Chen Feng stepped out and whispered something into Yin Feng's ear. Then You Mingxu saw Yin Feng scramble up from the ground and turn to look at her.
His eyes seemed to hold drifting clouds from the sky—bright yet misty.
You Mingxu's face remained expressionless as she quietly met his gaze.
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