Yan Qing had him sit down on the sofa, which put them at the right height difference for her gaze to meet his directly.

“Don’t move,” Yan Qing said, straightening his face with her hands. “I can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.”

“But Miss Yan just said she had steady hands…”

“Did I? Did I really say that?”

Shi Ting suddenly had the feeling of having boarded a pirate ship — but by the time Yan Qing had finished applying the shaving cream and raised the razor, it was already too late to jump overboard.

In order to do a proper job of shaving, Yan Qing brought her face very close to his — close enough that she could see every one of his eyelashes with perfect clarity.

When she focused, her eyes narrowed slightly — a look of complete absorption that shut out the rest of the world.

Shi Ting watched her quietly, his gaze growing ever softer. This side of her made him unable to resist the urge to draw closer and closer.

“Don’t move.” Yan Qing’s brows drew together. “Any disfigurement is at your own risk.”

Shi Ting immediately behaved himself, sitting perfectly still.

She wiped away the last bit of foam from his chin. The man’s face, now exposed, was clean and striking. Yan Qing was thoroughly satisfied with her work and gave his face a light pat. “Handsome, go wash your face.”

He leaned in to kiss her, only to be blocked by her palm. “Shi Ting, you haven’t washed your face yet.”

Shi Ting had no choice but to get up, somewhat deflated, taking the bag of peaches with him as he went.

When he returned, his face was freshly washed and the peaches had been neatly arranged on a fruit dish.

He picked out the best-looking one and offered it to Yan Qing. Just as she reached to take it, he drew it back and held it up to her lips, raising his eyebrows at her.

Yan Qing felt a little self-conscious, but leaned forward to bite the peach. The moment she parted her lips, his hand pulled back — and where the peach had been, there was suddenly a handsome face.

Carried by the momentum, Yan Qing’s lips met his.

Her eyes went wide with surprise, her fine lashes fluttering softly. Just as she was about to react, he gave her lips the lightest peck and murmured, “Even sweeter than the peach.”

Knock, knock!

At the sound of knocking, Yan Qing quickly stepped back two paces, putting distance between herself and Shi Ting. She turned her face away, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“Come in.” The one who had just been up to mischief spoke without so much as a twitch.

Bai Jin poked his head through the doorway, peered around carefully, then pushed the door fully open. After his previous experiences, he no longer dared to barge in without looking.

“Seventh Brother, the interrogation results are in — just need your signature.”

Bai Jin spotted the dish of peaches on the coffee table and shamelessly ventured, “Any chance I could have one?”

“No.” Shi Ting declined without a second thought.

Yan Qing laughed and picked one up, holding it out to him. “Don’t let the petty ones get you down.”

“Thank you, Sister-in-law — Sister-in-law is the best.”

Sister-in-law.

Shi Ting, still flipping through the documents, paused for a moment, as if carefully turning the word over in his mind. The more he considered it, the more natural it sounded — and in the end, the Director, now in excellent spirits, signed his name with a flourish and, in a rare display of magnanimity, asked after Bai Jin’s personal affairs.

“I heard you’ve been going on blind dates lately?”

Bai Jin blinked. “How did you know, Seventh Brother?”

He had not told anyone — though, come to think of it, Zheng Yun might have stumbled upon him.

“Was it that big-mouthed Zheng Shushi who told you?”

“I guessed.”

Bai Jin took a bite of his peach. “I was pushed into it. My second aunt says I’m not getting any younger and can’t stay single forever. And working at the Military Police Bureau means irregular hours — there’s simply no time to get to know anyone. So she introduced me to a couple of women.”

Shi Ting considered this with a thoughtful expression. “Ah, so it’s the Military Police Bureau that has cost you your happiness. Perhaps I should consider giving you some leave.”

“Please don’t, Seventh Brother — I don’t want leave.” Bai Jin nearly choked on his peach. “If I were sitting at home with nothing to do, my second aunt would haul me off on ten or eight blind dates without blinking. You have no idea what kind of women she introduces — every one of them is a specimen. One claimed to be eighteen, but looked closer to eighty. Another had this delicate, coy little voice, but her waist was three times the width of mine. I had to choose every single word with her so carefully, terrified of saying the wrong thing and having her sit on me.”

Yan Qing could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing.

Bai Jin gave her a sideways look. “Sister-in-law, don’t laugh — not everyone is as lucky as Seventh Brother, finding someone as beautiful and kind and impossibly brilliant as you.”

“It seems the peach wasn’t wasted.” Yan Qing smiled. “Your mouth has gotten considerably sweeter.”

“It has.” Bai Jin said, already reaching a shameless hand toward the fruit dish again.

Feeling the weight of Shi Ting’s pressuring gaze, he immediately broke into an awkward grin and offered an explanation. “I’m grabbing one for Zheng Shushi — he just finished interrogating a suspect and his throat is parched. I’m looking out for a colleague.”

“I don’t need it.” Zheng Yun pushed the door open and walked in, his expression grave. “Seventh Brother, there’s a case.”

At the word “case,” everyone’s demeanor shifted at once.

Zheng Yun said, “We’ve just received a civilian report. A male body has been discovered in the guardhouse of the Min’an Textile Mill.”

“Just finished one, and now there’s another — can’t even catch a breath.” Bai Jin quickly finished off his peach. “With law and order this strict in Shun Cheng, are there really people reckless enough to keep committing crimes?”

“Stop complaining.” Zheng Yun cast him a disdainful look. “We can’t guarantee every murder is solved — inevitably, some people will take the chance and try their luck. It’s only when our case clearance rate improves further that they’ll think twice.”

In Yan Qing’s era, nearly every bureau operated under one standing rule: no murder goes unsolved.

Modern technology had grown so advanced that DNA analysis had cracked serial murder cases dating back over twenty years. But here in Xin Guo, fingerprint matching still had to be done by hand, the equipment available for testing was painfully outdated, and there was no question of any fingerprint database or DNA library.

That the Military Police Bureau had achieved what it had was already something close to a miracle.

“The Min’an Textile Mill belongs to Third Brother-in-law, Liu Huan.” Shi Ting handed the signed documents to Bai Jin. “I’ll go in person.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Yan Qing. “I can ask Mr. Liu about the non-woven fabric matter while we’re there.”

“All right.” Shi Ting checked his watch. “Let’s go.”

The Min’an Textile Mill was located on the outskirts of the city. A stretch of residential housing surrounded it; years ago, many of the local residents had relocated to make way for the factory, and the houses that remained were mostly occupied by workers and their families.

The streets in this area were narrow, the buildings ramshackle, refuse scattered along both sides of the road. Children in tattered clothing squatted in doorways playing in the mud, and the sight of a passing vehicle sent them running excitedly in pursuit. Old Zhao had no choice but to slow the car to a crawl, afraid of hitting one of them.

“These are all workers’ families,” Shi Ting explained to Yan Qing. “Both parents work at the textile mill, and with no one to watch the children, they put up temporary housing here. During the day while the parents are at work, the children are left to play on their own.”

Yan Qing reflected that it was fortunate child traffickers were rare in this era. With no family planning policy in place, many households had child after child — they could barely feed their own, let alone take anyone else’s.

Past the stretch of hastily-built ramshackle houses, the road opened up before them. Around a bend, the large characters reading “Min’an Textile Mill” came clearly into view.

“This factory used to belong to the imperial household,” Shi Ting said. “It passed through several hands, and now Third Brother-in-law is the majority shareholder.”

Liu Huan held interests in many enterprises throughout Shun Cheng; the Min’an Textile Mill was just one of them, its primary function being the production of raw fabric.

When the factory was running at full capacity, it operated day and night without pause, with workers rotating in two shifts — which explained why so many people had built temporary homes in the surrounding area.

The scene of the crime was right at the factory entrance, where a guardhouse had been built directly beside the main gate. It was manned around the clock.

After the incident, a crowd had gathered around the guardhouse to gawk. These onlookers had no understanding of how to preserve a scene, and the area had been thoroughly compromised as a result.

Bai Jin was always furious when this happened, though there was little he could do about it — in an era when public awareness had not yet fully developed, one could not expect everyone to understand criminal investigation procedure.

“The ground outside the guardhouse has no evidence worth collecting anymore,” Bai Jin said with regret. “Seventh Brother, let’s go inside and have a look.”

Trace evidence examination came before the forensic examination. Only once all checks were complete and the examination boards were laid down could the forensic examiner enter the scene.

While they waited, Yan Qing wheeled herself around to take in the area surrounding the factory entrance.

It was a large compound, with four rows of factory buildings inside — and two two-story structures, one serving as the office and canteen, the other as a warehouse.

There was almost no greenery in the courtyard, only a few poplar trees whose leaves had already turned yellow and lay in a thick carpet on the ground.

“They say there are over two hundred people working in this factory. If the culprit is among them, this investigation is going to take some doing.” E’Yuan said from beside Yan Qing, shrugging his shoulders.

“As long as it isn’t a case of a transient offender passing through, everything else can be managed.”

In every era, transient offenders were the most troublesome of all — they had no fixed targets, sometimes committed crimes entirely at random, and fled elsewhere immediately after. Without advanced tracking technology, finding them in an ocean of people was nearly impossible.

“Sister-in-law, E’Liang Ping — you can come in now.” Bai Jin stood at the entrance and waved them over.

E’Yuan startled and looked down at Yan Qing. “Master, what did Team Leader Bai just call you?”

Yan Qing’s face reddened slightly. “That man has never had any sense of propriety.”

E’Yuan rubbed his chin. “I think it’s a fine thing to call you, actually. Seventh Brother has already sent betrothal gifts to Master’s family — sooner or later Master will marry him. Calling you Sister-in-law seems entirely reasonable.”

Yan Qing gave him a helpless look. “You’re trying to chase me away, aren’t you?”

“Not at all, not at all.” E’Yuan grinned. “It’s only when you’re here that I feel at ease, Master — please don’t go anywhere.”

“I heard from Shi Ting that you handled the murder case at the Tongtai Street tofu shop very well.”

“Master overpraises me — it’s all thanks to Master’s guidance.”

Yan Qing smiled, feeling a quiet warmth in her heart. She thought: before long, this young forensic examiner would be able to hold his own independently.

“Sister-in-law, brace yourself,” Bai Jin said by way of kind warning as they reached the door. “The scene is… rather grim.”

—