Several police cars surrounded the single-story house from front to back. Just as You Mingxu pushed open the car door, Xu Mengshan had already rushed out. Seeing her partner in such a state made You Mingxu’s heart sink even further.

The house was empty, with only a dagger and a length of rope lying on the ground. You Mingxu examined the scene carefully and found no obvious signs of struggle. Looking up, she caught sight of Xu Mengshan jumping into the air-raid shelter in the corner of the house. She rushed over and lay prone at the entrance, asking urgently, “What’s the situation?”

Xu Mengshan swept his flashlight around quickly, finally focusing on the scattered ropes and other traces on the ground. It was clear someone had been held captive here. He bit his lip and answered, “No one’s here.”

“Xu,” Yin Feng called out. You Mingxu turned to see him pick up a backpack from the bed and dump out its contents—clothes, money, and a wallet scattered across the floor. You Mingxu darted over, grabbed the wallet, and flipped it open to find ID cards and bank cards. She looked up, meeting his eyes.

“They haven’t gone far!” she said.

Yin Feng nodded.

You Mingxu rushed out of the room, shouting to the other officers, “Search the surrounding area immediately!” Yin Feng helped Xu Mengshan climb out of the shelter, and Xu Mengshan took off running the moment his feet touched the ground. Yin Feng instinctively followed, watching the police officers ahead running as if their lives depended on it. His heart ached to see his Yu at the front of the pack.

Half an hour later, the police discovered suspicious bloodstains on a street one kilometer from the house. The blood had dried, indicating it was at least several hours old. Local Criminal Investigation Team Leader Han Feng immediately ordered the collection of surveillance footage from cameras near the suspicious location. Another hour passed before they finally found a functioning camera at a distant street corner and retrieved the footage, though the images were blurry and distant.

—

In the Huai City Police Station conference room, Old Tan, You Mingxu, Han Feng, Xu Mengshan, and other key officers on the case, including Yin Feng, were watching a twenty-second video.

The quality was poor, with static and scan lines. The timestamp showed 4:02 AM that morning. A man and woman walked down the empty street, their backs to the camera. The woman wore the same clothes Fan Jia had on when she disappeared.

“That’s Fan Jia!” You Mingxu said. The others nodded—they could recognize their colleague instantly after working together for so long. Only Xu Mengshan remained silent, his face flickering in the projector’s light as he stared at the screen.

“The man is Chen Zhaoci,” Han Feng said. “Judging by his build, it has to be.”

Just then, an extremely large and muscular shadow suddenly burst into the frame from below, wielding an iron hammer that he swung at Fan Jia.

Even these hardened detectives couldn’t help but cry out.

Fan Jia lay motionless in a pool of blood.

The attacker wore a black hoodie, his face never visible. He swung the hammer again at Chen Zhaoci, who was lying on the ground and went still. The man bent down, hoisted Fan Jia onto his shoulder, and walked out of frame.

The conference room fell silent.

The officer in charge of reviewing the footage said, “This is from about half an hour later.”

It was still dark, and only Chen Zhaoci remained. He stirred and stumbled to his feet, and everyone could see his hands were bound with rope under his sleeves. Blood flowed from his head as he looked around, seemingly searching for something. Finally, he too ran out of frame.

—

Yin Feng walked out of the restroom to find that familiar figure standing by the railing. Dusk had fallen, and the wind had picked up. She put a cigarette between her lips and tried to light it, but failed. Her face remained expressionless as she tried again and again. Despite the wind, she didn’t think to shield the flame, as if she were locked in a battle of wills with the lighter. Finally, she snapped, throwing both the cigarette and lighter into the nearby trash bin.

After days of running around, her ponytail had half-fallen out, but she didn’t bother fixing it. She ran her hands through her long hair and leaned forward on the balcony.

Yin Feng had never seen her so anxious.

With Fan Jia attacked and missing, the police launched a carpet search of the area but found nothing. It was far too easy to hide someone in the crowded, densely populated old district. They had brought in witnesses and suspects for questioning one after another. During a break in the interrogations, Yin Feng stumbled upon this side of You Mingxu.

He walked to her side and habitually stretched his arms on the railing, like a young boy. Before he could speak, You Mingxu said, “Go away, I don’t want to talk.”

Even Yin Feng, skilled in psychology and accustomed to wheedling his way through situations, didn’t know how to comfort her. Finally, he said the most cliché thing possible: “If you’re feeling bad, just cry it out.”

You Mingxu let out a derisive laugh. “Cry? The person’s still missing and you want me to wallow in self-pity here?”

Yin Feng paused before saying, “The person’s still missing, and you’re here throwing tantrums at lighters?”

This finally earned him a proper look from You Mingxu, though her expression was thunderous.

“Yu Yingjun, I see you don’t want to keep the Yu surname anymore,” she said.

But Yin Feng just smiled and declared with considerable swagger, “A real man neither changes his name nor his seat.”

It seemed that whenever she felt depressed, this guy would show up with his jokes, and she’d feel a little better. When another colleague passed by, You Mingxu borrowed another lighter and lit up another cigarette, her demeanor noticeably less agitated.

They stood side by side watching the dusk deepen into a black net that seemed to envelop the entire city.

“If Xu is feeling down, you can lean on my shoulder,” Yin Feng said. “Physical comfort between people has its benefits. In other words, leaning on me will give Xu some strength.”

You Mingxu just smiled with narrowed eyes: “No thanks.”

A few seconds later, a heavy head pressed against her shoulder. You Mingxu glanced at him sideways—such a tall person, wasn’t he worried about twisting his back? He even had his eyes closed, his face peaceful.

“Then Xu can give me strength,” he said.

You Mingxu didn’t respond, nor did she push him away. She ignored the occasional passerby who stopped to look. These days Yin Feng didn’t wear cologne, but he always smelled nice. Sometimes like shower gel, sometimes like Florida water, and sometimes when he spilled his morning milk on his clothes, he carried a faint dairy scent. All clean, fresh smells. His hair was soft too, pressing against her neck, stirring indescribable feelings—intimacy, purity, desire, and being desired.

After a long while, You Mingxu turned her head and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

Yin Feng’s entire heart trembled at that feather-light kiss. He slowly looked up, but You Mingxu was staring straight ahead, her expression cool as she said, “Get up, let’s review our thoughts.”

Yin Feng: “Oh…”

You Mingxu said, “Initially, a year ago, college graduate Zhao Feier, who was caught up in Fenjin Bao Company’s campus loan scheme, went missing and was killed. Everyone at Fenjin Bao Company had alibis, and their fingerprints didn’t match. Zhao Feier also didn’t fit their target profile. The real killer who murdered Zhao Feier was someone else.”