Come to think of it, this was only Yue Mingxu’s second visit to Yin Feng’s home. Last time, she had arrived in high spirits but left disappointed after encountering Yin Feng’s messy romantic entanglement, completely losing her appetite and, by extension, any fondness for this place. Yin Feng had been perceptive afterward, never mentioning visits to his home again. Now that Yue Mingxu thought about it, perhaps Yin Feng had already sensed what was developing between them.

The night was deep and quiet.

Yue Mingxu got out of the taxi and stood outside the courtyard gate. With a “click,” the iron gate opened, revealing the old man she had met once before, who opened the door with a smile and said respectfully, “You’ve arrived, please come in.”

Yue Mingxu said, “Thank you,” and followed him in. Looking at his perpetually hunched back and his tense, nervous reactions to police presence, she felt some sympathy and said, “Thank you for your trouble.”

Old Nine could kill enemies and cut off prison bullies’ ears, but he feared the police the most, especially having heard that Yue Mingxu was a famously formidable female officer, which made him particularly anxious. Yet he hadn’t expected this cold police officer to have such a gentle side in private.

Old Nine felt moved. Originally, he had been inclined to oppose anything between Yin Feng and Yue Mingxu. Master Yin had said it himself—those who follow different paths cannot work together. Master Yin taking in people like them was already unusual enough. But now, he felt this female officer might not be as frightening as he had imagined.

Old Nine silently led Yue Mingxu to the main house, watching until she entered before turning to leave. Meanwhile, Yue Mingxu felt that all of Yin Feng’s people seemed to share some inexplicable stubborn streak. Old Nine hadn’t done much, but Yue Mingxu sensed something in him that was similar to Tuya, Huashou, and even Chen Feng, who had accompanied the mentally impaired Yin Feng in his madness.

Chen Feng was already waiting in the living room and quickly rose to escort her upstairs. It was impossible to expect Yin Feng himself to come downstairs to greet her—Master Yin was too proud for that. But Chen Feng had developed something of a friendship with Yue Mingxu and felt it would be impolite not to welcome her, so he took it upon himself to handle this small duty for his master.

Yue Mingxu, unlike these household staff-cum-psychopaths, didn’t think so much about such things. Upstairs, Chen Feng knocked lightly twice on the study door, and that deep, magnetic voice came from within: “Come in.”

Chen Feng opened the door, waited for Yue Mingxu to enter, then quietly closed it and went downstairs to instruct everyone in the house not to disturb the study tonight. Not even if the sky was falling.

Yue Mingxu paused as she entered.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the deep, silent night. Inside, however, it was brightly lit, like daylight. He wasn’t sitting behind his desk but stood with his back to her beside a bookshelf. When investigating with her the past few days, the awakened Yin Feng had always dressed sharply with an air of wildness and wickedness. Today, at home, he wore a white sweater and casual pants. His body still cut a tall, prominent, and slim figure.

He turned around, surprisingly wearing anti-radiation glasses, which gave his handsome face just the right scholarly air. He walked to the desk and sat down, removing his glasses, saying, “Please sit.”

They sat facing each other, with a pot of tea already prepared on the desk. He rinsed her cup, discarded the first pour, and filled it with the second pour, placing it before her.

Yue Mingxu: “Thank you.”

The mature man’s lips curved slightly: “You’re welcome. Thank you for coming.”

Yue Mingxu: “No need for thanks. You got the ‘Brother Yu’ information from Xiang Rong’s interrogation—we’re even.”

Yin Feng raised his eyebrows and said lightly: “Fine.”

Yue Mingxu crossed her long legs, resting both hands on the armrests, and said: “Tell me, what have you discovered?”

Yin Feng slowly leaned back, unconsciously observing her. She had come straight from work, looking busy all day with disheveled hair and cheeks flushed from the cold wind. There were even mud spatters on her pant legs. Everything about her carried a simple, ordinary air.

Yet her sitting posture was remarkably bold. Reading body language, such a posture could only be properly carried off by a woman who was both graceful and domineering. Most people would show timidity first. But she sat there quietly as if it were her throne…

Yin Feng withdrew his gaze. He’d gotten distracted.

He picked up the tablet from the desk, played the surveillance footage, and placed Chen Feng’s phone showing the voice and text message records between “himself” and Chen Feng in front of Yue Mingxu.

…

Yue Mingxu had always known that this Yin Feng, after regaining his faculties, had lost his previous memories—they had only spent half a year together, while he had forgotten over a year’s worth of events. Brain matters were unpredictable. So she hadn’t been suspicious before. Besides, when it came to Yin Feng’s broken brain, she had become numb to it all.

But hearing Yin Feng’s reasoning now, she was still shocked.

If Yin Feng had previous connections with that organization, it would explain why Gu Tiancheng had directed suspicion toward him that day on the mountain.

But looking at the surveillance footage, it was undeniably Yin Feng’s back view, profile, and build. She glanced at him and said, “Are you sure this isn’t you? After all, your brain…”

She stopped.

Yin Feng looked at her, his gaze cold and faint, saying, “Even if I’m missing some memories, I know in my heart what I have and haven’t done.”

Yue Mingxu was silent for a moment, then smiled.

Yin Feng suddenly understood the meaning behind her mocking smile, and he too fell silent. The tablet lay on the desk between them as they watched. Now, Yue Mingxu watched the tablet while he watched her. Even the steam rising from their teacups seemed filled with a quiet, indescribable atmosphere.

“Still holding a grudge?” he asked softly.

Yue Mingxu felt a pain deep in her chest, but her expression remained neutral: “How self-important are you? Holding a grudge against you? Continue.”

She then felt Yin Feng’s dark eyes linger on her face before moving back to the desk as he said, “For that period in Guizhou, I hope you can use some resources to check the surrounding surveillance, vehicle records, population movement, and so on. See if we can find any clues.”

Yue Mingxu was about to agree but instead said, “You could ask the director or chief—they have higher clearance.”

Yin Feng took a sip of tea and said, “A criminal investigation team’s clearance is enough for these resources. Besides, I don’t want too many people to know about my situation. Since you’re already involved, you’re naturally my best collaboration partner.”

Yue Mingxu also drank her tea, raised her eyebrows, and answered decisively: “Alright.”

“If you need financial, material, or human resources, you can ask Chen Feng,” he added.

Yue Mingxu nodded, looked up at him, and found him looking at her too. They gazed at each other for a while, neither speaking.

She said: “Nothing else?”

“No.”

She stood up and left.

Yin Feng remained seated, watching her leave, then poured himself several more cups of tea. After finishing, he rose to clean up the tea set. Her cup still had half a cup of tea left. Yin Feng picked it up, about to put it back on the tea tray, then paused.

He couldn’t quite describe the feeling. Since waking, he had only felt a vague, even physically-driven familiarity with this woman. But he had already drawn a line in his heart between them. Yet after her visit tonight and departure, he found his gloomy mood about being manipulated by that organization had improved considerably, and he even felt somewhat reluctant to see her go. It was as if some dim yearning in his heart had finally been given a taste of sweet dew, finding some comfort.

He stared at the teacup in his hand, the tea clear and still warm.

He remembered clearly how she had drunk her tea. Gulping it down, the small teacup emptied in one go, then set down firmly—forget appreciating the tea, she hadn’t even smelled his top-grade West Lake Dragon Well.

Thinking of this, Yin Feng smiled, looked at the remaining tea again, and fell silent for a moment, feeling his throat grow dry and itchy.

After staring for a while, he poured the remaining tea into the trash and tossed the cup back onto the tea tray.