The two of them arrived at the Sichuan restaurant, where Zhou Jin first asked the owner to pack nine boxed meals to be delivered to the Major Crimes Unit.

Since they were regulars at this establishment and were well acquainted with everyone there, they followed the usual arrangement — two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes — and had a server make the extra trip.

The people in the Major Crimes Unit had spent years being forged by relentless, back-to-back work until they had developed bodies of steel, impervious to all hardship, and were very easy to please when it came to food and drink.

Jiang Hansheng was different, however. He was refined and handsome, with skin as pale and luminous as white jade, carrying an air of cool elegance that extended from his appearance all the way to his innermost character. On the few dates they had shared, it had always been Jiang Hansheng who arranged the restaurant, and the caliber of those establishments was naturally far above this Sichuan eatery.

Zhou Jin had no idea what he liked. She held up the menu and stole a careful glance at him.

Jiang Hansheng was wiping down a small section of the table in front of him with a paper napkin. Once he was satisfied, he unwrapped two sets of cutlery and rinsed them carefully through twice with plain hot water, then pushed one set across to Zhou Jin.

Zhou Jin narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Professor Jiang.”

He responded, “Mm.”

“If I told you,” Zhou Jin said, “that I actually have a habit of ordering four dishes at a time and splitting them into three meals to take away — would you mind?”

Jiang Hansheng blinked, paused for quite a while, then said quietly, “Zhou Jin, my salary is decent enough. You don’t have to be so frugal.”

“It’s not about being frugal,” she said. “I hate wasting food.”

“…”

He was struggling to hold back his objection. “Can we negotiate?”

Zhou Jin was magnanimous about it. “Of course.”

Her mentor Tan Shiming, though a man of hard temperament, held people of knowledge and culture in exceptional regard. So even though Jiang Hansheng was so much younger than him, Tan Shiming still addressed him as “Professor Jiang” with every breath — which showed just how much he truly regarded Jiang Hansheng as a godsend.

Given the situation, she ought to take better care of him.

Besides, Zhou Jin had her own quiet calculations running in the back of her mind. Her mentor had forbidden her from investigating the “8·17” case, and for now, within the Major Crimes Unit, Jiang Hansheng was her only source of inside information.

She was attentive and warm toward him, propping her chin in her hand, eyes bright and dark, as she said, “Mentor has put me in charge of liaising with you, so we’ll be having meals together all the time from now on. Food is the people’s heaven — and you are my priority.”

Jiang Hansheng blinked again. He looked at the soft curve of her smiling eyes, where something mischievous seemed to glimmer.

He understood that Zhou Jin was joking, yet even so, he slowly found himself tasting something different within her words.

A smile touched the corner of Jiang Hansheng’s lips. “I think if the two of us order three dishes, that might be just right. My appetite is decent as well.”

Zhou Jin brightened. “Oh, that’s true.”

There were two of them now.

While they waited for the food, Zhou Jin brought up work. “The Guan Ling case — what leads have actually turned up?”

Jiang Hansheng answered, “This case should be classified as a crime of passion rather than a premeditated act. Though we can’t confirm that yet — we’ll need to wait for further verification.”

Zhou Jin hadn’t expected him to reach that kind of conclusion, and found herself disagreeing.

She raised her objection. “The killer chose to act in the dead of night, selected the remote and rarely-visited banks of the Tonghe River as the scene, took advantage of the recent rainy weather, and then disposed of the body after the killing — all of this was interfering with the police’s ability to gather evidence. That doesn’t look like a crime of passion to me. It looks more like something planned in advance.”

Jiang Hansheng cut straight to the point. “Then why would he choose a police-issue firearm as his weapon?”

Zhou Jin thought for a brief moment, then tapped her left forearm with her finger. “A year ago, Lai San’er’s left hand was crippled by someone. He’s always been an arrogant type — the kind who goes for the jugular — and a man like that is bound to have enemies. My guess is he was carrying the gun for self-defense.”

“I agree. But as you yourself just said — the gun was for self-defense, not for killing.” Jiang Hansheng’s gaze was calm and measured. “If this had been premeditated, if the target was just Guan Ling, then Lai Zhengtian could easily have chosen a far more ordinary weapon.”

Zhou Jin opened her mouth, then closed it again, unable to offer a response.

At that moment, a server brought out one of their dishes.

The server was a young girl — shy and bashful, with a faint flush blooming across her cheeks.

She greeted Zhou Jin first and asked, “Officer Zhou, you’re here — how come I don’t see anyone else?”

“Everyone’s busy.” Zhou Jin shifted her gaze to the girl and, noticing she was wearing the restaurant’s standard red uniform, smiled and asked, “So you’ve officially started working here?”

This young woman was A’Juan, the daughter of the Sichuan restaurant’s owner, and she shared a particular history with the Major Crimes Unit.

When A’Juan was attending university locally, she had fallen in with some unsavory people and picked up a drug habit, spending every bit of her living expenses on it. When she ran out of money but was afraid that asking her parents too frequently would tip them off, she decided to sneak back to the restaurant and take some herself.

Whether it was luck or misfortune for her, she happened to arrive just as the Major Crimes Unit had gathered there to celebrate having just cracked a homicide case.

Zhou Jin noticed her acting suspiciously, her expression not quite right, and watched her for a long time — then caught her in the act the moment she reached for the cash drawer.

One of the unit’s members had previously worked in narcotics and recognized at a glance that she was in the grip of withdrawal.

The commotion was significant. When the owner and his wife came out to find out what had happened, they learned for the first time what path their daughter had gone down. The mother in particular clutched her daughter and unleashed a torrent of scolding, crying and striking her in turns.

A’Juan was over twenty years old, and she had probably never seen her parents look so vulnerable and grief-stricken. Overcome with guilt and remorse, she knelt before them in tears and begged their forgiveness.

The case was handed over to the local precinct, where it was investigated and handled appropriately, and the matter was resolved as well as could be expected. She had since overcome her addiction, and after graduating had come to help her parents run the restaurant.

A’Juan smiled and nodded, her gaze drifting over to Jiang Hansheng. Her face flushed even deeper as she asked in a soft, gentle voice, “This officer is a new face — I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

Zhou Jin thought nothing of it — of course A’Juan wouldn’t recognize Jiang Hansheng — and casually introduced him. “This is Professor Jiang. He’s not one of our unit’s officers.”

“Oh, I see.” A’Juan smiled and greeted Jiang Hansheng. “Hello, Professor Jiang.”

Jiang Hansheng dipped his head politely. “Hello.”

A’Juan smiled at Jiang Hansheng and said, “I had the kitchen prepare a boiled fish dish. You’re welcome to finish eating before you go?”

Zhou Jin was just about to politely decline when Jiang Hansheng spoke first. “That’s alright — Zhou Jin finds fish too fishy for her taste, she doesn’t care for it. Thank you for the kind thought.”

A’Juan’s smile stiffened for just a moment, then quickly recovered. She had picked up on something in those words that told her these two were closer than ordinary acquaintances. She pressed her lips together knowingly and said, “Of course, then. Enjoy your meal. Officer Zhou, I’ll get back to work.”

Zhou Jin gave a small nod.

Once A’Juan had gone, Zhou Jin looked at him with puzzlement. “How did you know I don’t eat fish?”

Jiang Hansheng simply smiled.

Zhou Jin didn’t dwell too much on that small moment — her thoughts were still tangled up in the Guan Ling case.

“Where were we?”

Out of habit, she served Jiang Hansheng a chopstick-full of food first, then continued. “Lai San’er using a gun really was an unwise choice — but does that alone establish that it was a crime of passion?”

“Look at it from another angle,” Jiang Hansheng said. “Lai Zhengtian summoned Guan Ling to the Tonghe riverbank late at night — why would she go?”

Zhou Jin’s brow furrowed.

“According to Hongyun’s testimony,” Jiang Hansheng said, “Lai Zhengtian had sexually assaulted Guan Ling, and had used violent means to coerce her into selling herself over a prolonged period. For Guan Ling, I believe Lai Zhengtian represented terror itself.”

Going to a dangerous location, at a dangerous hour, to meet a dangerous person — how could Guan Ling have dared to go alone?

“She had a reason she couldn’t refuse?” Zhou Jin offered. “Lai San’er could have been threatening her.”

Jiang Hansheng shook his head. “Guan Ling went of her own free will.”

At the very least, the security footage from the Shangyue Hotel showed no signs of tension or anxiety in her as she waited for the taxi.

“Of her own free will?” Zhou Jin said.

Jiang Hansheng nodded. “Do you remember — the manager of the Shangyue Hotel mentioned that Guan Ling had told him she was done with this line of work, and wanted to go back to her hometown in the countryside.”

At that moment, Zhou Jin’s phone rang. It was Xiao Yang calling.

He launched straight in, his voice bright with excitement. “Is Professor Jiang with you?”

“Yes,” said Zhou Jin.

“He’s absolutely incredible!” Xiao Yang was barely containing himself, his pitch rising. “Tell Professor Jiang — we did exactly what he asked. We pulled every single private vehicle that passed along the Tonghe riverbank during the window around the time of the incident, every one that headed straight to the Haiji Expressway, and checked them all.”

The Haiji Expressway?

“There’s a van,” Xiao Yang continued. “The driver runs private fares, going back and forth between Haizhou City and Hongyan County on a regular basis.”

Hongyan County was Guan Ling’s hometown. To get from Haizhou City back to Hongyan County, the Haiji Expressway was the only route.

Because the incident occurred in the dead of night, traffic had been light; and along the stretch near the scene — the Tonghe riverbank — heading straight north would take you directly to the Haiji Expressway entrance, with no forks or turnoffs along the way.

This drastically narrowed the scope of reviewing the traffic surveillance footage, and new leads emerged quickly.

“If what Professor Jiang said is right,” Xiao Yang said, “and Guan Ling had been planning to go back to her hometown that night, then this driver was most likely the one coming to pick her up.”

After hearing all of this, Zhou Jin finally understood.

Based on Jiang Hansheng’s assessment, Lai San’er’s actions had not been premeditated — it had been a crime of passion. Which meant that from the very beginning, Lai San’er had never intended to kill Guan Ling.

Guan Ling held something over him — leverage that was perhaps lethal. Lai San’er had only wanted to put the matter to rest as quickly as possible. To that end, he had even offered Guan Ling terms she was willing to accept — perhaps that he would let her go, and arrange transport to take her home.

This was also consistent with what the manager of the Shangyue Hotel had said in his testimony.

That night, Guan Ling had taken a taxi out to the outskirts of the city alone — not because she was going to meet Lai San’er, but because she wanted to go home.

“The driver is still in the city right now. Brother Zhao and the others have already gone to find him,” Xiao Yang wailed. “Damn it, I’ve been running checks until I’m half out of my mind. All I want to do is go home and sleep for three days and three nights straight!”

Zhou Jin laughed, exhaling a long breath that carried all the lightness of clouds parting to let the sun through.

She ended the call and relayed what Xiao Yang had said to Jiang Hansheng, then asked, “How did you work it out?”

Jiang Hansheng was about to explain.

He had not been present at the scene, and could only draw preliminary inferences from the testimonies and physical evidence gathered by various parties. Before these inferences were verified, even he himself could not guarantee they were entirely correct.

As a consultant, Jiang Hansheng had only provided the direction of the investigation. The rest would require a great volume of repetitive, painstaking work to either confirm or disprove his reasoning.

Now that the police had found, through the traffic surveillance footage, the driver who had come to collect Guan Ling that night, his inference could finally be confirmed.

But just as Jiang Hansheng was about to speak, a sharp rush of chili hit the back of his throat. He turned aside reflexively, coughing against his hand for a long while, and then hurriedly drank several mouthfuls of tea before the fit gradually subsided.

His ears had gone completely red, and a faint flush had spread across his cheeks. His dark eyes shimmered with a watery gleam.

Zhou Jin finally noticed his distress. “?”

Jiang Hansheng’s throat ached, his voice coming out hoarse. “I’m sorry, Zhou Jin. It’s a bit too spicy for me.”

Zhou Jin: “…………”