This person moved in absolute silence, his movements light and fluid — so much so that he had already reached behind Yan Qing without her detecting the slightest awareness of his presence.

Yan Qing may not have heard him, but the shadow he cast on the wall grew steadily more distinct, like an enormous dark shape pressing down over her.

Even for someone as bold as she was, in surroundings like these, she couldn’t help being startled. Just as she was about to turn around, the figure had already covered her mouth from behind, and the electric torch in her grip tumbled to the ground.

The light from the torch fell on a pair of black leather boots, framing the figure’s long, straight legs.

Yan Qing’s heart sank. Coming to a murder scene in the dead of night — could this be the killer? Had he returned for some overlooked piece of evidence? Whatever the case, given the ruthlessness this killer had demonstrated, her present situation was extremely dangerous.

“Who are you?” The voice from behind, deliberately lowered, carried a sharp and pressing force. The palm covering her mouth held a faint, dry warmth.

Yan Qing caught sight of the man’s sleeve out of the corner of her eye. The black cuff was adorned with three gold buttons.

This was…

She shook her head firmly and pointed at her own mouth.

Perceiving her meaning, the figure gradually released his hand. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before asking urgently: “Are you from the Military Police Bureau?”

The buttons on his cuff — she had seen them before at the Yan estate. They were part of the Military Police Bureau’s uniform. Real or not, saving her own life came first.

The figure seemed to pause for a moment, but he did not deny it. Instead, his voice fell heavily: “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Yan Qing freed herself from his hold and turned her wheelchair around. In the bright moonlight, she could make out his features clearly — and couldn’t help exclaiming in surprise: “Director Shi?”

The tall, upright young man before her was none other than the Director of the Military Police Bureau whom she had glimpsed earlier while feeding the fish.

Shi Ting had also recognized the girl in front of him. Though it had been only a passing glance from the arched bridge, he had a face-perfect memory, and besides, this girl’s looks were striking enough to leave a lasting impression. “You’re one of the Yan Family’s misses?”

“I am Yan Qing.” Because she was seated in a wheelchair, this Director Shi — standing at least 185 centimeters tall — meant that speaking with him required her to tilt her head back. “Good evening, Director Shi.”

“If you’re one of the Yan Family’s misses, why would you come here at this hour? Do you know what kind of place this is?” Shi Ting glanced up at the placard above the main hall: the four characters for “Quiet Brings Achievement Far” hung there in bold. “This is a crime scene. Anyone who enters without authorization is considered a suspect.”

“Director Shi flatters me,” Yan Qing replied with a faint press of her lips. She turned the wheelchair to one side and retrieved the torch she had dropped. “The killer is male, approximately 185 centimeters tall, brutal and ruthless, efficient in method, with exceptional psychological composure. If not a professional assassin, then someone with a military background.”

She looked over at Shi Ting. “If my deductions are correct, Director Shi would seem to fit the profile of a suspect rather well.”

Shi Ting: “…”

She was actually suspecting him?

Shi Ting finally took a proper look at the girl in front of him. She appeared extremely slight and fragile, her complexion carrying a sickly pallor. The fingers resting on her knees were delicate and slender, and beneath those fine hands, a blanket was draped over her legs, concealing them entirely.

He had heard a little about this Yan Family Sixth Miss: her mother had died young, and the patriarch doted on her particularly — but it was her misfortune that a serious illness in childhood had left her disabled, her legs unable to walk ever since.

What he had heard was that the Yan Family Sixth Miss was timid and meek, easily dominated by all. The young woman in front of him, however, seemed nothing like the rumored version.

It was true — one ought never to believe everything people say.

Shi Ting glanced at the spot the torch had been illuminating. He couldn’t see anything especially remarkable about it, and asked: “What were you looking at?”

—