Fifteen minutes later, a police car pulled up outside the restaurant.

Fang Zhen came upstairs to find Ruan Yu. “Ms. Ruan, if it’s convenient, please come with us to the scene and assist with this arrest operation.”

Li Shican stepped in front of her and asked Fang Zhen: “What’s the situation over there right now? What’s the suspect’s condition? Is he carrying any weapons? Will she be in danger if she goes? Can you guarantee everything will go without a hitch?”

“The special police unit is already on standby near the residence. Based on what we’ve confirmed so far, the suspect is currently in a stable state, and the possibility of him carrying a firearm has been largely ruled out. However, if we proceed with an immediate arrest, Mr. Ruan and Ms. Qu inside the residence would still face a threat to their personal safety.”

“We’re asking Ms. Ruan to cooperate in order to achieve a peaceful resolution through persuasion, and to avoid direct use of force wherever possible. The police will do everything in their power to protect the safety of everyone on the scene. Comrade, please trust us.”

Li Shican’s brow furrowed deeply. “If you need to talk the suspect down, what about your negotiation specialists? Your psychology experts?”

“The professionals will be in position at the same time, but given that the suspect reached out to Mr. Xu and Ms. Ruan for help during his time on the run, we believe she would play an irreplaceable role in the negotiation process. Of course,” he turned to Ruan Yu, “Ms. Ruan has no obligation to cooperate. If you have any reservations about this, you’re welcome to wait outside for news.”

Ruan Yu shook her head. “I’ll go with you.”

Xu Huaishi grabbed the hem of her clothes. “Sister…”

Ruan Yu gave her hand a light pat. “Don’t worry. Your brother said the same thing to the police over the phone.” She then looked at Li Shican. “You shouldn’t come along — if entertainment journalists spot you, it’ll only interfere with the operation. Can you look after Huaishi for me?”

Li Shican was quiet for a moment, then nodded. He added: “Remember — safety comes first.”

Ruan Yu got into the back seat of the police car.

Fang Zhen asked her a few questions about the situation at home, and after listening, he communicated with someone over the police radio. He then turned back and said: “Ms. Ruan’s parents are remarkably composed and clear-headed. They’ve bought the police a considerable amount of time. There are no abnormalities inside the residence at this moment.”

Sensing that this rather formal-speaking officer was making a rather clumsy attempt at reassurance, Ruan Yu managed a weak smile. “Thank you.” She paused, then asked, “Officer Fang, if it’s not too much trouble, could I learn more about the details of the case?”

He gave a nod. “The suspect and the deceased departed from Su Shi by car yesterday morning at eight o’clock. Road surveillance footage shows the suspect was at the wheel, but in addition to the most frequently appearing Fingerprint No. 1, Fingerprint No. 2, which belongs to the deceased, was also found on the steering wheel. This means we cannot rule out the possibility that the deceased may have driven during sections of the route where surveillance coverage was absent.”

“The dashcam memory chip is missing — believed to have been deliberately removed — so it’s impossible to determine the complete route. However, navigation records show that the suspect and the deceased were heading to the area near your parents’ home.”

So Zhou Jun had been bringing his girlfriend to visit his teacher.

Ruan Yu’s brow creased. She continued to listen.

“The crime scene is a remote stretch of road in the outskirts, near a mountainous area. Due to the absence of surveillance cameras, the exact details of what occurred are unknown. The body of the deceased was discovered outside the vehicle. The fatal injury was to the head, caused by a blunt force impact.”

“A cross-shaped rescue hammer — the type typically kept in cars for emergencies — was identified through forensic matching as the murder weapon. On its handle, the same Fingerprint No. 1 as found on the steering wheel was detected, along with Fingerprint No. 2 belonging to the deceased.”

Ruan Yu laced her fingers together, her index finger rubbing back and forth across her knuckle — as if trying to ease the tension that hung in the air — not daring to let her thoughts go any deeper.

“The deceased’s mobile phone was also found outside the vehicle. There is one key call record: at 10:32, at the time of the incident, the deceased called her father. During the call, she was heard screaming loudly for help, repeatedly shouting phrases like ‘Help me, let go of me, Zhou Jun.'”

“Additionally, a small piece of skin and flesh was found under the deceased’s fingernails, believed to have been taken from the perpetrator during the struggle. The DNA from this tissue, along with both Fingerprint No. 1 samples, will need to be verified against the suspect after he is apprehended.”

Though Fang Zhen’s choice of words had been largely precise and objective, by this point in the account — combined with the fact that Zhou Jun had fled afterward and refused to cooperate — the evidence already pointed in a particular direction. That was why the police had classified him as a prime suspect and issued a warrant for his arrest.

The vehicle sped toward the outskirts. Ruan Yu took a deep breath every two minutes, and with great effort managed to steady herself. Just as they were nearly home, she suddenly heard a commotion burst from the police radio.

She immediately sat upright. Fang Zhen grew serious as well, asking the other side for an update.

A male voice came through the radio: “The suspect discovered that Ms. Qu had called the police. He was triggered by this and is now holding Mr. Ruan at knifepoint — a fruit knife — and has taken him up to the rooftop terrace on the fourth floor. Our people have already climbed up from the back and are in position on the rooftop, but the negotiation specialist’s face-to-face efforts at persuasion have had no effect so far.”

“I’ll be there in three minutes.” Fang Zhen said this, then turned to look at Ruan Yu — expecting she might have been frightened to tears — only to find her sitting upright, staring straight ahead, perfectly still.

“Ms. Ruan, please make sure you…”

“I trust you.” Ruan Yu cut him off and gave him a nod.

Three minutes later, she and Fang Zhen stepped out of the car. At a glance she saw that the area below her building was packed — part of the crowd was made up of nearby neighbors, currently being guided away by the police, and the other part was officers preparing protective measures.

Fully inflated rescue air cushions were already in place, and an aerial ladder fire truck along with an ambulance were pulling in from not far away.

The whole environment was loud enough to make one’s head spin.

Qu Lan was being kept safe by officers at the outer perimeter. She turned, spotted Ruan Yu, and cried out through her tears: “Yuyu, your father, he…!”

Ruan Yu jogged over and looked up at the rooftop. Zhou Jun had Ruan Chengru in a chokehold, standing right at the edge of the rooftop terrace, his back to this side, facing off against the special police unit and negotiation specialists on the opposite side. He appeared to be in a highly agitated state.

She patted Qu Lan on the back, gritted her teeth, and forced herself to stay calm. “Mom, we’re not afraid.”

Fang Zhen brought over a police-issue concealed earpiece and told Ruan Yu to put it in. As he did, he explained: “The psychological pressure our people are putting on the suspect is too intense — he’s not listening to a single word being said. We have to ask them to temporarily withdraw from the back. A firefighter will assist you up the aerial ladder. You’ll communicate with the suspect briefly, doing your best to soothe him and stabilize his emotions.”

Ruan Yu nodded and pressed the concealed earpiece into her ear.

Beside her, Qu Lan tried to stop her. “Yuyu, you can’t go up there. You’re afraid of…”

“It’s fine, Mom.” She shook her head, then looked back at Fang Zhen. “Please continue, Officer Fang.”

“The negotiation specialist will stay in contact with you through this earpiece. Everything you and the suspect say to each other will be transmitted accurately down here.”

“Keep two things in mind: first, only do what is within your ability; second, the police guarantee that neither you nor the hostage will come to harm. In the worst case scenario…” He paused here, then raised a hand and pointed toward the building across the way.

From the look in his eyes, Ruan Yu guessed that a sniper had been positioned there.

The worst case scenario was not that she or her father would be hurt — it was that, if it came to it, the police would shoot the suspect dead.

A shudder ran through her. She nodded. “Understood.”

Ruan Yu took off her heels, and with the help of the professionals, climbed up the aerial ladder.

The special police unit that had been on the rooftop had already concealed themselves around the back of the building. Zhou Jun had just begun to relax slightly when he saw the aerial ladder slowly rising, and immediately tightened his grip on the knife against Ruan Chengru again. “Don’t come up, don’t come up!”

Ruan Yu quickly called up to him: “Zhou Jun, it’s me — it’s Ruan Yu! I’m alone! Just me!”

At the sound of her voice, Zhou Jun’s hand gave a slight tremble, and he instinctively took a step back toward the inner side of the rooftop.

Ruan Chengru, still the one being held hostage, actually smiled: “Son, don’t be afraid. Yuyu is just a little girl — she won’t hurt you.”

The ladder rose higher, and Ruan Yu was finally at eye level with them. She first met Ruan Chengru’s gaze, then spread her hands open for Zhou Jun to see. “Zhou Jun, don’t be afraid. It’s just me. I haven’t brought anything, I promise.”

Perhaps because of the unexpected comfort of it — two voices telling him not to be afraid — the knife in Zhou Jun’s hand grew visibly unsteady.

His eyes were rimmed red as he looked at Ruan Yu. “You… why did you come up here…”

The concealed earpiece relayed an instruction: “Tell him you believe him.”

She picked it up immediately. “I came to believe you.”

A flicker crossed Zhou Jun’s eyes, but it darkened again just as quickly. “Nobody will believe me. Once the prosecution gets the DNA comparison results, nobody will believe me anymore…”

Ruan Yu’s brow furrowed slightly.

The negotiation specialist’s voice came through the earpiece again: “Ask him why.”

“Why?”

“The dashcam footage is gone. The fingerprints are mine. And she…” His teeth began to chatter as he reached that point. “The flesh under her fingernails is mine too. That phone call — my name was in it. Too much of a coincidence. All of it is too much of a coincidence. Every single piece of evidence points at me. No surveillance cameras, no eyewitnesses — who would still believe me?”

“Then why did you reach out to Huaisong for help?”

“Because I didn’t kill anyone. I really didn’t kill anyone!” His agitation surged again. “Xu Huaisong’s father can argue black into white, can’t he? He could help me… he could help me, right?”

A frantic, unhinged light had appeared in his eyes, and it sent a chill through Ruan Yu.

But she bit down on her back teeth and tightened her grip on the ladder railing. “Zhou Jun, no one has the right to argue black into white. The only thing that can determine what is black and what is white is the black and white itself — and the only thing that can tell people which it truly is, is the law. Just over a month ago, I was deep in the agony of being falsely accused. But the law ultimately cleared my name. It can clear your name too. You have to believe in it, alright?”

“I don’t… I don’t believe in the law. I don’t believe in the police… They’re hunting for me. All of them are hunting for me!”

“But the law believes in you!” Ruan Yu’s voice rose slightly. “Even when you don’t believe in the law, the law still believes in you — it believes the suspect is innocent until proven guilty. You didn’t kill anyone. Then cooperate with the police and find the real culprit together. Give her the justice she deserves.”

“The real culprit? Will there even be a real culprit?” Zhou Jun suddenly let out a short laugh. “She got into a fight with me halfway through the trip. Right before we separated, she said she’d find a way to make me regret it… This is how she chose to make me regret it. There is no real culprit. There never was a real culprit!”

“There will be a real culprit. The police have already ruled out suicide. If it wasn’t you, then it was definitely someone else.”

Ruan Yu held his gaze steadily, adopting a measured, guiding tone as she conveyed — as naturally as she could — the words coming through the earpiece: “Zhou Jun, that last phone call she made — is there any chance it was meant for you? She said, ‘Help me, let go of me, Zhou Jun.’ But maybe what she meant wasn’t ‘let go of me, Zhou Jun’ — maybe it was ‘help me, Zhou Jun’…”

A look of disbelief appeared in Zhou Jun’s eyes. “What are you saying?”

Ruan Yu continued to guide him: “You said you two had separated after the argument, right? It’s possible that after you split up, she drove on and ran into the real culprit. Because she knew you were the closest person to her, she called out to you for help.”

“But while trying to operate her phone, she accidentally dialed her father — who was over a hundred kilometers away — because the real culprit was interfering. She was actually calling out to you. Not telling you to let go of her. This phone call — it can’t prove you’re guilty…”

Zhou Jun stood there, frozen, mouth agape. His hand went slack, and the fruit knife fell straight down. A wave of startled cries rose from the crowd below that had yet to fully disperse.

The special police unit concealed behind the building swiftly vaulted onto the rooftop and moved in to subdue him.

Ruan Yu’s legs went out from under her all at once — a dull thud sounded as her knees knocked against the railing.

At the same moment, the aerial ladder shifted closer to the rooftop, and the firefighter who was now within arm’s reach moved forward and brought her down, then went to assist Ruan Chengru.

As the aerial ladder slowly descended, Ruan Yu turned her head and looked back in the direction of the rooftop terrace.

There, Zhou Jun knelt on the ground, tears streaming in rivulets through his fingers.

He covered his face and kept repeating the same words over and over: “She didn’t use her death to take revenge on me. She didn’t use her death to take revenge on me…”

The arrest had been a success — and yet in this moment, the weight on Ruan Yu’s heart did not lift. If anything, it pressed down heavier and harder than before.

So that was it. Zhou Jun had fled because he believed the deceased had intended to use her own death to fabricate a chain of evidence against him as an act of revenge.

Then even if he one day walked out of the courthouse as an innocent man — how would he continue living, weighed down by guilt and remorse?

A love lost so narrowly. A separation that nothing in this world could undo.

The suspect was taken into custody, and the scene fell entirely quiet within half an hour.

Remembering Xu Huaishi, Ruan Yu called Li Shican, and learned that under Xu Huaisong’s remote arrangements, Liu Mao had already driven her back to Su Shi.

She then sent Xu Huaisong a message to let him know she was safe, then hurried off with the police to give her statement.

Ruan Chengru and Qu Lan were taken by medical personnel to the hospital for a full examination, and confirmed to have no injuries.

All three were safely sent home by police car — it was already past four in the afternoon.

As they walked through the front door, seeing that both mother and daughter still looked as though they hadn’t recovered from the shock, Ruan Chengru said with a cheerful grin: “Goodness, if someone who didn’t know any better saw you two right now, they’d think I hadn’t been rescued!”

“You old man, what nonsense are you talking?” Qu Lan shot him a sharp glare.

“Even if I were blind, that doesn’t make me mute — am I not even allowed to speak anymore?”

Ruan Yu put her left arm around her dad and her right arm around her mom and stepped in to make peace. “Alright, alright, stop bickering! It’s a holiday — what should we eat tonight?”

In her words and manner she deliberately steered around the afternoon’s ordeal, but both her parents could see right through it — she hadn’t quite recovered yet, and was forcing herself to seem light-hearted.

Qu Lan said: “I bought so many groceries when I knew you were coming. Let me go start cooking.”

“Forget it, don’t go to all that trouble. I want instant noodles.” Ruan Yu grinned and nudged the two of them back toward their room. “You two go rest for a bit. I’ll come crack eggs and cook the noodles at five. I’m going back to my room to make a call first, alright?”

Ruan Chengru gave her a sideways look. “Who are you calling? Little Xu? He’s in San Francisco — it’s past one in the morning there!”

“I know…” Ruan Yu pouted.

“Oh, you old man,” Qu Lan shot a glance at Ruan Chengru, “so what if it’s one in the morning? Even at two, three, or four — he’d still better pick up when our Yuyu calls!”

“Exactly!” Ruan Yu took her phone and went back to her room. She leaned against the door and dialed Xu Huaisong on voice call.

In that moment, she thought back to what he had said to her over the phone at noon.

He hadn’t told her exactly how to resolve the situation. He had simply told her to trust the police the same way she trusted him.

He was far away — too far to be of immediate help. He was a lawyer, not a god, not a superhero. In a moment like this, the only way to solve the problem was to place complete trust in the police and cooperate fully.

He had told her: if the police brought her to the scene, it wasn’t to send her to rescue her parents — it was to send her to rescue Zhou Jun. Once a hostage situation unfolded, the police would inevitably be able to rescue the hostage, but potentially only on the premise of shooting the suspect dead.

Her presence was there to protect the suspect.

So she didn’t need to be afraid of him.

The call was answered within two seconds. Ruan Yu let her voice drag out in a long, murmuring sound. “Xu Huaisong…”

Because he was in the hospital, in the middle of the night, Xu Huaisong’s voice was kept very low — and because of that, it sounded particularly gentle. He asked: “What’s this — you go and play the hero once, and I go from Huaisong to Xu Huaisong?”

He was joking to ease her exhaustion and lingering fear. Ruan Yu couldn’t quite manage a laugh, but his voice was exactly what she needed. “Mm. Say a little more.”

“Say what?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

At a time like this, shouldn’t he be busting out the “sweetheart, darling” repertoire and properly comforting her?

Ruan Yu ran out of patience. “Yes, go on, say something.”

Xu Huaisong let out a small laugh. “Aren’t I saying something right now? What’s gotten into you?”

“Hey, can’t you tell?” Ruan Yu let out a sigh. “I miss you.”

Author’s Note: The big dramatic scene is behind us now, everyone — are you ready to face the risk of coming down with diabetes?