Chen Chuan wanted to say something on behalf of his girlfriend’s idol.
The words were still at the back of his throat when Director Meng walked in, travel-worn and hurried.
Everyone lined up in a row.
Shen Yan, who had been lounging in his chair, sprang up reflexively.
Meng Xinya noticed his condition at a glance. In her heart, Shen Yan was the perfect child of destiny, blessed with enviable family circumstances as well.
Director Meng glanced at her but said nothing. With his hands clasped behind his back, he went straight to the point. “Regarding the disappearance case of Xie Jingnan from six months ago, it’s now being transferred to your squad, with Shen Yan in charge.” His gaze landed on the latter’s clear, handsome face not far away.
The face was good-looking, but the stubble had truly grown long.
“Shen Yan, do you have any questions?”
“I do.”
The two then went to Shen Yan’s office. He first boiled a pot of hot water, then took out a packet of Dahongpao tea from Mincheng.
The water bubbled ceaselessly in the teapot. Director Meng sat across from Shen Yan, feeling that this seat was somewhat uncomfortable.
“Say whatever you need to say directly. Don’t hide anything.”
With that said.
Shen Yan placed the poured tea in front of Director Meng and said casually, “This was a gift from Lu Wenjing. Director Meng, have a taste.”
He fished a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pants pocket. The lighter made a crisp clicking sound as he tilted his head slightly to light the cigarette. A trace of crimson glowed bright and dim by turns.
His demeanor was somewhat cold and aloof. “Transfer Xinya away. She’s not suited for the criminal investigation unit.”
Director Meng had already guessed with near certainty that this was what it was about before he even walked in.
He had always known that Meng Xinya liked Shen Yan. Among the rowdy bunch from the military compound, some had joined the army and some had gone into business. Meng Xinya had met Shen Yan once by chance, and from then on had willingly followed him. She was his only daughter, and since Meng Xinya wanted to come to the criminal investigation unit, he had indulged her.
Unexpectedly, this matter was now being brought up directly. Director Meng felt somewhat embarrassed, but he still had to maintain his dignity.
“If she’s truly unsuited, then transfer her away. We can’t let it affect your casework either.”
“Alright. If there’s nothing else, take your time leaving.”
Director Meng: “…”
He rose helplessly. After opening the door, he seemed to think of something and turned back. “The criminal investigation unit needs to maintain its image too. Shave that stubble clean. You’re only in your early twenties—don’t make yourself look like an old man.”
Shen Yan raised his eyes, signaling him to leave, then reached up and touched his own stubble. “Hiss,” it was indeed a bit long.
After Director Meng left, he gave Meng Xinya a few separate instructions.
She sat at her desk feeling wronged, and in the end, didn’t even go out for the casework.
That night, everyone was organizing leads at the police station.
Shen Yan stood up and knocked on the desk. Everyone looked up in unison at the relationship chart on the small blackboard.
He swept his gaze across everyone present, his eyes sharp and piercing, and said in a deep voice, “Chuan, you go first. Tell us about the leads Qin Lang provided.”
“Yes, boss. There’s a photo on Qin Lang’s desk—it only has him and Xie Aixian in it. Also, since Xie Jingnan went missing, although he’s put on a pained expression, there’s one thing—the eyes don’t lie. There’s always a sense of relief about him. Additionally, some colleagues said he likes secretly watching livestreams in his office. On Douyin, he only follows one influencer.”
Then his gaze landed on Shen Yan’s deep, dark eyes. “It’s Wen Xin. Her influencer name is Little June.”
In a mere second, Shen Yan concealed the emotions in his eyes.
“Go on.”
“Qin Lang and Wen Xin are neighbors. According to him, the victim Xie Aixian often brought snacks to Wen Xin, and always late at night. Take this mung bean cake for example—all signs point to one possibility: Qin Lang’s feelings for Wen Xin may be more than just a fan’s admiration, and Xie Aixian knew about it but didn’t stop it?”
Shen Yan paced back and forth in front of his desk, deep in thought. “That possibility can’t be ruled out.”
“Shisan, the mung bean cake has been analyzed—whose fingerprints are on it?”
Jiang Shisan distributed the files to everyone present, saying as he did, “Besides Qin Lang, Xie Aixian, and Wen Xin, there’s one more set of fingerprints, preliminarily identified as belonging to a staff member at the cake shop. When I visited the shop this morning, I learned that the colleague who sold this mung bean cake to Xie Aixian has resigned.”
“The most important point—the security department found that Qin Lang has been privately messaging Wen Xin to meet up every time she livestreams.”
Shen Yan suddenly remembered something. “Nami, pull up the surveillance footage of Qin Lang and Wen Xin arriving together at the police station lobby last night. Shisan, open the surveillance from Wen Xin’s home last night—hurry!”
The footage was enlarged. Shen Yan’s gaze darted between the two monitors. One showed the video of Qin Lang and Wen Xin entering the police station one after another the night before—
Analyzing it from either a man’s or a woman’s perspective, the way Qin Lang looked at Wen Xin was anything but innocent. And the way Wen Xin looked at Shen Yan… also seemed far from innocent…
Meanwhile, after Shen Yan had taken Wen Xin away from Xizi Bay last night, sure enough, Qin Lang climbed over the balcony into Wen Xin’s home, sneaked into the bedroom, and lay down on her bed. The scene was unsightly…
His eyes turned cold and sinister, his magnetic voice barely containing his fury. “Dispatch a unit—bring Qin Lang in!”
Shen Yan turned around, staring at the mechanical voice coming from his phone, a bad premonition rising in his heart.
“Boss, where are you going?”
“Looking for someone.” There was no warmth in his eyes. He pressed his lips together, a storm gradually brewing in his gaze.
Yuehu Jing.
Wen Xin had bought some daily necessities, fruits, and vegetables at the neighborhood supermarket, thinking that no matter what, she had to show Shen Yan what she could do.
To conquer a man, you must first capture his stomach.
She didn’t know if Shen Yan’s tastes had changed over the years, but her cooking was at the level of a small stir-fry restaurant.
Thinking about having dinner with Shen Yan later, her joy was written all over her face as she hummed a little tune:
“Sweet honey, you smile so sweetly, like flowers blooming in the spring breeze, blooming in the spring breeze…”
Truly a beauty with a sweet voice—why hadn’t Shen Yan fallen for her yet?
She walked along, only realizing that the neighborhood was so large that she barely saw anyone.
Her left eyelid kept twitching nonstop.
Subconsciously, she pulled out her phone from her bag and saw that Shen Yan had already called her many times.
Just as she was about to call him back—
Suddenly, a figure appeared behind her. Under the faint moonlight, she could tell it was an elderly person, leaning forward, holding something inexplicable in her hand.
But when had she appeared behind her?
She didn’t seem like one of her fans.
Wen Xin dialed Shen Yan’s number, and whether he answered or not, she rattled off a flurry of words into the phone, her tone urgent, tears streaming down as years of pent-up grievance poured out.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced behind her, then walked toward the lit areas, heading in the opposite direction from home.
And Wen Xin’s sobbing, choked voice, along with her words implying that the man on the phone was a heartbreaker, drew frequent glances from the idle elderly in the neighborhood.
The figure behind her still hadn’t moved away. Wen Xin took a deep breath, forcefully wedged the cart between the two of them, and suddenly turned around.
She locked eyes with the person behind her.
The “old woman” had her hair tied up, with long bangs covering her eyes. She was hunched over, wearing tattered clothes, trying to use age to conceal her true self—but Wen Xin saw through her at a glance.
After all, she was a beauty blogger, a master in the world of makeup.
“Who are you? Why are you following me?”
The “old woman” bent over, her sinister gaze slowly shifting to Wen Xin’s face. She couldn’t help but marvel inwardly, ‘What a beautiful face. What a shame it won’t exist anymore after today.’
She lowered her voice, “You don’t need to know who I am. All you need to know is that you’ll never have such a pretty face again!”
“Is that so? Are you jealous of me? Is that why you can’t even lift your head?” Wen Xin’s words were clear and forceful, showing no fear whatsoever.
The “old woman” paid no mind to Wen Xin’s provocation. Instead, she was confident of her victory, her voice like a sharp blade, “Besides a pretty face and nice legs, what else do you have?”