The end of Volume One came at the end of the month.
That afternoon, I was in the office organizing the filing materials for the Hongyun case when my phone rang.
It was an unfamiliar number.
I picked it up: “Hello.”
“Lihan?”
A woman’s voice—very familiar, yet I couldn’t quite place it right away.
“Who is this?”
“I am Wen Manhua.”
My hand paused on the desk.
Wen Manhua, chairwoman of the Manhua Group, a prominent figure in the city’s business world. And also Wen Ruzhou’s mother.
“Hello, Director Wen,” I kept my voice as steady as possible. “May I ask what this is regarding?”
“Ruzhou is with you, right?”
“Yes, she works here with us.”
“Then please do me a favor and inform her that the company has an anniversary celebration tonight, and she needs to come back for it,” Wen Manhua’s tone was polite, yet carried an unquestionable authority. “I asked her out for a meal, but she keeps making excuses.”
I glanced out the window; Wen Ruzhou was standing in the corridor on her phone, her back somewhat rigid.
“Alright, I’ll pass it along to her.”
“Then I’ll trouble you,” Wen Manhua paused. “Your line of work in economic crime investigation carries high risks; please take care of her.”
“We will do our best.”
Hanging up the phone, I stood up and walked to the window.
Wen Ruzhou was still on the phone, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Her shoulders were tense and her voice was kept low, as if suppressing some emotion.
After about ten minutes, she hung up and stood frozen in the corridor.
Her thumb unconsciously scratched back and forth against her phone case, over and over, as if trying to scrape through it.
Looking at her back, a strange feeling welled up in my heart.
Not pity, not curiosity, but a flavor I couldn’t quite name.
I turned and walked toward the doorway.
Stepping into the corridor, she still hadn’t moved.
I stopped, looking at her: “If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”
Her back stiffened slightly, then she slowly turned around.
The rims of her eyes were red, but she quickly blinked a few times, pushing the redness down.
“Captain Shen,” her voice sounded a bit raspy. “Why are you here?”
“Passing by.”
“Oh.”
I shifted my gaze elsewhere: “Your mother called me just now.”
She froze for a moment, then lowered her head: “What did she say to you?”
“Told you to go back tonight for the company’s anniversary celebration.”
Her thumb stopped on the phone case.
“Captain Shen, do you think I should go?”
I didn’t answer.
“I… I don’t want to go,” her voice was very faint. “But if I don’t, she will keep calling.”
“So?”
“So… I don’t know what to do.”
Silence stretched across the corridor.
Distantly, the voices of colleagues chatting drifted over; someone pushed open a door, someone closed a window. These sounds were amplified in the empty corridor, sounding exceptionally distinct.
Looking at her, I recalled what I was like many years ago.
At the exact same age, equally lost on what to do.
Yet I didn’t want her to walk the same path I did.
“Wen Ruzhou,” I said.
She raised her head.
“Those in economic investigation shouldn’t let personal relationships affect their judgment,” leaving behind that sentence, I turned to walk away.
“Captain Shen!”
She called out to stop me.
I halted my steps without turning back.
“You’re meddling a bit too much,” her voice came from behind, carrying a trace of a smile. “This is my personal affair.”
“Your affairs are also detachment affairs,” I didn’t look back. “If you get distracted by personal issues, you’ll make mistakes on the case. I don’t allow my partner to make mistakes.”
Silence fell behind me for a few seconds.
Then her voice came through: “Understood, Captain Shen.”
I continued walking forward, my pace slightly faster than before.
The window at the end of the corridor was open, and the wind blew in, carrying a chill.
When I walked out, I didn’t look back.
Yet in my heart, I knew clearly that certain things had already changed.
When work ended that evening, Wen Ruzhou didn’t head straight back to the dormitory.
She waited for me downstairs at the office building for a long time.
When I stepped out, she was leaning against a streetlight, holding a thermal flask in her hand.
“Captain Shen,” she walked over. “You haven’t eaten yet, right?”
I glanced at the thermal flask: “What’s this?”
“I didn’t go to my mom’s company anniversary,” she smiled faintly. “But I cooked a dish for her and had a driver deliver it. This is a portion I kept for myself—giving it to you.”
I didn’t take it.
“Captain Shen?” Her gaze held a touch of confusion.
“What dish did you cook?”
“Braised pork.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“How did you know I liked this?”
“You had two bowls during our dinner last time,” she smiled faintly. “I remembered.”
Saying nothing, I took the thermal flask.
“Then I’ll head off first,” she turned to leave.
“Wen Ruzhou.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked back.
I looked at her and said: “The dish you made—I’ll taste it.”
Her eyes lit up: “Is it delicious?”
“I’ll know after I try it.”
She smiled: “I’ll bring you something new tomorrow.”
“No need, don’t keep making these.”
“I like doing it,” she paused. “Captain Shen, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
She walked away, leaving me standing alone under the streetlight.
I opened the thermal flask; inside were pieces of braised pork, rich and dark in color, smelling incredibly aromatic.
Picking up a piece, I put it in my mouth.
Delicious.
Better than the cafeteria’s, and better than the restaurant’s too.
I didn’t know when she had learned to make this dish.
Yet I knew that starting from today, I would remember this flavor.
Returning to my room, I sat at my desk and placed the thermal flask to the side.
The archive page for the Hongyun case was still open on the computer screen, but my mind was no longer on it.
I recalled many things.
Recalled when Wen Ruzhou first came to report for duty—that girl who was five minutes late yet arrived smiling.
Recalled her flipping through files in the archive room, noting down every single detail in her notebook.
Recalled her charging into Shunda Trading alone and getting cornered in the corridor, stubborn to a point that made one’s heart ache.
Recalled her pouring hot tea for me on the high-speed train, asking nothing, saying nothing.
Recalled her getting hurt while pursuing the suspect in the alley, her eyes red, yet still trying to comfort me.
Recalled her talking on the phone with her mother in the corridor, her thumb scratching the phone case as if not knowing where to go.
So many events, so many details, flashing through my mind like a slideshow.
I picked up the thermal flask and ate another piece of meat.
Then I opened the drawer and pulled out a notebook.
I had used this notebook for a long time, starting from my very first day in economic crime investigation. Every page was a case, and behind every case were people and stories unknown to me.
On a fresh page, I wrote down her name.
Wen Ruzhou.
Then beneath it, I wrote a line:
New partner. Transferred from the Audit Office. Skilled in tracking fund chains.
Finishing this sentence, I paused my pen.
What else could I write?
Thinking for a moment, I wrote another line:
Makes very delicious braised pork.
Putting down the pen, I stowed the notebook away.
The streetlights outside the window were still lit, shining onto the ground in a stark white hue.
I remembered my father’s letter.
Your dad is innocent.
Those words—he wrote them for five years.
What about Wen Ruzhou?
What would she write?
I didn’t know.
Yet I knew that no matter what she wrote, I wouldn’t let her keep writing it alone.
Because starting today, she was no longer alone.
And neither was I.
The next morning, I bumped into Wen Ruzhou again at the cafeteria.
She walked over carrying a tray, a smile on her face: “Morning, Captain Shen.”
“Morning.”
“Was the braised pork good?”
“Not bad.”
“That’s good then,” she smiled. “I’ll make you something else next time.”
“Don’t keep making these.”
“I like doing it,” she sat down opposite me. “Captain Shen, are you disliking my cooking?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then that means you like it?”
I looked up at her.
Her eyes were very bright, her smile deep.
“Eat your food,” I said.
She let out a soft laugh and lowered her head to eat.
We finished breakfast quietly, then walked together toward the office.
On the way, Old Zhao came approaching from the opposite direction. Seeing the two of us, he said with a smile: “My, Captain Shen and Little Wen coming to work together again?”
“On the way.” Ignoring him, I continued walking forward.
Wen Ruzhou didn’t speak beside me, but the corners of her lips curled with a faint smile.
Entering the office, I heard her whisper softly: “Being on the way is great; we can walk together every day from now on.”
I stopped in my tracks.
She stopped as well, looking at me.
“Say that again?”
Her face flushed slightly, then she smiled and ran off: “Captain Shen, I’m off to organize the files!”
I stood in place, watching her back.
The sunlight in the corridor was warm, illuminating her body and softening her profile.
An indescribable feeling settled in my heart.
Not joy, not moved emotion, but something far more complex.
That was the flavor of being cared about.
Turning to walk outward, I didn’t know what I was thinking.
Yet I knew that starting today, on this road, I would no longer be alone.
Volume One had ended.
Yet I knew very well this was merely the beginning.
The Hongyun case was closed, but Zhou Jianguo’s line was still being pursued. The connection between the Dingsheng case and the Hongyun case hadn’t been cleared up. Lin Meihua’s side yielded no breakthroughs yet. Then there was Father’s affair, and that money trail pointing toward Hong Kong.
Wen Ruzhou’s mother still stood behind her, her family issues unresolved. My family issues were unresolved as well. Both of us carried our own scars, standing at our respective crossroads.
Yet at the very least, we were no longer two isolated individuals.
We were a pair.
Not lovers, but partners.
The kind of partners who cover for each other in cases and look out for each other in life.
I knew that such a relationship was far more precious than that of lovers.
Because it required no vows, no promises—only trust.
And trust was the most solid anchor between us.
Volume One End.
Yet the story has only just begun.