[I’m not exactly dying for him to come]
Chen Shiyou’s body was quickly gathered by Li Ming and taken back to the morgue. Since his parents were unwilling to return immediately, his remains would likely have to stay at the station for some time.
Because Gu Yingzhou and Zeng Yixiang had attended the scene together, the case was defaulted as a joint operation between the two units. Upon leaving Room 413, the two divided the labor. Unit B would finish collecting evidence inside the apartment before returning to the station to investigate Chen Shiyou’s social circles and his parents’ background. Since the rest of Unit 1 was still on holiday, Gu Yingzhou and Lu Ting’an would head to Gangming University to interview Chen Shiyou’s professors and classmates.
Once their tasks were set, Gu Yingzhou and Lu Ting’an left quickly, leaving behind Zeng Yixiang, Zhang He, and the CSI technician collecting evidence in the bathroom.
Closing the door and opening a window for air, Zhang He stood on the balcony watching Lu Ting’an’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but marvel, “Officer Zeng, this guy is really something. Jiangzhou Rongli is such a massive complex, yet he actually managed to find the body.”
“It wasn’t just Jiangzhou Rongli. Ah Hai said they searched three different neighborhoods. Talk about dumb luck.”
Despite his words, Zeng Yixiang couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration in his heart. In the process of discovering this body, if a single element—timing, location, or the right people—had been missing, it wouldn’t have worked. First, there was Lu Ting’an’s bold guess based on a cat and a bloody jacket; then there was Gu Yingzhou, usually so composed, actually playing along with this “nonsense” and running between three neighborhoods for hours. Finally, it took a bit of luck for Room 413 to fall right under Lu Ting’an’s nose without being overlooked.
Inhaling a few gulps of fresh air, the smell of death in his nose finally faded slightly. Zeng Yixiang patted Zhang He on the shoulder and urged, “Get back to evidence collection. It’s been two or three years since we last worked a case with Unit 1, right? We absolutely cannot lose to them this time!”
Zhang He grunted in response, but as he turned to leave, Zeng Yixiang hooked him back by the neck with a strange expression. “Tell me… this Lu Ting’an, is he really Lu Chenhu’s son? The notorious Young Master Lu?”
Zhang He was 193cm tall, while Zeng Yixiang was only 179cm; being hooked by the neck, he was forced to hunch over significantly. He let out a helpless sigh. “Six months ago, when he got into that brawl at the Hongye Club, didn’t you happen to be passing by and handcuff him yourself, Sir? You couldn’t have forgotten that face so quickly.”
Zeng Yixiang fell silent and shook his head.
It wasn’t that he’d forgotten. Anyone who had seen Lu Ting’an would find it hard to forget him; his face could easily outshine most movie stars.
But can a person’s personality really change that fast? Zeng Yixiang could still remember exactly what Lu Ting’an looked like six months ago—
At the time, Lu Ting’an was celebrating a birthday at the Hongye Club with several of his “fair-weather friends.” One of them had ordered two “hostesses,” one of whom happened to be the favorite of a small gang leader—she usually didn’t take clients. Something happened in the middle of the night, and as the group was leaving, the gang leader and his lackeys blocked their path. A violent conflict erupted at the club entrance.
Zeng Yixiang happened to be night-jogging past that road and saw Lu Ting’an grab a wine bottle from a friend’s hand and smash it directly over the leader’s head. The leader was knocked unconscious on the spot. Shards of glass sprayed everywhere, grazing Lu Ting’an’s cheek; a moment later, blood began to seep out, sliding down his face.
Lu Ting’an acted as if he couldn’t feel the pain. He thrust the jagged neck of the broken bottle deep into the chest of a lackey who had rushed forward. Glass pierced flesh; the scene was bloody and filled with screams.
Fortunately, his friends had stepped in to pull him back, or the incident would have been handled as a homicide rather than just a brawl. The case wasn’t handled by Zeng Yixiang in the end; all he knew was that Lu Chenhu paid some damages, and the station released Lu Ting’an in less than half a day.
Six months had passed, and Zeng Yixiang had forgotten many details, but every time he heard the name “Lu Ting’an,” he felt a chill. He had seen many people get into fights; usually, they were blinded by rage in the heat of the moment. Only Lu Ting’an—even as a glass bottle punctured a man’s chest—remained utterly indifferent. In the dark of the night, his eyes held a malice that wouldn’t dissipate. Seeing blood didn’t scare him; he actually smirked, as if he placed no value on human life at all.
A person like that was a natural-born “bad seed,” the seeds of evil already rooted in his soul, just waiting for the day to burst from their cage.
But the Lu Ting’an he saw today was cool-headed, composed, and clever. Where was the cruelty and dark edge from before?
‘Six months… to change someone so completely…’
“Boss, what are you thinking about?” Zhang He’s neck was getting sore, and he tilted his head to look at Zeng Yixiang’s face.
Zeng Yixiang snapped out of it, releasing him with feigned nonchalance. “Lu Ting’an is just a logistics staffer for Unit 1, right? Our Unit B has always only had five people. What if I were to extend an olive branch to him—”
Zhang He was shocked. “Boss, you’re not thinking of recruiting him to our unit, are you?!”
Zeng Yixiang answered with his own question, “Would he come?”
After thinking for a moment, Zhang He shook his head honestly. “We pretty much started a feud with him this morning. Besides, Boss, he called you a dog.”
Zeng Yixiang: “…”
His face turned green for a moment before he kicked his subordinate’s backside. “You talk too much crap. Get to the investigation!” He paused, then snorted. “I was just speaking casually. I’m not exactly dying for him to come to our unit anyway. That guy looks like he’s born to be a ‘living ancestor’—who could afford to serve him?”
Zhang He gritted his teeth, silently cursing his boss for being a poser.
The whole station had been gossiping for two days that the Young Master Lu had only joined the force for Officer Gu. Zeng Yixiang should realize that no one in Unit B had a “face” that could compete with Officer Gu’s. From the inside out, top to bottom, they had nothing that could attract Lu Ting’an.
However, he didn’t dare say that to Zeng Yixiang, fearing another kick.
Lu Jin followed Lu Ting’an into the elevator.
The door to Room 413 had been open for quite a while, and even with the hallway windows open, that stench hadn’t dissipated quickly. Even now, he felt as if an unspeakable odor was clinging to his very skin.
The middle-aged man in his forties trailed behind Lu Ting’an, his voice sounding muffled and thick. “Young Master, do you smell that? It’s like I can still smell it…”
A smell is just the diffusion of small molecules; it’s possible for them to linger on the mucous membranes of the nostrils for a bit, but smelling it “constantly” was a bit of an exaggeration.
Lu Ting’an glanced back and offered a flat consolation. “It’s just psychological. Relax.”
Wu Qima was very quiet in his arms, resting its head listlessly on his forearm. Lu Jin looked down at its pitch-black head, feeling even more spooked. “This cat was with the body for so long… do you think when it was starving crazy, it might have…”
Somewhere in the past, he’d heard a rumor about an old lady who raised a cat and treated it to the best of everything. When she died, the cat had nothing to eat, so it gnawed off her entire face. Ever since then, he felt cats were animals that could never truly be tamed.
Wu Qima had been covered in blood when they found it—who knew if it had eaten its own master to survive?
The thought of the connection between the cat in his arms and that corpse made Lu Jin’s hands go weak, as if he were holding a hot potato. His voice grew unsteady. “Anyway, you already saved it from those kids, and it looks fine now. Why don’t we just release it into the wild?”
Gu Yingzhou immediately caught onto what he was dreading. He offered a subtle clarification: “The body was fully intact.”
Lu Ting’an added, “The blood on its fur was from when it tried to wake Chen Shiyou up. Cats are sentient; they aren’t as cold-blooded as you think. Besides, ‘releasing’ it now isn’t letting it go—it’s sending it to its death. It has zero wilderness survival skills.”
“We’ll keep it for now. Once it recovers, I’ll find it a good owner.”
Lu Jin gritted his teeth. “If Mr. Lu knew about its past, he’d never agree to this! Young Master, have you considered that maybe it really is bad luck and that’s what killed its master?”
Lu Ting’an frowned, adopting a thoughtful expression.
Gu Yingzhou observed him silently. Seeing him hesitate, Gu was just about to offer to keep the cat at his own place when he heard Lu Ting’an speak:
“You’re right. Then let’s keep it at your house first. Once something happens to you, I’ll throw it away.”
Lu Jin: “?!”
“T-That… that’s not appropriate, is it…”
Lu Ting’an looked at him with a gentle gaze. “So, you raise it, or I raise it?”
Lu Jin gave a forced smile. “…You raise it.”
Gu Yingzhou caught the look of utter exasperation on Lu Ting’an’s face. Without even realizing it, a trace of a smile flickered across his own lips.
…
Gangming University was the second-ranked institution in the city. Stepping through the gates, one could see groups of students walking together—friends joking around, couples in love—exuding the radiance of youth and a future of infinite possibilities.
It was hard to imagine that Chen Shiyou, currently lying quietly in a body bag, had been one of them just days ago.
Chen Shiyou’s counselor was a young man in his thirties with side-swept bangs and silver-rimmed glasses, looking scholarly yet somewhat rigid.
At the mention of Chen Shiyou, he instinctively frowned. Clearly, he wasn’t particularly fond of this student.
Gu Yingzhou spoke up immediately. “You didn’t like him very much?”
The counselor didn’t expect him to be so blunt. He blinked, then shook his head. “They’re all my students; it’s not a matter of liking or disliking. But among so many students, he did leave a deeper impression on me.”
“Why?”
“Because he was a lot of work. Within just one month of starting his freshman year, he came to see me three times, always wanting to change dorms.”
Recalling the past, the counselor looked somewhat helpless. “Chen Shiyou was too much of a loner. He absolutely could not handle communal living. If his roommates touched his things, made noise, or had physical contact with him, he’d react with intense hostility. The first time he wanted a change was because he couldn’t stand a roommate’s foot odor—said it smelled like ‘stinking beans pickled for three years.’ The second time, he said the boy across from him often came back late and affected his sleep. The third time was even more extreme; he said he couldn’t accept his roommates wanting to put their arms around his shoulders. You’ve lived in dorms before; that kind of thing is common among guys. He was just too sensitive.”
Lu Ting’an asked, “Did you let him switch?”
The counselor gave a speechless laugh. “No. His problem wasn’t something a room change could fix. Living together requires compromise. Where was I going to find him a roommate who didn’t have smelly feet, didn’t stay up late, AND was guaranteed to maintain physical distance?”
“But I heard his parents were both intellectuals and very wealthy. After a little over a month, he moved out. Where did he move to again?” The counselor habitually smoothed his bangs and gave an apologetic smile. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”
Gu Yingzhou’s voice was calm. “Jiangzhou Rongli.”
The counselor had a moment of realization. “Right, right! At the time, some people joked that at such a young age, he was already living in a place others couldn’t afford in a lifetime. By the way, why are you suddenly asking about him? Did he get into trouble?”
Gu Yingzhou looked at him with dark, heavy eyes and dropped a bombshell. “He’s dead.”
The counselor froze, taking two seconds to process what that meant.
He was visibly terrified, jumping up from his seat so abruptly he accidentally knocked over his thermos. “What?!”
“How did he die? Where? Was it an accident or suicide?!”
Gu Yingzhou and Lu Ting’an had come to ask questions, but ended up being bombarded with them instead.
Gu Yingzhou knit his brows impatiently. “Am I questioning you, or are you questioning us? Chen Shiyou hasn’t been to class for many days. Did you never suspect something happened to him?”
The counselor clutched his head in a minor breakdown, messing up his styled bangs. “Because he was such a maverick! He’s been skipping classes since freshman year. Besides, he’s a junior now; there aren’t that many classes to begin with. How could he be dead? Is he really dead?”
Seeing that he truly knew nothing, Gu Yingzhou refrained from asking more for the moment, giving him some time to adjust his emotions.
However, the current situation wasn’t looking good. Chen Shiyou was a loner, which meant it would be very difficult to get information from those around him. The more he kept his secrets buried in his heart, the harder it would be for the police to see the truth through the fog.