Chapter 37

“Lu Shimiao, you’re really something!”

There weren’t many streetlamps in the old alleys of Shanghai. The dim light made it hard to see anything clearly.

Lu Shimiao, dressed in a black T-shirt, was shoved hard by Xue Tong. A bit of color marked the corner of her mouth. She licked her lip with the tip of her tongue—a sharp, electric sting. It was her own skin split open. As long as Xue Tong wasn’t hurt, that was fine.

They stood frozen for a few seconds. In the darkness, the only sound was Xue Tong rummaging through her bag.

“Stay here by yourself.”

A bottle of water was thrown at Lu Shimiao. Xue Tong turned and walked out of the alley. The mineral water rolled from Lu Shimiao’s arms to the ground.

The darkness made it impossible for Lu Shimiao to see Xue Tong’s expression. All she could catch was her tone. But she knew Xue Tong’s anger inside and out. This low, cold tone meant she was truly pissed. Pushing closer now would only end in mutual damage. Besides, Shanghai’s public safety was much better than Hong Kong’s. A 33-year-old woman wouldn’t get lost.

She needed time to cool off.

Especially herself.

Once the person was gone, Lu Shimiao wanted to crouch down and pick up the water bottle, but she couldn’t find the right leverage. Her back, after a full day of work, was like a rusty gear slipping its track, creaking and groaning. Frowning, she pressed a hand to her waist, stood up quickly, and walked to the street to find a public bench.

Shanghai’s July summer was much hotter than Hong Kong’s. The reason wasn’t geography—it was Hong Kong’s unique cultural temperature.

Cultural scholars call this temperature the “Central Temperature.” In Hong Kong’s professional world, white-collar workers follow a strict dress code. The environment forces them into suits and leather shoes. So, to prevent office workers from fainting in thirty-degree-plus heat, the air conditioning in Central’s skyscrapers is perpetually kept below 16 degrees.

The colder a place in Hong Kong, the more upscale it is. Like the air conditioning at Equator Property—one blast on Lu Shimiao’s forehead could give her a high fever. That’s why Xue Tong, holding the rank of Superintendent, wore long-sleeved shirts year-round.

Black, white, charcoal gray. Always desaturated colors, long sleeves, usually unbuttoned to the second collar button.

Underneath, she might occasionally wear a fitted tank top or a short-sleeve shirt. That was why, on countless occasions, she could take off her jacket or police uniform and drape it over Lu Shimiao.

Lu Shimiao thought about it now. Xue Tong’s habit of wearing two layers in summer started because of her.

But in Shanghai, a polished urbanite in the financial world like Qiu Wen would still clock in daily to Lu Shimiao’s room and nag, “Blasting the AC will give you headaches! It’ll paralyze your face! Ai-yo, are you trying to max out the electricity bill to the third pricing tier?!”

So, Lu Shimiao sometimes felt that temperature truly represented a city.

Compared to Chongqing, Shanghai was cold.

Compared to Hong Kong, Shanghai was hot.

Between the alternating heat and cold, besides differences in cultural diet and unique living habits, even people’s personalities seemed to change with the temperature.

This kind of temperature also existed between cities.

Lu Shimiao understood it as:

—A sense of boundaries.

Hong Kong was too cold.

In other words, for the 23-year-old Lu Shimiao just starting out, Hong Kong’s sense of boundaries was simply too heavy. Unfriendly classmates, chaotic top-floor apartments, a distant Instructor, a subway where you couldn’t drink water, police checking IDs, countless fine regulations, and pockets jingling with heavy coins… and the only one who reached out her arms to embrace her: Xue Tong.

How could she not take the bait?

She practically jumped onto the hook herself, wholeheartedly, recklessly, grinning cheekily, with tears streaming and reddened eyes.

She liked Xue Tong. She liked her in her fantasies, then sobered up the moment her plane left the harbor.

Of course, she still liked Xue Tong now.

So much that every single day over those four years, she thought, doubted, and questioned. She even started to feel like it was all just a careless, absurd dream under the filter of Hong Kong.

More than liking, understanding was what mattered, wasn’t it?

It was just that she didn’t understand Xue Tong, and she could never find an opportunity to do so.

She didn’t know Xue Tong’s family background. That’s why, after moving into Huashan Road yesterday, she was shocked. Oh, Xue Tong was even richer than she’d imagined. She didn’t know Xue Tong’s friends either. Apart from male colleagues like An Lin, Ah Tang, and Xun Wei, she’d only met her younger brother during Chinese New Year. She still didn’t know when Xue Tong had taken off that ring.

Lu Shimiao only knew that Xue Tong hated Chinese-style breakfasts. That she liked touching her ear when they kissed. That she was highly sensitive in bed, taking just minutes to climax. She knew she liked wearing a single hair tie on her wrist. She knew she liked scrolling through Instagram. She knew there was a small mole near her sacrum and a tattoo on her hip.

She knew that she was a person who came and went freely, just like her departure four years ago, and this current meeting in Shanghai.

She knew so, so many secrets about Xue Tong.

The only thing she didn’t know was why Xue Tong had approached her in the first place.

Officer Lu didn’t even dare to say out loud why Xue Tong might “like” her.

Lu Shimiao had always believed that liking someone came with physiological desire. For example, her uncontrollable urge to touch Xue Tong’s body, to smell her scent, to be infatuated with her expressions.

But Xue Tong seemed to have no desire for her whatsoever. Especially in bed—she never touched her.

Thinking about that actually made her quite angry.

Lu Shimiao unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water, then poured some on her arm to cool down.

“Team Leader Lu, have you bought the food yet? Time to regroup.”

The walkie-talkie in her pocket crackled. Only then did Lu Shimiao remember she was on duty. She quickly replied, “Let’s eat back at the station. The nearby shops are closed.”

She tossed the water bottle into the trash and hurried back to the fire scene. The main force was already withdrawing in waves. Colleagues from the Technical Investigation Unit were pushing evidence crates towards the police cars, everyone soaked.

“Ten minutes. Assemble in the Serious Crime office,” said Li Siting, the Head of the Serious Crime Unit, Team 1, City Criminal Police. He and Lu Shimiao had teamed up many times and knew each other well. He patted her on the shoulder. “We’re gonna have to rely on you for this case.”

“Don’t, Team Leader.” Lu Shimiao immediately backpedaled. “For this, you need to rely on Lin Shu from Fire Investigation, or the Video Surveillance guys. I just saw the scene—it’s a total mess. Relying on our side won’t yield results anytime soon.”

“The higher-ups gave us three days.” Li Siting held up three fingers, staring at her. “Three days to submit the Case Clearance Report. Heh.”

“….” Lu Shimiao suddenly felt that a reunion with Xue Tong within seven days wasn’t entirely hopeless. It was just highly unlikely.

“The Golden Shield Project hasn’t responded?”

The Golden Shield Project was the national public security network’s new high-efficiency, rapid-transmission system, a dedicated intelligence database for criminal investigation. It linked Police Mobile Terminals, the Skynet surveillance system, the population registry, and the fingerprint system—a kind of shared identification information bank.

“Video Surveillance and Skynet are dead in the water,” Li Siting patted Officer Lu on the shoulder. “So that’s why we need you, my dear expert.”

Lu Shimiao shrugged his hand off her shoulder, pulled open the police car door, and climbed in alone. “Hurry up and get back. I’m hungry.”

They drove back to the station.

It was already 9 PM.

A group of people sat in the conference room eating boxed meals. Lu Shimiao glanced at her phone messages. Xue Tong hadn’t sent anything. She’d vanished from social media.

Feeling a bit helpless, she sent a text: “Did you get home safe?”

Xue Tong didn’t respond at all.

Eating the station’s twenty-yuan standard dinner, Lu Shimiao sat in her seat, bored, looking across at Lin Shu. Lin Shu had taken off her firefighting gear, a red mark pressed across her face from the goggles. The skin on the bridge of her high nose was even rubbed raw. She was taking bite after bite of her boxed meal.

It wasn’t that Lin Shu was some stunning beauty making her stare. It was that only two women sat in the entire office. Female criminal police officers were rare. Female firefighters were rarer still. Lu Shimiao wanted to know what kind of woman walked through seas of fire.

Lin Shu’s ear-length hair was impeccably neat. She had fine features. Her dark blue fire department uniform was crisp and efficient. She wasn’t much older than herself—probably around Xue Tong’s age. She ate very cleanly and even ate a lot of carbs.

…

Lu Shimiao abruptly averted her gaze. Unconsciously profiling strangers was impolite. She needed to rein it in.

“Everyone, listen while you eat.”

Li Siting pressed both hands on the table. Beside him was a stack of white papers—case filing reports, registration forms, scene investigation records—a chaotic mess. Unlike in novels or TV shows, no matter how swift and decisive a criminal police officer was, half their time was still spent on paperwork.

Right now, the forensic report wasn’t out yet. The crime scene investigation report wasn’t out yet. The video surveillance results weren’t out yet. All they had was a pile of disorganized witness statements and the timeline of the police call. Everyone could only use experience to make preliminary inferences and decide the direction of the investigation.

Li Siting pointed to the interview team. “Zhu Yi, brief us on your side’s situation.”

“Currently, all eyewitness statements are consistent….”

Lu Shimiao’s phone vibrated.

She glanced down. It was a WeChat message from Xue Tong. She put down her chopsticks and discreetly placed her phone under the table.

Xue Tong replied: “Mm.”

Just an “Mm”?

Lu Shimiao frowned. Hands hidden under the table, she typed quickly. “Then eat something.”

The other party replied instantly: “Mm.”

…

Another “Mm.”

Locking the screen, Lu Shimiao shoved the phone into her pocket, gritted her back teeth, and picked up her chopsticks to continue eating.

“Next, Lu Shimiao from the Crime Scene Investigation Unit. Your side.”

Lu Shimiao snapped back to attention and put down her chopsticks.

“Currently, the subjectively observed time of arson is basically consistent with the eyewitness accounts from Brother Zhu’s side. The fire started around 8:45 AM, spreading by 9:00 AM, which was exactly when staff were arriving for work.

“The suspect committed premeditated arson.

“This is mainly shown in the reconnaissance. Captain Lin’s detailed fire investigation concluded that the suspect scouted the location, placed combustible explosive devices, avoided surveillance cameras, and had a specific escape route mapped out at the crime scene. Power was cut in three locations: the manager’s office, the second-floor elevator, and the main power line on the second floor.

“The suspect likely possesses some relevant professional knowledge and a relatively high education level. We’ll need the lab to provide conclusive results on the combustibles before we can determine specifics. But one thing supports this: he used a remote-controlled detonator, igniting four points on the second floor simultaneously.

“We can almost rule out partnership crime because we found remnants of a remote control core at the scene that weren’t fully burned.

“But the motive and causal relationships currently lack a specific direction.

“That’s all I can say for now. Everything else depends on lab results.”