Overly Intense [Criminal Investigation] 22p2

Chapter 22 p2: The Log Table

Shen Yiyi took a napkin from her pocket. She had been used to the action for many years, precise and fast.

She supported Qin Luo’s arm with the napkin, then used the napkin to wipe the water from her skin first, then along the leather strap. Halfway through, she had to fold the napkin. She was afraid Qin Luo’s arm would get tired, so she supported her forearm with her hand, as serious as if she were dissecting a body.

“Alright… I’ll do it myself.”

Qin Luo had asked Shen Yiyi to roll up her sleeves to tease her, but she hadn’t expected to be the one to awkwardly pull her hand away in the end.

She moved away, quickly took off her watch, and rolled up her sleeves herself. She took a knife from the knife block and pointed it toward the sofa. “I’m cooking. You can go now.”

With that, she didn’t look at Shen Yiyi and started chopping vegetables on the cutting board.

The host didn’t want to be disturbed, so Shen Yiyi had to sit on the sofa and reply to messages in the case group chat. She scrolled up through the chat history. In the past hour and a half, there were no matters that she had to reply to.

She exited and opened the family group chat again. The messages stopped at the last one her father had @ her.

[@Yi, Shen Yiyi’s dad asked your uncle to bring you some clothes. I saw them at the mall last time and thought they were nice, so I bought them for you. Don’t forget to get them from your uncle when you see him.]

Having learned her lesson from the morning, Shen Yiyi didn’t dare to show her face in the group chat. She could only find Old Shen’s WeChat individually.

[I know. I’ll get them.]

But just as she had sent a reply, Old Shen immediately replied to her.

Old Shen: [Are you working overtime again today?]
Old Shen: [Why didn’t you reply to your uncle in the group chat?]
Old Shen: [Well, if you’re not happy, you don’t have to reply.]
Old Shen: [Have you had dinner? Dad just had a free meal at Uncle Wang’s house [🤭]]

Shen Yiyi heard the sound of the stove being lit and turned to look at Qin Luo. Qin Luo was facing away from her, holding a spatula in one hand and spraying oil into the pan with the other.

She remembered a certain summer vacation when Shen Qinwen would rush home before six to make breakfast for the two of them. She could never sleep soundly at home. When her dad pushed open the door, she would be woken up. But she didn’t want to be discovered by her dad so quickly, so she would only open her eyes and get up from the floor when she heard the range hood turn on. She would look at Qin Luo lying on her bed, sound asleep, and then tiptoe out the door.

Her dad’s back in the kitchen back then was just like this, a back that had merged with the apron.

Shen Yiyi took a breath and typed two lines, [Dad, I met Qin Luo in Shanghai.]

Old Shen: [Qin Luo, is that your good friend from high school?]
Old Shen: [Ah, what a wonderful fate to meet after so many years.]
Old Shen: [So is Qin Luo working in Shanghai?]
Old Shen: [How many years has it been since you’ve seen each other?]

Shen Yiyi glanced at Qin Luo again. She was stir-frying the vegetables in the pan, picking up a spice jar and sprinkling salt into it.

She had never thought she would see such a scene.

It was as if, during the summer of her sixteenth or seventeenth year, she had never thought about what kind of future Qin Luo would have. Would she have long hair or short hair, would she be fat or thin, would she be a writer or a teacher? Her mind was blank, with only that shadow left.

So now, seeing her back as she cooked, her mind had no comparison.

Shen Yiyi leaned back on the sofa, casting her father’s concern aside. She turned her head to face the back. She couldn’t smell the food, but she could smell a certain brief Mid-Autumn Festival when she had snuck out of the house under the pretense of going for a run, and had gone two kilometers to Qin Luo’s house. She had sat on the stone steps, the cold night wind making the moon dusty. A group of people from the neighborhood committee were setting off firecrackers. She had looked up at the huge moon, only feeling that the moon of reunion that people talked about had illuminated her derailed life. The mooncake she had in her pocket was eaten on the way home.

It seemed she could only have memories of the past.

Old Shen: [You old classmates should get together. You can go back to Fengjiang together for the New Year.]
Old Shen: [You were so close in high school. You should take care of each other in Shanghai.]

Shen Yiyi: [We will, Dad.]

Shen Qinwen forwarded many long articles to his daughter on WeChat, about recuperation, about regulating emotions, and finally, two about OCD.

Shen Yiyi breathed heavily, then typed: [I’ll read them. I’m getting off work and going home now. I have to go.]

She threw her phone aside, wanting to get rid of the heavy pressure in her chest. She scanned Qin Luo’s living room with her eyes, wanting to shift the pressure of her father’s concern.

Qin Luo’s living room was sunken. The study was semi-open, facing the sofa. There was a sliding wooden door between the hallway and the hollowed-out wall. Half-pulled, you could see the living room. Fully pulled, you could block off both the living room and the hallway.

Shen Yiyi scanned the room, and her gaze stopped halfway.

Her attention was caught by the log table.

The table was very long.

It was very messy, very disorderly, and it made her scalp tingle.

There were cups of different colors, magazines and books of different sizes, and various miscellaneous items scattered on the table. They were piled together, like distorted Tetris blocks about to burst the screen, on the verge of collapse.

The rug next to it was also covered in books, and there were even books that were not closed, with their legs spread apart.

Shen Yiyi pressed her hands on the leather sofa, suppressing the urge to tidy up.

This feeling was not common. Since she was 10, Shen Qinwen had taken her to the hospital for various behavioral and cognitive therapies. So since she had entered group life, she had been able to restrain herself from correcting anyone other than herself.

Even if she saw someone was very dirty, she could maintain a calm state of mind.

She could tolerate her male colleagues throwing cigarette butts around at the station, and she could tolerate Lu Shimao’s occasionally misplaced shoes in the dorm. But today, she had no patience for Qin Luo’s log table.

It could be said that she was particularly dissatisfied.

She was so anxious she was shaking her leg, her hands gripping her pants. After enduring it for ten seconds, she was unable to fight her inner turmoil.

Shen Yiyi shouted at the back, “Qin Luo, can I help you tidy up the table?”

Qin Luo nodded. “If you want to, go ahead.”

Hearing the host’s approval, Shen Yiyi immediately stood up and walked toward the log table.

Shen Yiyi rushed into the study and bent down to pick up the books on the floor. As she picked them up, she found that there were too many books and it was too tiring to bend over, so she just knelt on the rug.

She first sorted the books of the same size together, then put the oddly shaped ones aside, completely immersed in the process of tidying up.

Qin Luo placed the last piece of seared steak on a plate and turned to put it on the dining table.

She wanted to call someone to eat, but when she looked up, there was no one there.

“Shen Yiyi?”

The range hood was still running, and the space was large. She called out once, but no one answered, so she took off her apron and walked toward the study. But she still didn’t see anyone even after she had entered the living room.

She walked around the load-bearing wall, and just as she turned, she saw Shen Yiyi with her back to her, kneeling on the rug, reading a book intently.

It was a scene from a movie, perhaps a magnificent pull-down shot.

In the frame, on the right was her wall of books, and on the right was the log table. Shen Yiyi was kneeling on the white rug, holding a book. She didn’t even bother to look up when she called her for dinner. She slowly approached on the floor, then cupped her face and kissed her.

A future she had once imagined was being completed in reality.

But unfortunately, Qin Luo could only slowly approach now, the next step becoming a slow pat on the shoulder, and then… she adjusted her glasses…

Damn?!

Where did Shen Yiyi find those letters of hers!!
How long has she been reading them here without a sound!!
How did she end up putting the letters in the book in the first place!!

Shocked, Qin Luo quickly bent down to get them. “It’s time to eat, Shen Yiyi.”

Shen Yiyi squeezed the letters between her legs and blocked the arm trying to grab them with her shoulder. “Did you write these?”

The contents of the letters were written by Qin Luo, stroke by stroke. She remembered.

Qin Luo didn’t think Shen Yiyi was asking to confirm who had written them.
How could someone who worked in identification not recognize her handwriting?

Qin Luo felt that Shen Yiyi was asking something else, as if she were asking if she had cried her eyes out for her after they had separated, if she had been thinking about her for many years, if she still had improper thoughts today, if it was ridiculous that after sixteen years, these letters had not been thrown away, burned, or torn, but had been moved with her through countless homes and cities, with no reason to send them.

Shen Yiyi knelt on the floor and looked up at her, a look that made her want to burn on the spot.

Qin Luo smiled and gave a non-answer. “Let’s go eat.”

“When did you write them?” Shen Yiyi stared at her and asked.

Qin Luo forced a smile and squeezed out two words after a long time, “University.”

“There are clearly some from the past two years.”

Qin Luo looked up, suppressing the stuffiness in her heart. “Are you going to eat or not?”

Shen Yiyi said again, “Since you wrote them to me, can I take them?”

…

Qin Luo felt that Liu Jia was right. Sometimes, adults should be more direct in their communication. Beating around the bush was really annoying.

She grabbed Shen Yiyi’s t-shirt, wanting to pull her up from the floor. But she used too much force, and the shirt was lifted up to her abdomen, revealing a flash of a slender waist.

Seeing this, Qin Luo felt it was inappropriate. She let go of the shirt and grabbed her arm instead, forcefully pulling her up from the floor, and then went to get the letters in Shen Yiyi’s hand.

Shen Yiyi hadn’t finished reading them and didn’t want to give them back just yet.

She held the letters and hid them behind her back, hoping to buy some time. “Let me finish reading them before I give them back to you.”

Qin Luo didn’t respond, pulling her by the arm toward the table, and leaned over to get the letters behind her back.

Shen Yiyi nimbly dodged backward, not bothering to fix her lifted shirt. “Since you wrote them to me, why can’t I read them?”

“I don’t need you to read them anymore.”

“No.”

Qin Luo didn’t understand what kind of hold Shen Yiyi had on her. Her emotions had fluctuated eight hundred times in one day, but not once had she hit the target.

The feeling of being toyed with was like eating a raw chili pepper. It was numb in her mouth, the blood rushing to the back of her neck, and then her chest trembled, unable to suppress the heat.

Qin Luo stood up straight, took a small step forward, and cornered her against the log table. She pressed one hand on the table, blocking her escape route, and held out her other hand, palm open.

“Give them to me.”