Chapter 132

“If you don’t want to collect your young miss’s corpse, then do exactly as I say.”

On December 28th, Ji Tingxi rose early and headed to the Joyful Intent shop on Xia Li Street to pick up some pastries.

Through the window, she saw that the snow had stopped, though fresh drifts had piled up in the middle of the road.

The old snow shoveled to the sides yesterday was nearly merging with the new accumulation in the street, indistinguishable in their shared pure white, marred only by the tracks of passing vehicles.

With New Year’s holidays requiring them to be on duty, they had gotten two days off in compensation.

But Ji Tingxi, embodying selfless dedication, had traded her holidays to her subordinates. She would hold the fort at her post today until the New Year’s celebrations concluded.

The Joyful Intent shop, bustling with holiday orders, had opened early and planned to stay late. When Ji Tingxi arrived, the lights were already on, the warm orange sign glowing amid the snowy white. The sidewalk in front had been cleared, providing ample incentive for customers to stop by.

“Good morning, ma’am!”

“Morning.” Ji Tingxi pushed open the glass door with her hand and walked to the counter. “Is yesterday’s order ready?”

“May I have the last four digits of your number?”

“0731.”

The clerk, Bess, retrieved a cardboard box from the warming cabinet, slipped it into a paper bag, and handed it over. “Miss Ji, your order of fifty almond vanilla cookies.”

“Thanks.” As Ji Tingxi took the bag, she leaned closer to the counter and shot Bess an inquiring look.

Bess nodded in acknowledgment. “Everything’s normal. The plan is proceeding smoothly.”

…

On December 28th at six in the evening, the New Year’s celebration of Bailunting Star Calendar Year 324 kicked off with a thunderous skyrocket.

Centered on Longning Avenue outside the Police Bureau, parade processions wound through several nearby commercial streets.

On this special day, people either gathered for family dinners at home or ventured out to line the streets, watching the parade performances and immersing themselves in a sea of joy.

It was one of the rare occasions that transcended racial divides. Homer People and Sern People alike crowded the avenues, cheering and applauding, begging the performers for candy tosses.

The sidewalks were already abuzz with excitement. Groups of people—adults cradling children—gazed toward the end of Changning Street, previewing the theme decorations for this year’s parade.

Atop a crystal carriage rode two actors in winter formalwear, singing and dancing merrily.

Surrounded by a massive procession, they danced to the rhythmic beat of the music, waving to the crowds. Wherever the cheers swelled, they showered candy, whipping up fresh waves of enthusiasm.

The members of the Flame Performance Club blended seamlessly with the other performers, clad in identical outfits and headdresses, their faces painted the same, their dance steps perfectly matched. Once they merged into the troupe, they were like grains of salt dissolved in a jar of sugar—impossible to distinguish.

Ya Qian had learned the choreography in advance and rehearsed for two nights straight. She could have vied for center stage now, but while dancing, she had to spare some attention to listen through her earpiece, awaiting the signal to act.

Upstairs on Longning Avenue, a tightly shut window concealed a darkened room. Inside, a pair of binoculars tracked the crystal carriage’s movements, just like the security officers posted along the street. It monitored everything around the carriage—even the police—with unwavering vigilance.

“Everything normal. Proceed as planned and follow the procession. Hold your positions—no deviations!”

…

He Lilin had handed over her internship earnings to the driver with one condition: take her and Duo Lin to the designated spot and keep his mouth shut about it.

Duo Lin had chosen a motel on Peachwood Street for the birthday celebration, booking a spacious room.

A roaring fire blazed in the room’s fireplace, and with the windows sealed, warmth enveloped the space.

He Lilin was dressed as exquisitely as ever, if not more so today. Her hair was braided into twists and pinned neatly at the back of her head.

A swan brooch adorned her dress—a prize from a high school competition four years ago. It still gleamed as brightly as her pride.

Upon entering the room, He Lilin’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. She had seen countless birthday setups, but this atmosphere touched her deeply.

Pink streamers draped the room, fresh flowers graced every corner—water jasmine, pansies, and carnations. The fragrance wafted on the heated air, permeating skin and hair, lifting her spirits in a flutter of joy.

“Did you arrange all this yourself?” He Lilin turned to the person beside her.

“Yeah, I’ve helped set up venues before and picked up some tricks. This time, I just went with my own ideas.”

“It’s great. I love it.” He Lilin leaned against the table, fiddling with the colorful helium balloons. “But did you come early? Setting all this up must have taken time.”

Duo Lin lowered her gaze and changed the subject. “Mm. Young Miss, want to see the gift I prepared for you?”

With that, she took He Lilin’s hand and led her to the dining table. At the center sat a lemon cake, candles yet to be lit, flanked by a square gift box.

Surprise lit up He Lilin’s eyes once more.

Her room always overflowed with gifts each year, most of which she tossed out later. To her, they were little more than cat litter—temporary clutter to be cleared away.

But now, facing the gift on the table, she felt an urge to unwrap it herself.

She lifted both hands, then set them down and turned back around, her expression turning serious again. “Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?”

Duo Lin had been staring at her back; the sudden turn caught her off guard, but she quickly mustered a smile. “Yes, of course I do.”

“Then say it now.” He Lilin pivoted to face her squarely.

Dusk had fallen outside, leaving only the chandelier and fireplace to cast uneven light, their shadows overlapping in a tangle.

“I’d… like to wait until you open the gift first,” Duo Lin said, blinking. “Come on, Young Miss—open it.”

He Lilin tilted her head, her lips quirking in mock displeasure. “So mysterious. You better have something nice to say.”

“Don’t worry, Young Miss. You’ll love the gift.”

He Lilin’s quirked lips curved into a full smile.

She rarely showed such delight in front of the help, always maintaining her haughty young miss persona and her sharp-tongued image without fail.

At least, in Duo Lin’s memory, smiles from her were scarce. This sudden one left her dazed, as if candlelight had flickered in her eyes.

“You seem really happy tonight, Young Miss…”

He Lilin didn’t deny it. Still smiling, she turned to untie the ribbon.

She handled it like her first gift ever—fumbling awkwardly, tugging at the silk without success, refusing tools, determined to undo it by hand intact.

The process was slow but meticulous. The ribbon finally pooled on the table, the wrapping paper pristine, until at last she pressed the latches and lifted the lid.

It was a fox—the one she’d once wanted to keep, but Lan Zhijing had firmly vetoed.

After releasing it to the wild, He Lilin had no idea where it went, but she remembered its appearance vividly: slender body, pointed muzzle, and a tail banded in red and black.

Duo Lin had crafted the longed-for creature herself from wool felt and presented it to her.

She remembered that long-forgotten story. She had remembered all along!

He Lilin’s face beamed with joy. She looked up, ready to tell the person behind her how thrilled she was, how this was her favorite birthday gift ever.

But before she could turn, something hard pressed against her waist, followed by a cold, hard voice at her ear. “Don’t move. From now on, do exactly as I say!”

…

On New Year’s eve, Bai Zhuo had most of the Special Action Department on standby in the office, ready for any contingency.

Without comms gear, they couldn’t monitor the outside directly. The most curious ones huddled by the wall-mounted TV, watching the live parade broadcast as if attending in person.

Ma Gefan showed little interest. His nerves were wired for action; even without a specific mission, he imagined a “major threat incoming.”

“How long since your last break?”

“Right after New Year’s.”

“Everything good at home?”

“Fine,” Ma Gefan said, settling down with his coffee. “It’s just me. Parents are out of town.”

Bai Zhuo had been about to ask why no one was with him, but thinking of his own family he couldn’t see, he decided not to pry.

“Fair enough. No ties means no worries about pulling an all-nighter.”

Ma Gefan leaned in. “Honestly… still nerve-wracking. The bigger the event, the more uneasy I get.”

That hit Bai Zhuo’s sore spot. He’d been dozing off; now he jolted awake, eyes widening.

“Damn it, they should’ve canceled this thing. They can’t be blind to the city’s state—looks harmonious on the surface, but it’s a chaotic mess underneath, like a plate of spilled pizza. And they’re hell-bent on celebrating anyway, as if begging for trouble!”

Ma Gefan snapped to attention. “Chief Bai, don’t let that slip around others…”

Bai Zhuo shot him a glance. “Relax, just venting to you guys. Hate seeing you pull overtime on New Year’s!”

Ji Tingxi approached the doorway just in time to catch those words. To spare the awkwardness, she detoured widely before strolling back in casually.

Bai Zhuo wasn’t wrong. Rui’er Terrace knew the city’s true state, as did frontline investigators like them—aware of the massive crisis lurking beneath the calm.

But the people of Bailunting were watching, and so was the International Society. Under global scrutiny, Rui’er Terrace opted for concealment—even a painted peace was peace, a staged prosperity was prosperity.

All the better for them. How else could they sow chaos and execute their plans?

Ji Tingxi rapped on the doorframe. “Just got word from the patrol team: conflict at the south suburb fireworks beach. They’re short-handed. You taking a team, or should I?”

“I’ll go!” Bai Zhuo shot to his feet. “You rest first.”

He gathered a few agents, armed up, and headed out.

…

Du Lengding and her squad concentrated on the Peachwood Street district, where the nighttime events strained security resources. She’d volunteered for patrol duty to ease the burden on the local officers and keep order.

Half an hour into the event, the mood was festive and controlled, with no incidents so far. Her team relaxed, enjoying the crowds from the sidelines, adjusting their belts before moving to the next spot.

Cha Nan, worn out from wandering, ran into Du Lengding at a street corner and seized the chance to fawn. “Want a drink? I’ll grab you one.”

“Sure, mineral water.” Du Lengding pocketed her walkie-talkie. She wasn’t thirsty—she just wanted him gone, free of chatter for a while.

Her team had dispersed to key points per her orders; the channel stayed peacefully quiet. But Du Lengding kept glancing at her phone for messages from her “private contact.”

The chat was silent for now.

No news was good news. It meant Plan A was on track, and her job was simply to do hers.

The music faded into the distance as the parade moved off. Du Lengding stood outside a convenience store, her silhouette stretched long.

Her cheeks gleamed like satin under the melting golden lights, lending her an ethereal beauty. She blinked lazily, her gaze drifting after the departing procession.

…

The room glowed with fireplace warmth, rich hues dancing over the cake, gift box, tablecloth, and balloons, heightening the joyful air.

But the mood shattered like a severed streamer, falling silent to the floor.

“Ha? So this is what you wanted to tell me?”

“Turn your head away. Don’t move!” Duo Lin hissed through clenched teeth, her command sharp and practiced—cold ruthlessness came more naturally to her now, effortless.

“Or what?” He Lilin complied without budging, but her tongue ran free. “Shoot me?”

“I…” Duo Lin fell abruptly silent, cocking her head to listen outside.

“…Where’s the young miss? Which room?” “…The one at the far end?” “You stay here and don’t move. Don’t follow…”

It was Lan Zhijing’s voice!

Duo Lin’s hackles rose; she eyed the door warily.

He Lilin chuckled, her shoulders shaking.

Duo Lin’s face darkened further. “You’ve been on guard against me all along!”

He Lilin told the truth. “I texted her that the school event was delayed and I’d be home late. But she must’ve called my teacher. Tough luck for you!”

Duo Lin gritted her teeth. That meddlesome Lan Zhijing—this couldn’t end at her hands!

Footsteps drew nearer; Duo Lin’s heart pounded as she scrambled for an escape.

“Planning to run? Guess I’m your hostage then—negotiate with her, let you go.” He Lilin’s eyes sharpened. “You’d better have a car ready.”

The door burst open. Lan Zhijing stood there like an avenging specter, fury blazing. Her gaze softened for a split second upon seeing He Lilin, then hardened again—

Duo Lin shifted her pistol upward, pressing it to He Lilin’s head. The venom in her eyes matched Lan Zhijing’s.

After all, Lan Zhijing had endured only half a day; Duo Lin had stewed for half a year. Her rage could incinerate any obstructing demon.

“You listen—if you don’t want to collect your young miss’s corpse, then do exactly as I say!”