Chapter 29: You’ll Never Be a Bother to Me

Faced with Wen Du’s credentials, even the most steadfast young officer, unyielding in the face of authority, had no choice but to sit down at the relevant computer and contact the surveillance management team. His bowl of noodles had been soaking since noon, with boiling water poured over it twice now, but he still hadn’t managed a bite. He set it aside to reheat later.

He didn’t pay it much mind until he pulled up the footage—and that’s when things got interesting. In the video, a young woman of medium build carried a canvas tote bag as she walked to the corner of the long street. Hearing a noise, she stepped aside to let the vehicle behind her pass. But the driver showed no such courtesy. The car scraped along the curb, and an arm shot out from inside, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her in.

Once she was inside, the car sped off, quickly vanishing from the camera’s view. The officer scanned footage from several nearby blocks but found no trace of the vehicle.

A check of the license plate turned up nothing but blanks. The real vehicle matching that plate had been parked in the Century Spring Hope lot the whole time. This fake had snatched the woman and vanished without a trace.

The young officer called for backup. Three patrol police team officers joined him, and together they reviewed the footage multiple times.

In the end, they confirmed they had no clear image of the suspect’s face, no leads on the vehicle’s whereabouts, and no witnesses in the surrounding footage.

The case had hit a dead end.

Fortunately, they had one lead: the missing person was a Sern worker.

With the trail gone cold, the police shifted tactics. They turned to working on the reporting party’s mindset—if they couldn’t catch the perpetrator, at least they could resolve things for the victim.

“Mr. Sha,” one officer said, “based on the surveillance, tracking her down will be difficult and time-consuming. If you’re in a hurry, we can contact the Affairs Management Bureau and assign you another Sern hired worker. We’ll make sure she’s trained on basic safety first.”

The one they had now was probably gone for good. Searching for her would take a ton of effort—and it just wasn’t worth it.

Sha Jiali wasn’t satisfied with that response. He acted like a customer fed up with shoddy after-sales service, on the verge of filing a formal complaint.

“Assign me another one? Is this about getting a replacement? My hired worker is missing—my property has been stolen. And this is how you treat a citizen whose rights have been violated?”

Sha Jiali unleashed the booming voice he used for lecturing in tiered classrooms, the kind that carried to the back row. His words pierced everyone’s ears, rattling their skulls.

Wen Du stood nearby, her emotions as complicated as the officers’.

She had assumed, given Sha Jiali’s personality and his preference for young, attractive hired workers, that the bureau had plenty more where that came from. He could just pick another one. Even if he knew Luo Zi had been “kidnapped,” she figured he wouldn’t dwell on it.

But she hadn’t expected him to be so stubborn. He was pressuring the police, determined not to let this go until they found her.

This was bad. Things could go south.

The atmosphere in the room was tense and heated. Wen Du stepped in to smooth things over, gently patting Sha Jiali’s shoulder. “Mr. Sha, I’m sure the police will do everything they can to find Luo Zi. As you can see, though, the trail has gone cold. We need to give them time for a deeper investigation.”

Then she turned to the officers. “Thank you for your help. She’s very important to us. Please find some new leads as soon as possible.”

After Sha Jiali’s outburst and Wen Du’s polite urging, the officers—who had been ready to write this off—perked up. They invited Sha Jiali to sit and began taking his statement in earnest.

The technical team expanded their search radius and ran advanced filters. They finally spotted the suspect vehicle on Witch Hazel Road at 12:50 p.m., captured again at a traffic light. Ahead on that road lay only the Old Car Processing Plant—the one solid lead on the vehicle’s path so far.

The police dispatched several officers to head to the plant. Sha Jiali and Wen Du were ushered to a waiting room, served good tea and water, and asked to wait.

With the investigation underway, Sha Jiali dropped his earlier demeanor and warmed up to Wen Du again. “Miss Wen, you’ve been with us all this time. Thank you so much!”

Wen Du held a disposable paper cup, her attitude even more accommodating than the officers’. “I don’t have classes this afternoon. Losing someone is a big deal, and I’m familiar with how the police bureau works. I hope I can help.”

The help she had in mind was keeping an eye on Sha Jiali to stop him from stirring up more trouble and derailing the real plan. The police were investigating, but they hadn’t touched the core of it yet. Wen Du knew the organization had planned this well: the vehicle wasn’t completely invisible, just shadowy enough to lure the police on a wild goose chase without revealing the true path.

Her job was to stall until Luo Zi safely crossed the border. Then the “kidnapper’s car” would vanish too.

The waiting room had no clock on the wall, but in the deceptively calm space, time surged onward—slipping across the coffee table, passing overhead, bouncing away with every heartbeat.

Amid the flow, their emotions clashed: Sha Jiali’s frustration and Wen Du’s quiet relief. The longer it dragged on, the steadier her pulse grew, marking time like a metronome, ushering the “bridge crosser” to safety.

Time wove a net like knitting needles, cradling Wen Du’s thoughts. But a noise from outside shattered her focus, sending her mind into disarray as it sank.

The afternoon sun, past its peak but still glaring, shone on the polished black leather boots like a coat of oil.

Ji Tingxi strode through the sunlight at the entrance in her heeled boots, fresh from another assignment. She hadn’t even removed her leather gloves. Leaning on the front desk, she glanced at the fast-food noodle container shoved in the corner.

“You’ve had a tough one, too busy to hit the cafeteria?”

The front desk officer just smiled, deploying his high EQ once more. “I’ve eaten. This is dessert noodles—Earl Grey tea and tiramisu flavor.”

Ji Tingxi returned the smile, her lips straightening as she got down to business. “A Sern hired worker went missing. Any leads yet?”

Just a minute before she arrived, the officer had gotten word from the field team. The suspect vehicle had indeed entered the Old Car Processing Plant on Witch Hazel Road. But the owner couldn’t produce a vehicle scrappage certificate, so processing was denied. He drove off.

The police asked the staff: What about the others in the car?

The employee said he’d inspected the vehicle while the owner spoke to the supervisor and seen no one else.

Surveillance backed him up. From start to finish, only the owner was visible—no one in the passenger seat or back. The trunk was a mystery.

So two possibilities: either the victim had been moved to the trunk, or she’d been dumped earlier and switched vehicles.

Spotting Ji Tingxi, Sha Jiali lit up like she’d come to save the day. Ignoring all other officers, he rushed straight to her. “Officer Ji, you must know the details by now. You’ve met this Sern hired worker too. She cost me a fortune, and training her took a ton of effort. Her disappearance is a huge loss for me. I hope you’ll take this seriously!”

These days, Sha Jiali was the Wei Investigation Institute’s “dream client,” with everyone eager to butter him up. Even if he lost his keys, they’d jump on it—let alone a live person.

Ji Tingxi knew this well. She’d tried digging into him before, but he was a tough nut to crack. Now that he had a problem, wasn’t this her chance?

—Solve it right, and maybe he’d come running to her side on his own.

“Rest assured, we’ll do everything to track her down. We can’t be careless when your property is at stake.”

The same words from her mouth carried the weight of an official seal—ironclad assurance.

To Sha Jiali, it was a done deal. To Wen Du, it was a nail through the heart, piercing flesh and drawing blood.

She hadn’t contacted anyone outside; it must have been the police calling the Special Action Department. But on the surface, this was a Sern kidnapping, not an escape. If the police needed to loop in anyone, it should be the Affairs Management Bureau—not the Wei Investigation Institute.

The institute handled major threats to Bailunting, deploying resources only where it counted. A minor Sern abduction wouldn’t rate.

So only one explanation: Ji Tingxi had tipped off the bureau in advance. If Sha Jiali reported a case, contact the Special Action Department immediately—they needed eyes on it.

Cooperate with regular police? Every citizen’s duty. With the Wei Investigation Institute? Not so much—but officers gritted their teeth and did it anyway.

Spotting Wen Du behind Sha Jiali, Ji Tingxi flashed a bright smile, as if bringing the sunlight from the entryway inside. “Miss Wen’s here too. Perfect.”

Sha Jiali chimed in. “Yes, Miss Wen’s been with us the whole time. So thoughtful.”

Wen Du, bag already slung over her shoulder, seized the moment. “I’ve just been keeping you company and chatting. I haven’t helped much. Now that Miss Ji’s here, things are in good hands. You two probably have a lot to discuss. I won’t disturb you—I’ll head back to work.”

She needed to alert Xia Lie fast. Things had changed—the Wei Investigation Institute was involved!

Ji Tingxi acted like she hadn’t seen Wen Du in ages and hated to see her go. “How could Miss Wen ever disturb me? With me, you’ll never be a bother, no matter when. Stay and help analyze. Your perspective might sharpen my thinking.”

Wen Du smiled without replying.

A division chief from the Special Action Department needed a layperson for case analysis?

“Sure. Whatever Director Ji needs, just say the word.”

She’d been content to babysit Sha Jiali before, no sign of bailing. Now, with Ji Tingxi here, she suddenly wanted out. Once was fine, but insisting looked suspicious. Ji Tingxi was sharp; she couldn’t afford to arouse doubt right now.

The briefing was set up in the bureau’s meeting room. As the most basic police outpost, the room was small—five people filled it, and any note-takers would have to perch on folding stools in the back.

With a high-ranking officer present, the patrol police team captain gave the report himself. Ji Tingxi reviewed the leads, pondered briefly, and reached a conclusion. “From what we have, this was a premeditated kidnapping. The perpetrator shows solid anti-detection awareness, constantly throwing off our trail.”

The captain nodded. “Yes. He knows the city’s cameras inside out—blind spots, uncovered areas, all of it. From Witch Hazel Road to the old plant, the fragments suggest he took the Fourth Ring Outer Loop, overlapping with suburbs. Lots of rural dirt roads, minimal coverage.”

“Fourth Ring Outer Loop, Witch Hazel Road…” Ji Tingxi murmured. “Isn’t there a windmill attraction there? A stop for Kambai Tour Buses?”

“Right—Sangli Windmill. Nearby’s Sangli Farm, where tourists milk cows and feed sheep.”

“Check recent tour bus schedules.”

The recorder pulled it up fast. “One today: arrived Sangli Farm at 2 p.m., departs at 6 p.m. for Wangduo Square, then heads back.”

Ji Tingxi had her suspicions from the Keqi incident at Swan Palace. She’d wanted to inspect the tour bus system post-launch but got denied. Now this disappearance overlapped with the tour route.

Was there some unspoken connection?

Ji Tingxi kept her expression neutral, issuing orders without explanation. “Contact your superiors at the Police Bureau. I’ll speak with them.”

…

In the squad car, Ou Yang cracked open a bottle of brandy but didn’t drink—just sniffed it under his nose. From outside, it looked like he was toting a deluxe snuffbox the size of a liquor bottle.

“Really? Your booze craving’s that bad? Why not hook up an IV and go straight to the vein?”

“Bad luck! I finally get leave, crack a bottle at home legit-like, and boom—called in for duty. A Sern worker goes missing, big whoop. Is all this fuss worth it?”

Nearing the destination, Lai Yang slowed. “Depends on the owner. Even if it was your boss’s big yellow dog, you’d hunt it down.”

They arrived. Lai Yang braked gently, no lurch. But Ou Yang overreacted, shoving the bottle to his lips for a hearty swig.

The burn hit hard—refreshing!

“Drinking on duty? You trying to lose your badge?”

“This is still my leave time,” Ou Yang capped the bottle and pocketed it. “Just a sip to perk up. Don’t worry about it.”

Sangli Farm hugged the main highway for easy access, its scenery pristine—rolling green grass as far as the eye could see. No wind today; the windmills stood still beside the flat-roofed diner, while tourists milled about.

Ou Yang and Lai Yang headed for the windmills. The bus sat between a dirt road and the cow pens, painted bright and flashy—eye-catching even against the windmills.

In leather jackets, jeans, and cowboy hats, they needed only lasso tricks to pass for ranch hands, blending seamlessly into the tourist crowd.

With a shared glance, they began patrolling the diner and farm, eyes peeled for the car or signs of the victim.

Everything seemed normal. Locals worked, Kangman tourists played at farm life, snapping photos in clusters.

At 5:50 p.m., boarding time. Lai Yang cornered the tour guide, murmured instructions. She got the hint and posted him by the door for a clear view of passengers.

The tourists queued roughly in front of the bus. Ou Yang finished checking the luggage hold, circled to the front, and spotted a figure from afar—wide-brimmed sun hat, jacket zipped to the chin. Without a close look, only her nose was visible.

She headed for the line but froze at the sight of Lai Yang up front. Then she turned and retreated, as if dodging him on purpose.

Ou Yang had Luo Zi’s photo and details beforehand. Recognizing her silhouette, he tensed and followed.

The lakeside had plenty of small trees—enough cover.

“Bus is about to leave. You not heading back?” Ou Yang quickened his pace, closing in while dodging holly bushes to glimpse her face.

The girl slowed, hunching her neck. She seemed scared. “I… I dropped my phone. Looking for it.”

“No problem. I’ll help.”

His tone was gentle as he drew nearer, crouching as if to search.

She relaxed a fraction, stopped retreating, and bent to look too.

Ou Yang rustled in the grass for show, then pulled out his own phone. “Found it? This one?”

She twisted to peer from under her brim without lifting her head. In that instant, Ou Yang lunged—one hand clamping her arm, the other yanking off the hat. A panicked face stared back, matching the wanted photo perfectly.

It was her!