Chapter 31

“Are all you Guard Institute folks this mentally tough?”

On the morning of the 27th, the North County Police Station finally located the missing patrol officer, Ou Yang.

The good news was that they had found him at last. The bad news was that he was in the lake. When they fished him out, his body had bloated from the water, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. He looked like some gigantic merman. If not for his clothes, they might not have recognized him at all.

The day before, the Patrol Police Brigade and the Detective Squad had searched all night without success. In the end, the police dogs stopped short at the lake’s edge. One of the detectives slapped his forehead, realizing something was off, and quickly called in the divers. Sure enough, they found him down there.

Though his skin had swollen and turned pale, there were clear signs of trauma on his head, neck, and back. His phone and service pistol were both missing.

Everything about the scene was suspicious. After retrieving the body, the police contacted his family and rushed it to the forensics department at the station for autopsy.

The previous day, Sha Jiali had boasted that he would sleep on the floor at the police station until they found Ou Yang. Instead, he hadn’t even stayed the night before heading home to his luxury mattress.

Ji Tingxi, on the other hand, quietly got things done. She claimed a spare bed in the officers’ dorms and made do for half the night. When she woke the next morning, she got the news firsthand.

Ka Yin had quit smoking, but now, with this turn of events, he held a cigarette pinched between his index and middle fingers. He didn’t light it—just sniffed the scent. In that moment, he understood why Ou Yang had sometimes drunk on the job. Everyone went a little wild at work, didn’t they?

“There are no surveillance cameras by the lake, and no suspicious traces were found. It looks like someone cleaned them up. The Detective Squad is canvassing the area, but witnesses are unlikely. For now, we’re waiting on the autopsy results.”

Ji Tingxi showed no surprise upon hearing the details of his death. She simply lowered her gaze, her eyes fixed on the unlit cigarette butt. Without its glow, the gray tobacco looked dull, mirroring the faint sorrow in her expression.

“What a shame. I never imagined things would turn out like this. When will forensics have the results?”

“It’ll take time for the full dissection—opening the three cavities, plus the effects of the water exposure. We might have the report after lunch.”

The day before, aside from the now-deceased Ou Yang, patrol officers had scoured the area north of the fourth ring road, especially the key checkpoints near the border, searching for Luo Zi. But no leads had come back.

At first, the police had dismissed the kidnapping as minor mischief. Only after a proper investigation did they realize the kidnappers were no amateurs—they had toyed with the cops before vanishing without a trace.

And now one of their own had been hurt. No good news, bad following close behind.

The investigation and search continued that day. The Police Bureau owed Ji Tingxi an explanation, and she owed one to Sha Jiali.

…

Lately, Wen Du’s homecomings had been anything but relaxing. It was as if she were dragging ten pounds of raw iron through the door, with Yue Mu there to help shoulder the burden.

But Luo Zi’s successful border crossing was a rare bright spot. After two months, she had finally smuggled out one Sern person, breaking the deadlock of zero successes under Ji Tingxi’s watch.

Her delight even rubbed off on Yue Mu. But Yue Mu’s happiness lasted only through the night. By morning, it had faded entirely—too scripted, with no lingering echo.

“Sister Mu, everything okay?” Wen Du asked, sensing the shift.

Yue Mu paused for a beat before answering. Her expression was odd—not terrible, but far from relaxed.

“Eat your breakfast first. You’re rushing off to work.”

“Tell me now.”

Yue Mu unlocked her phone and handed it over. “Take a look at this news. What do you make of it?”

…

Since this involved one of their own, the forensics team worked at top speed. In just four hours, they completed the dissection and lab tests, issuing their analysis report.

The time of death for the victim was between 4 and 5 p.m. on April 26th. The cause was suffocation by drowning. There were heavy traces of alcohol in his stomach, indicating he had drunk a lot beforehand.

In addition, his back, neck, and face showed signs of violent assault. Subcutaneous bruising suggested the victim had first fought with the killer—sustaining injuries to his back—before the killer strangled him, held him under the water until he drowned, and dumped him in the lake.

The Detective Squad conducted a blanket search around Hoof Lake but found none of Ou Yang’s personal items: no phone, watch, wallet, or service pistol.

The lake was in a remote spot, hemmed in by trees and brush with no nearby buildings, so there were no witnesses.

The scene investigation and autopsy offered few clues. The detectives turned to Ou Yang’s background.

The Patrol Police Brigade pulled his files and records. In their line of work—checking vehicles, making arrests—they inevitably made enemies. But most were Sern people.

The Task Force suspected revenge. They screened everyone in Hoof Town that day—only sixteen Sern people, all working at the farms. None had prior run-ins with Ou Yang, and all had alibis with witnesses.

Revenge didn’t hold up. But soon, an unexpected break offered a new angle: On the evening of March 27th—no, wait, the report clarified it—a farmhand named Nuo Ya had reported her phone and wallet stolen.

“It’s like this, Officer,” she said. “On the 26th, I was forking hay by the cow shed. My phone and wallet were in the way, so I put them in a cloth bag and hung it on a post nearby.

“It was during visiting hours. Tourists were milling about, some wanting to try feeding the cows or milking them, others offering to help for free. Why not? I handed them the fork.

“But when they left, I noticed the phone and wallet were gone from the bag. I borrowed a coworker’s phone to track it, but it was already off. Luckily, the linked payment card hadn’t been touched—I froze it.

“The phone and wallet alone are worth ten thousand so—I’m heartbroken. That’s why I came to report it. Can you get them back?”

The police took the case seriously—not out of pity for her losses, but because of the timing. It was highly suspicious.

Ou Yang’s time of death was the afternoon of April 26th—the same day as Nuo Ya’s theft, shortly after. And Ou Yang’s valuables had vanished too.

Was there a connection?

By April 28th—two days after Luo Zi’s disappearance—the trail had gone cold. With Professor Sha on the verge of despair, Ji Tingxi returned to the Police Bureau to check for updates.

Ka Yin no longer held a cigarette between his fingers. Things were starting to clarify; he didn’t need the scent to steady his nerves anymore.

“Right now, it looks like a robbery gone wrong. Best guess: During the farm’s open hours, crowds of tourists around, some criminal slipped in.

“Ou Yang was on duty, steaming mad, so he snuck off to Hoof Lake for a drink. He ran into the thug, who saw he was drunk and vulnerable. Tried to rob him of valuables. They fought, and it ended with Ou Yang dead.”

Ji Tingxi listened without comment. “Any solid evidence chain?”

“Not yet. But based on the clues, it’s the only explanation that fits.”

Ou Yang’s family needed answers. So did the patrol team.

It was like a countdown ticking in the Police Bureau lobby. They desperately needed closure—or at least a direction. They couldn’t keep buzzing around like headless flies into the third day.

Ji Tingxi understood their bind and said no more.

It seemed the case would be written off as random robbery, with Ou Yang’s own negligence to blame. If he hadn’t ditched his partner for a solo bender, this disaster might never have happened.

Her focus shifted back to Luo Zi’s disappearance. Today marked the third day since Ou Yang’s death—and Luo Zi’s abduction. Finding her now was about as likely as pigs flying.

If they found Luo Zi, great—she could explain it to Sha Jiali. If not, she could still spin a story, maybe even a more elaborate one.

Ji Tingxi had planned ahead with contingencies in mind. She asked Ka Yin for the case files, preparing to visit the Sern Affairs Management Bureau.

Luo Zi’s vanishing had Sha Jiali stubbornly refusing to let go because it hit his property.

By reaching out to the bureau for compensation—both financial and manpower—she could take a two-pronged approach. No way he’d keep pushing after that.

She packed up the files but hadn’t left when Ka Yin called her back, her face a mix of curiosity and puzzlement.

“Director Ji, are all you Guard Institute folks this mentally tough?”

“What’s up?”

Ji Tingxi turned back. She wasn’t in uniform for once—a chiffon blouse with wool suit pants, a plain off-white shoulder bag, and an air of utter nonchalance. She really did look unflappably calm, like some big-shot reporter touring the station.

Ka Yin’s curiosity and doubt vanished in an instant. It clicked: She’s not tough—she just doesn’t know.

Of course. Chief Ji was swamped, bouncing between the Guard Institute and the station. She’d probably scarfed a single roll for breakfast before rushing here for the latest report. No time to check the news.

“There are some unfavorable rumors online right now. Don’t head to the bureau just yet—lay low for a bit.”

Ka Yin spun his computer around. The morning news filled the screen. At first glance, Ji Tingxi’s usual breezy calm cracked. Shadows gathered on her brow, gloom settling in her eyes. Her face turned exceptionally grim.