After returning from the Summer Lotus Flower Shop, Yue Mu was visibly uneasy. When she inserted the flowers into the vase, she even forgot to add water. By the time she realized her mistake and glanced at the bunch of violets, they already seemed wilted. The blooms weren’t even fully open yet, but signs of decay had already appeared.
Wen Du poured herself a cup of pear soup, watching the last rays of sunlight fade from the table.
“Your pear soup is excellent,” she said. “The weather hasn’t been too humid lately, but my throat always feels parched. I need something to soothe it.”
“Ah Du,” Yue Mu replied, “Ji Tingxi has arrived in Hoof Town with her team. They’re stationed by the lake—it looks like they’re starting a recovery operation.”
The pear soup slid smoothly down Wen Du’s throat, like a refreshing spring washing away the dryness. But she swallowed deeply, and her mouth didn’t feel renewed. It was as if she had something foreign lodged there, impossible to dislodge.
“That’s probably it,” Wen Du said. “Given how meticulous she is, searching the lake bottom was predictable.”
“If it was so predictable, why didn’t we take countermeasures?”
Wen Du stood up and took the small basin from Yue Mu’s hands. She slowly poured water into the vase until it reached halfway up the line, then inserted the flowers. First, she revived them, shaking off their current wilted state.
“Because there’s no countermeasure possible. Ever since the incident, Hoof Town has been under constant police surveillance. Any action we take risks exposure. And if they really recover a body, they’ll conduct a full examination—determining time of death, cause, everything. You can’t just toss in any old corpse to fool them. All the characteristics have to match perfectly.”
Yue Mu fell into thought, almost as if questioning herself. “So this time, we’re in a dead end…?”
She reviewed the plan from the very beginning, trying to pinpoint the “culprit” that had caused everything to unravel. But after combing through it all, she realized they had planned ahead meticulously, leaving no detail overlooked. They had even mapped out an escape route for Luo Zi if she couldn’t leave the country. Yet events had still spiraled into chaos, hurtling toward a complete deadlock.
Where exactly had things gone wrong?
Was it Luo Zi? Sha Jiali? Or the two station members in Hoof Town?
Wen Du’s hand paused in midair as she arranged the flowers. Yue Mu’s words struck her like a bullet to the chest, tightening her brows.
But she had already prepared herself mentally, like donning a bulletproof vest. The bullet came fast, but it didn’t wound her.
“Actually, from the first day Ji Tingxi visited me, I’ve had this vague premonition. She’s like a bloodsucking butterfly, drawn to the scent of her prey. Her senses are sharp—even in remote places, she’ll track down whatever intrigues her.
“She’s caught my scent and has been following it, probing, waiting for the right moment to strike and uncover the truth. Every action we take in secret will keep emitting that ‘sensitive’ odor. Even if we muddle through this time, she’ll pick up the trail again, pursuing it relentlessly until she eliminates the source.”
Yue Mu had spent every day and night with her lately, witnessing her caution firsthand. Of course, she understood what Wen Du meant.
They had been trapped in this deadlock all along—every day, every night. There was no escaping it; their only option was to fight with everything they had to break free.
Wen Du finished arranging the flowers and positioned the vase squarely, facing both herself and Yue Mu. She adjusted them again, ensuring every bloom was fully displayed in its plumpest glory.
The flowers sat perfectly centered in the windowpane. Sunset light filtered through the Eugen Curtain, serene and gentle, outlining the petals’ edges and dusting them with a faint golden shimmer.
Perhaps the flowers’ brilliance sparked it, but Yue Mu suddenly felt a surge of hope. She spoke again.
“Failing to find a body in Hoof Lake isn’t conclusive evidence. They’ll look for other proof. We still have time to respond!”
…
In the 4S store’s waiting area, the space was bright and spotless, with free tea and magazines provided. Du Lengding sat in the middle of the sofa, idly flipping through an automotive magazine.
Though she wore casual clothes, her style favored cool tones: a gray leisure suit paired with a camel-colored turtleneck sweater. With her exquisitely chiseled face, she didn’t look like a typical customer when she settled into the center of the sofa. She looked like a luxury car spokesperson.
Customers like her—cool and statuesque—required a warm, sunny salesperson to match.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the store sent over a receptionist. Yu Teng had neat bangs and a baby face, her cheeks flushed like ripe seasonal apples, fair and rosy. She carried a file that might as well have been a “Happy Manual.” Her smile preceded her as she approached.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m your service advisor, Yu Teng. Your car is being cleaned now, followed by a full detailing. We have a special VIP package on offer right now—would it be convenient to go over it with you?”
Du Lengding’s expression and posture remained unchanged, but she set the magazine aside politely. “Sure, go ahead.”
More customers trickled into the lobby and waiting area. Someone sat on the adjacent sofa. Yu Teng glanced around and smiled. “How about we move to the VIP lounge inside? It’s quieter there.”
The waiting area was already peaceful and comfortable, but the VIP lounge was a step above, complete with recliners for guests who might doze off during servicing.
Du Lengding and the receptionist sat opposite each other at a small round table. After closing the door, Yu Teng set down the file—without even offering to brew coffee—and got straight to business.
“How did it go?”
Du Lengding crossed her hands on the table, straightening her back and neck. The relaxed slump from the sofa vanished, replaced by the rigid poise of a wooden chair.
“I’ve confirmed everything at the funeral home. All the ‘involved’ bodies have been cremated, and I’ve reviewed the related case files. No obvious gaps.”
Transferring a Sern person required the Giel Organization to prepare thoroughly, fabricating a plausible reason for their disappearance—accidental death, kidnapping and robbery, sudden vanishing, and so on. Some scenarios needed lookalike bodies; others required staging entire crimes.
In the Police Bureau, regular officers avoided Sern-related cases. There was no career upside, and it often tangled with the Wei Investigation Institute.
As captain of the Patrol Police Team, Du Lengding focused solely on duty, never sentiment. She followed the iron rule: “see the man alive, see the corpse if dead.” That’s why she took on the unwanted Sern cases—it made it easier to manipulate things from the shadows.
Yu Teng nodded, exhaling in relief. “Good. Even if the Wei Investigation Institute digs deeper, they won’t find more leads.”
“Not necessarily.” Du Lengding’s lashes tilted, her gaze piercing through with precise chill.
“What is it?”
“We’ve transferred hundreds of people so far. Each operation involves countless steps—from staging the disappearance, to transport, to border crossing. Routes, timings, personnel—everything interlinks, but any link could hide a flaw. Our resources are limited; we might not spot them, or we’ve spotted them but can’t fix them retroactively. If they investigate thoroughly, our risks are high.”
Though Du Lengding hadn’t directly handled the transfers, she had managed the investigations and records. Sometimes to bury the truth, sometimes to patch holes.
Take the “Sern” who supposedly fell to his death from a building, yet had fatal strangulation marks on his neck. Suspicious cause.
Du Lengding knew it. Her team members on scene knew it. She could alter the files, but not their memories.
Every plan was airtight on paper, but execution never guaranteed perfection. In a world teeming with wolves, for lambs to escape unscathed was already a miracle—leaving no trace was godlike.
They had pulled off many miracles, but whether this one would hold was precarious.
Du Lengding stayed calmest, double-checking all materials swiftly and confirming no glaring issues. Yet she was most cautious, aware of lurking threats.
Weighing it all, she settled back into composure, like a balanced scale returning to equilibrium.
“We’ve done everything we can. Now it depends on the Guard Institute’s moves.”
“Got it. I’ll text if anything comes up. If the message mentions ‘free accessory gift,’ come by for service—I’ll handle you personally.”
With that, Yu Teng handed over the file. Protocol still needed following.
“Ms. Du, if you could just sign here. This package is the best value, perfect for busy professionals like you who drive a lot.”
Du Lengding had no particular passion for car maintenance, but she frequented the shop to liaise with the station—washing, polishing, fragrances, accessories…
Her unassuming little Baorui ended up more polished than her model-like face.
This monthly package was no different. She signed without a glance, indifferent to whether her car emerged overly flashy.
Yu Teng watched her sign, noting the serene brows and casual poise. It was as if this were just a sales pitch—no mission, no peril, no hidden anxiety gnawing at the heart.
“We’ve turned danger into safety so many times before. I’m sure we’ll pull through this one too!”
…
Wen Du’s mood had been complicated during her shifts lately—slightly lighter than visiting a grave, but only because the Wei Investigation Institute building lacked actual tombstones.
Beyond the suppressed worry, the building’s atmosphere fueled her unease.
Operatives from the Special Action Department had been darting between offices more frequently this week. In the Intelligence Division where Wen Du worked, they’d hosted three visits in two days: twice for past translation files, once to verify high-frequency terms in recent suspicious intel.
It wasn’t odd for the Special Action Department to review translations—key details could aid arrests. But other motives were possible, especially now, especially after Ji Tingxi’s personal visit. Wen Du had sensed nothing but peril from her.
“Finished already? Chief Ji’s efficiency is impressive!”
“Your materials are so detailed—they’re easy to grasp in one read, which speeds things up.”
Ji Tingxi wore her gray uniform, which should have lent her a stern air. But when speaking with Wen Du, her eyes always crinkled with amusement. Even official business felt like intimate chit-chat between friends; sometimes the delight sparked before she even spoke.
“You’re always welcome here anytime, Chief Ji. With your praise, our efficiency will only climb higher.” Wen Du had grown adept at false words over time—they flowed effortlessly, almost convincing her own heart.
“Thanks for the warm invite, Director Wen, but I wouldn’t dare visit too often.” Ji Tingxi wagged her index finger in the air, like punctuating with a gentle sigh.
“Is it the flowers on my desk? Too vibrant?”
“No, they’re perfectly bloomed, as lovely as you—irresistible to admire. But our Special Action Department lacks capacity. The more we rely on your help, the bigger the trouble we’re facing. How could I impose so much?”
Wen Du regarded her silently for a moment, inwardly marveling at Chief Ji’s silver tongue. Facing major issues, she still couldn’t resist compliments—to explain while charming the beauty.
“So it sounds like you’re in a bind?”
“Indeed. Or rather, the bind found us. We’re striking first to uncover certain matters.”
Wen Du’s lips curved faintly in curiosity, but her breath sank into the pit of her stomach, bottomless.
“Have you figured it out yet?”
“Hard to say if we’ve cracked it, but your materials certainly helped.”
One of Wen Du’s hands rested on the swivel chair’s armrest. Her fingertips tapped silently. To Wen Du, it evoked footsteps in the dark—soundless, yet inexorably closing in.
Helped how? In what way?
Most translation files included originals in Sern Language alongside Bailunting translations. Wen Du was the building’s top Sern expert. If even she had missed flaws, could Ji Tingxi spot them?
“Found some treasure trove of clues, Chief Ji? Share with me?”
Silence fell. Ji Tingxi paused, then leaned in close.
Wen Du reflexively turned her head as the face neared, exposing her right ear—precisely what the other wanted.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
…
That noon in the Guard Institute cafeteria was business as usual—people coming and going. Wen Du arrived early but never spotted Ji Tingxi.
Her inner unease fermented over lunch, thicker than the steak on her plate, weighing on her mind.
By the time she rose to return to her office, the anxiety had deepened.
Glimpsed details and faint sounds her ears caught only intensified it.
Logistics Department staff hurried floor to floor. Te Rui from General Affairs carried keys and a teapot toward the conference room. Ruo Xing from Special Action had just eaten, yet dashed back to the cafeteria for a thermos box before heading to the chief’s office.
The afternoon brought orderly quiet to the building. Sated, everyone resumed morning tasks. But whispers and murmurs hid in offices, hinting at an urgent matter about to shatter the calm.
Wen Du’s instincts extended like tendrils into every corner, hunting clues, piecing intel, seeking answers.
Finally, settling at her desk, she received confirmation.
A internal message blinked on her computer—terse and direct.
【All recipients: Assemble in Conference Room 1 at 1:30 PM. Level II Strictness. No tardiness.】
