Chapter 17

Zhou Hui tapped on the shoes of the person whose face was completely covered at the bottom of the screen. She turned her head and said, “Look at his shoes. At two fifty, Yan Mingchang appeared in the surveillance footage wearing the exact same pair.”

“It’s true,” Han Wei said as he rewound and watched it again. “That repairman didn’t wear a mask when he arrived either. When did he leave?”

Zhou Hui fast-forwarded the footage to a dozen minutes after Yan Mingchang exited through the east gate. The man emerged from the stairwell and headed toward another exit in the opposite direction.

“You few stay here and track down this repairman. Han Wei, let’s go! Meet up with Sun Ye and the others to pull the surveillance from the roads outside the company.” With that, she strode toward the door.

Han Wei hurried after her. “Yan Mingchang’s car is still at the company. He probably hailed a taxi right after leaving, or maybe someone was waiting for him outside.”

Zhou Hui nodded in agreement. She shoved her hands into her pockets and kept her head down as she said, “I’m leaning toward the second option. Yan Mingchang was in such a hurry to bolt that he didn’t even go home. He must have run into some emergency that forced his hand. He’s a cautious guy—under those circumstances, he’s not likely to take a taxi. For one thing, it’s not safe, and for another, it’s inconvenient.”

Han Wei furrowed his brow. “What kind of emergency would make Yan Mingchang bolt like that, right under our noses? We’ve been staking out for days and haven’t found even a gram of drugs. What was he in such a rush to run from?”

“You asking me?” Zhou Hui shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask Yan Mingchang himself!”

Han Wei was checking messages on his phone when he heard Zhou Hui’s words. He looked up and said, “Yeah, catching Yan Mingchang might reveal a lot of what we want to know… Sun Ye and the others have brought the surveillance footage back to the bureau.”

In the City Bureau office.

The team stared at the monitors until nine that evening. Yan Mingchang stepped out of the company and climbed straight into a black van. From there, it deliberately avoided main roads with cameras, sticking to back alleys. It vanished from surveillance multiple times, only to reappear at the next intersection. They chased the trail through several such loops, leaving the police dizzy and bleary-eyed.

Zhou Hui walked in carrying takeout bags. She overheard Sun Ye griping to Yang Pingfan at the computer. “Flower, your eyesight must’ve gotten worse again! How many pairs of glasses have you gone through this year?”

Yang Pingfan was deep in concentration, tracking the suspect. Without looking up, he quickly did the math and replied, “The third pair.”

Sun Ye turned his indiscriminate teasing on Han Wei next, drifting over to his desk and leaning on the edge. “Deputy Han, those clothes in your locker have been marinating for months. When are you gonna take some leave and freshen up the air in our Police Bureau!”

Han Wei smacked him on the head. “I think you’re not after leave—you’re asking for a beating.”

Sun Ye clutched his head with an “Ah!” and jumped back. “Deputy Han, I was just giving you a friendly heads-up. And… I really do want some leave.”

Zhou Hui set the takeout bags on the table, opening them as she said, “Little Sun, forget about leave. Dreams like that aren’t good for your growth.” Before Sun Ye could wail in protest, she stuffed some food in his mouth. “But we can dream about better meals. Everyone, tough it out tonight.”

Sun Ye hugged a bowl of pork rib soup, gnawing on a chicken leg as he mumbled, “Not tough at all, Captain Zhou. Deep down, I don’t mind it one bit.”

“Heh!” Han Wei took a bite of rice and pointed his chopsticks at him. “That came straight from the heart, huh? I’ll be the first to vouch for it. If it didn’t, I’d be shocked.”

Zhou Hui leaned against the desk, poking at her boxed meal. She raised her hand and said, “I believe you too. No need to say it out loud—you’re making me feel bad about piling on the tasks.”

Sun Ye: “…Captain Zhou…”

Yang Pingfan chimed in perfectly on cue. “Work’s been piling up lately. Little Sun must be thrilled.”

“…” Sun Ye eyed Yang Pingfan suspiciously, convinced the “Police Bureau’s Flower” was shading him. But seeing him head down, intently devouring his ribs without a blush or a flinch, Sun Ye deflated instantly. He couldn’t help marveling—what kind of creature was Yang Pingfan? He’d proven time and again through bitter experience that you couldn’t afford to cross women, since men could never outargue them in a fight. But ten women couldn’t hold a candle to one Yang Pingfan.

Yang Pingfan seemed to sense Sun Ye’s intense stare. He looked up to find Sun Ye giving him a thumbs-up and replied, “Thanks.”

Zhou Hui picked up a chicken leg and placed it in Yang Pingfan’s bowl. “Tsk tsk, our Little Yang isn’t just hardworking—he cares about his colleagues too. Deserves a reward. Extra chicken leg for you.”

Han Wei glanced at Sun Ye’s longing expression and said kindly, “Little Sun, see that? Learn from Little Yang. Next time it’ll be you. Keep it up!”

Sun Ye retracted his longing gaze and silently gnawed on his chicken leg. Look at that! What harmonious office relationships, what united and friendly colleagues. Sun Ye suddenly felt the “care” from those around him, so moved he nearly burst into tears.

After the group fooled around for a bit, Zhou Hui turned to Han Wei. “How’s the license plate check coming along?”

“Still working on it. We called them, but the traffic police team is off duty already. We’ll probably get the results tomorrow morning.”

“Fine. Checking the surveillance footage first works just as well.” Zhou Hui finished her meal and tossed the lunchbox into the trash bag.

“What are you thinking about?” Han Wei noticed she seemed to have more on her mind.

Zhou Hui shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s focus on the case for now.”

She had been thinking about Yu Bai. Their line of investigation into Yan Mingchang had originated from a tip Yu Bai provided—Yan’s contact with Wu Guojiang. Had Yu Bai already uncovered issues with Yan? What were the odds she’d discovered Yan’s involvement in the drug trade? Was Yan’s disappearance connected to her somehow?

But right now, Zhou Hui’s primary concern was this: if Yan made contact with the people behind Wu Guojiang, would Yu Bai be in danger?

Zhou Hui scooped up her phone from the desk, intending to head downstairs and call Yu Bai to check if she was safe.

“Captain Zhou, you… going somewhere?” Han Wei asked, puzzled. In the past, Zhou Hui would just grab her phone and dial right there—often calling her dad. Zhou Boyan’s roars from the other end carried like she had it on speakerphone. They’d teased her about it plenty of times, but she’d never once snuck off to make a call.

Zhou Hui froze for a moment. “…Just stepping out for some fresh air.”

She wasn’t sure what she was hiding—or why. Was it because Yu Bai’s identity as an informant couldn’t be revealed to the rest of the police?

The others clearly thought otherwise. The moment Zhou Hui stepped out of the office, the room erupted behind her. Everyone wore looks of sudden realization.

“Captain Zhou’s got a boyfriend? Has to be.”

“Deputy Han, spill the latest gossip.”

Han Wei looked utterly baffled and threw up his hands. “No clue. I’ve been run off my feet lately, still haven’t won over my Little Princess, so where would I find time to gossip about Captain Zhou? ‘If it walks like a duck…’ I buy that. Why don’t we put our case-cracking skills to use and investigate her?”

“Better not, Deputy Han. You’ve already lost this month’s bonus—got the guts to dig into Captain Zhou’s business too?”

Han Wei remembered how Zhou Hui had abruptly frozen his bonus a couple days back when she showed up at the Police Bureau. He’d blamed himself for running his mouth to Zhou Boyan and spilling everything.

Poor guy. All his hard work over the past month, and now he couldn’t even afford a gift for his Little Princess.

“You’ve got a point. I’ll play it straight and earn my bonus fair and square. You all can handle the big stuff.”

The group groaned in unison. “Deputy Han, we’re broke too—barely scraping by. We need that bonus just as bad.”

And so, the office gossip about whether Zhou Hui was dating someone fizzled out amid the collective cries of poverty from the City Bureau officers.

Zhou Hui stood under a streetlamp at the City Bureau entrance and dialed Yu Bai’s number. Moths gathered in the glow of the light, and the chirp of crickets drifted from the nearby bushes.

It took Yu Bai over twenty seconds to pick up. “Hello, Officer Zhou.”

Hearing Yu Bai’s voice eased Zhou Hui’s tension instinctively. She waved away a small bug fluttering past her face. “Yan Mingchang’s on the run. Be careful lately.”

There was a clear pause on the other end, a few seconds of silence. Then Yu Bai’s voice came through, a touch subdued. “…Got it, Officer Zhou. I’ll be careful.”

Zhou Hui thought for a moment before adding, “If you spot anyone tailing you or sense any other danger, call this number. Anytime.”

She could hear Yu Bai’s soft breathing on the line. After a few more seconds of consideration, Yu Bai replied, “Okay.”

In her tone, Zhou Hui could sense a smile. Yu Bai was always like this—when it came to matters involving herself, she acted utterly nonchalant, as if everything were up to fate.

Zhou Hui had no idea what truly mattered to her. She treated her business, her reputation, even her life and death with such indifference. Nothing seemed to hold real weight in her heart, nothing left a lasting mark.

To Zhou Hui, Yu Bai was like a deep pool of water. Standing at the edge, you saw nothing. You had to dive in, swim to the bottom, to discover what lay beneath. But it was so unfathomably deep, so unpredictable—that very unknown bred fear, keeping people from venturing in rashly.

At least, Zhou Hui didn’t yet have the courage to probe its depths, whether based on what she knew of Yu Bai herself or the rumors she’d heard from others. Yu Bai was like a poppy blooming in the fields of Myanmar—beautiful and seductive, yet inherently poisonous, the very root of all narcotics. A person like that inspired fear.

Zhou Hui lowered her phone and let out an inaudible sigh under the lamplight before turning back toward the office.

In a private room of a certain nightclub in Pingling City.

Yan Mingchang’s expression was tense. Even after the two hostess girls beside him plied him with two glasses of liquor using a mix of soft enticements and hard pressure, they failed to spark any interest in him. His eyes remained glued to the television screen, where City Bureau Chief Zhang Yunan was speaking. Every word from the chief sent Yan Mingchang’s nerves into a quiver.

“Our city’s fugitive suspect, Yan Mingchang, is wanted in connection with drug trafficking. If you spot this individual, please report it to the authorities immediately!”

Just half an hour earlier, the City Bureau had issued a wanted notice, and his photo was plastered everywhere—across the internet and on every TV channel. In the chill of the heavily air-conditioned room, Yan Mingchang was breaking out in a cold sweat, beads as large as soybeans rolling down his forehead.

“Mr. Yan, no need to be so tense! It’s only a police manhunt—nothing to lose sleep over.” The voice of a man drifted from behind Yan Mingchang.

The man, who appeared to be in his early thirties or perhaps a bit older, lounged on the room’s leather sofa. His eyes slanted upward at the corners, his nose was sharply bridged, and his skin held an unhealthy pallor. Tall and lean, he had the sort of striking features that would make him stand out instantly in any crowd. In short, he cut a distinctive figure.

Two girls sat beside him as well. He had been holding one in each arm, teasing one with a few playful words before planting a quick kiss on the other’s lips. He made sure to spread his attention evenly, neglecting neither.

As he spoke those words, he slipped his right hand from around one woman’s waist, stroked his chin, and curled his lips into an enigmatic half-smile.

Yan Mingchang’s body shook violently at the man’s words, as if he were in the throes of Parkinson’s disease. He whipped around, seized the man by the collar, and after his lips trembled for what felt like ages, finally managed a complete sentence. “Only a police manhunt? What the hell did you promise me back then, huh?”

The man showed no anger. He gently pressed down on Yan Mingchang’s hands and said, “Mr. Yan, calm down. We can talk this out—just don’t get worked up yet!” At the same time, he waved off the two bodyguards stationed at the door, who had been poised to charge in.

Yan Mingchang only gripped tighter with both hands, grinding his teeth as he snarled, “How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? I can’t even go home now. My wife and kids are still abroad—they have no idea what’s happened to me. It’s all because of you. You screwed me over back then, or else… or else I never would’ve ended up on this path. I never would’ve…”