Chapter 21: ◎Do You Know Where My Home Is?◎

At dinnertime, since Yu Bai truly couldn’t stomach any food, Zhou Hui finally gave up on “taking care” of her. She offered to head home for some spare clothes and also stop by Yu Bai’s place to pick up the daily necessities she would need.

“What clothes and daily items do you want? I’ll make a list and grab them for you,” Zhou Hui said, sitting on the bed across from her.

Yu Bai hesitated for a moment but ultimately said nothing.

Caring for a patient in the hospital was no easy task, and it felt downright awkward to impose it on someone she’d known only briefly. Yu Bai didn’t want to owe anyone any favors, nor did she wish to deepen her bond with Zhou Hui. Her initial plan had been to send the bodyguards out to buy a few changes of clothes nearby and just make do.

That was how she’d handled previous hospital stays.

Zhou Hui watched as Yu Bai sat there looking glum and silent, and suddenly the air grew thick with awkwardness. After a few seconds, Yu Bai spoke in a deeply subdued voice. “Just some toiletries and a few simple outfits.” She wouldn’t be staying much longer anyway, she figured.

With that thought, Yu Bai pointed to the bag on the bedside table. Zhou Hui’s eyes landed on it, and she reached over to hand it to her. Using her uninjured right hand, Yu Bai rummaged inside, pulled out her keys, and passed them to Zhou Hui with a quiet “thanks.” Zhou Hui smiled back at her but didn’t ask where she lived.

“You know where my home is?” Zhou Hui was already shutting her laptop and rising to leave when Yu Bai called out from behind, eyeing her with suspicion.

“I know,” Zhou Hui replied simply, offering no explanation.

Yu Bai’s gaze remained skeptical as she wondered how Zhou Hui could possibly know her address. But then it hit her—what kind of person was Zhou Hui, after all? She was a cop, a detective no less. Detectives investigated people for a living. Pinpointing her home address would be child’s play for someone like her.

Thus, Yu Bai added, “My bedroom’s the second room on the right after turning the corner on the second floor.”

Zhou Hui nodded. Before stepping out, she turned back with one last instruction. “I’ve arranged specific doctors and nurses for you. The ones handling meds and IVs are the same few you’ve already met. Don’t let anyone else in, okay?”

“…Oh.” Yu Bai watched Zhou Hui deliver the warning just like a parent cautioning their child against opening the door to strangers. An indescribable feeling washed over her, and she gave a mechanical reply before closing her eyes.

Zhou Hui sighed at the perfunctory response but said nothing more. She gave Yu Bai one last glance, pushed open the door, and left. With her eyes still shut, Yu Bai heard the sharp click of the lock. She opened them and stared toward the door, then slowly let her gaze drift back to the bouquet of flowers Zhou Hui had brought, resting on the bedside table. Tucked among the blooms was a small card that read “Get well soon.”

Yu Bai plucked out the card and brought it to her nose for a sniff. It carried the sweet fragrance of the lilies, mingled somehow with Zhou Hui’s own crisp, clean scent. It smelled wonderful.

Lying there on her hospital bed, she gazed at the card with a puzzled expression. “Zhou Hui, what’s really driving you to stay here and look after me like this? Is it the 725 Case? Or something else?” A gentle smile softened her eyes. “Whatever it is, thank you.”

With those words, Yu Bai squinted toward the window, where the sunset cast a golden, toasty glow right across her bed. A profound sense of peace, unlike any she’d ever known, settled deep in her heart.

Zhou Hui stepped out of the inpatient building, the sunset’s lingering rays wrapping her completely. Pingling City wasn’t getting any rain today. The weather was warm and gentle, with a soft breeze that carried no stifling heat—perfect for lifting the spirits.

Down below the inpatient ward, patients and their families milled about, taking leisurely strolls to breathe in the fresh air. It was ideal weather for it.

Pingling City’s rainy season could be so oppressive, with endless downpours and brooding gray skies that dragged on the soul. But not today. What a glorious day it was! The fine weather had drawn out more walkers, and even the birds were out in force, chattering merrily from the branches. Far from annoying, their songs were downright melodic.

Clutching the keys, Zhou Hui headed to the hospital’s underground garage. She planned to swing by Yu Bai’s place first for her things. Casual clothes were essential, of course, along with fresh underwear. She’d need to bring along two basins—one for face-washing, one for feet—plus towels, socks, toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash. Zhou Hui ran through the list in her head, considering anything else she might have overlooked. She wanted to get there soon; if something was missing, there’d still be time to pick it up.

Zhou Hui drove the car out of the garage and headed toward the villa district. Though Yu Bai had always struck her as a woman shrouded in secrets, leaving a somewhat unfavorable impression, she had to admit that such a woman possessed an irresistible allure. That very attraction drove Zhou Hui to learn more about her, so she had discreetly inquired about Yu Bai from others. She learned that after returning to the country, Yu Bai had moved back into the home she once shared with her husband, Ji Shen.

To understand the history between Yu Bai and Ji Shen, one had to go back to the time when Yu Bai went to America to study.

Rumor had it that the two met while studying there, though accounts differed on whether it was in high school or university. What was certain, however, was that they had crossed paths on campus.

Both hailed from Pingling City, sent abroad by their families to pursue their education far from home. Homesickness weighed heavily on them, making them cherish fellow countrymen and townsfolk all the more. Like old acquaintances meeting in a foreign land, they grew familiar with one another. Before long, their shared interests brought them together romantically, and they agreed to marry as soon as they finished their graduate studies.

They even held their engagement ceremony in America. But during that time, Ji Shen had to return home suddenly due to his father’s death. For reasons unknown, Yu Bai chose to stay behind and continue her PhD studies. Word was that they broke up over it. This was mostly gossip Zhou Hui had heard from Han Wei. In his telling, Yu Bai had once been a passionate and gentle woman, open about her emotions. Her romantic history was well-known among students and faculty at the Provincial Police University, and since returning from abroad, she seemed even more liberated. She didn’t mind others discussing her private life, which made it easy to dig up details.

If her earlier romantic escapades were a patchwork of rumors pieced together and embellished by many, the later events could be called the official account.

In the year Ji Shen graduated with his master’s, he stayed in Pingling City to handle his father’s affairs—arranging the tombstone, portrait, and sorting through belongings. He had planned to return to America to marry Yu Bai and complete their wedding, but his father’s sudden death had deeply shaken his mother. Soon after, her mental state began to deteriorate. So, he gave up his studies abroad, enrolled in a PhD program at a local school to stay close and care for her, then entered the Police Academy and joined the Special Operations Team. He went back to America on a mission, and upon its completion, they rekindled their relationship and married after returning home.

The official version was never as entertaining as the whispered tales passed from mouth to mouth, and it glossed over Yu Bai’s side of things in vague terms. It also skipped any details about Ji Shen’s time back in the country. Zhou Hui understood the intent behind this sanitized telling, though, since it came from her father, Zhou Boyan.

Zhou Boyan had probably hoped to quash her curiosity about Yu Bai by laying it all out at once. Yet at every crucial juncture, he artfully skipped ahead, omitting precisely the parts Zhou Hui most wanted to hear. No matter how she pressed him, he clamped his jaw shut and sealed his lips, refusing to divulge more. What could she do? She turned to others for information, but sealed-off details weren’t easy to uncover. Even now, all Zhou Hui had pieced together was this fragmented, incomplete mishmash that resembled nothing coherent.

Zhou Hui shook her head helplessly. By then, the car had pulled up to the gates of the Ji Family Villa. She got out, used her key to open the entrance, and stepped into the courtyard. Several peach trees in the yard had long since shed their blossoms, now sprouting lush green leaves and a few glossy green peaches. They looked decent—not exactly thriving with branches laden heavy, but growing vigorously enough. Neat stacks of chopped dead branches lay piled against the wall. Yu Bai must not have hired anyone to tend the place during her two years away; she’d probably only had it trimmed after returning last month.

Approaching the door, Zhou Hui noticed one peach tree by the entrance had withered and died, reinforcing her suspicions. Why had Yu Bai rushed back to America two years ago?

Was it connected to Ji Shen’s defection?

Two years earlier, her husband had defected to the drug traffickers, getting countless people killed. Every case he’d handled had to be scrapped and restarted from scratch, all while bracing for retaliation from the traffickers. And Yu Bai, as his wife, had extricated herself completely in record time, leaving not a shred of evidence for the police. Was that even possible?

Or had she employed some unknown method to perfectly distance herself from it all?

Zhou Hui stared at the dead peach tree, pondering for a moment, but she couldn’t make sense of it. She pulled out her key and turned the lock.

The villa’s interior was decorated in a dimly lit old European style dominated by dark red tones, much like Yu Bai’s office on the top floor of the Red Club. The place was enormous, filled with countless rooms, and Zhou Hui couldn’t shake the feeling that secrets hid behind every door. Peeking into Yu Bai’s private world like this made her pulse quicken with a thrill of excitement.

Zhou Hui was a woman of strong principles. She would never simply push open a door to pry into hidden matters, no matter how tempting, not even if she were completely alone.

Forcing herself to head upstairs, she followed Yu Bai’s directions and quickly located the bedroom.

Pushing the door open, Zhou Hui was surprised to find the room astonishingly sparse: just a bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a bedside table holding only a single lamp. The setup clashed entirely with the villa’s opulent layout, as if it had been hastily prepared for nothing more than a night’s sleep—like a hotel guest room.

Zhou Hui slid open the modestly sized wardrobe. Inside, suits hung in neat rows, predominantly black, white, and gray, with a few other colors mixed in. Scanning from left to right, she didn’t spot a single casual outfit. She recalled how Yu Bai always appeared in a suit during their meetings, no matter the occasion—even that time at her house. It was as if Yu Bai was perpetually ready for business, with no time set aside even for relaxation.

Zhou Hui had intended to grab a couple of coats in case it got chilly in the mornings or evenings, but she immediately abandoned the idea. Following her own habits for storing clothes, she pulled open the drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe and selected a few undergarments, stuffing them into a tote bag. She then ducked into the bathroom to gather toiletries. By now, the sun had fully set. She flicked on the light, packed everything Yu Bai would need, and snapped off the switch with a click.

Locking the door behind her, Zhou Hui walked to the car and opened the door to place the bag inside. Suddenly, a rush of wind whistled from behind her. On pure instinct, she dodged aside—just in time to see an iron rod slam down inches from her face. It struck the car door with a resounding clang, leaving a noticeable dent only an inch away.

Zhou Hui shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if that blow had landed on her head. She frowned. So this was the guy Yu Bai had mentioned—the one who didn’t actually want her dead?

Before the attacker could recover, Zhou Hui seized his wrist. But he was stronger than he looked; after a few fierce struggles, he wrenched free and swung at her again, relentlessly. Zhou Hui swiftly ducked under the rod, only for another figure to charge at her from the side. She leaped back, evading the assault.

After retreating two steps, both men lunged at her simultaneously. Zhou Hui countered by wrenching the rod from one man’s grip and using it to parry the other’s attack. The disarmed thug drew a dagger from his waistband, his face darkening as he advanced.

Zhou Hui felt no real pressure. Back in her days with the criminal investigation team, she’d handled groups of more than a dozen street punks without breaking a sweat. Deciding to end it quickly, she wielded the iron rod to target their wrists precisely. She snapped handcuffs on one thug, then swiftly tackled the other to the ground.

The villa district was always serene, surrounded by lush greenery and insulated from city noise. Even during the day, disturbances were rare, as if it were a private garden oasis carved out for the city’s elite. Their scuffle had created quite the racket, and it wasn’t long before a nearby resident called security to complain.

By then, guards had rushed over. Spotting the commotion from afar, one shouted, “Hey, what’s going on over there? You residents? Stop it now, or I’m calling the cops!”

Zhou Hui flashed her badge. “No need to call. I’m the police.”

The security guard’s profanity died in his throat. After a stunned pause, he managed to compose himself, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Officer, what happened here?”

“Two thugs causing trouble. How’d you let people like this inside?” Zhou Hui’s tone carried some heat as she imagined what might have befallen Yu Bai if she’d returned instead. She wasn’t really expecting an answer, though. With a frown, she phoned the local station to have them come pick up the pair.

Zhou Hui waited until the officers from the station arrived and completed the handover before heading home. In the interim, she sent Yu Bai a quick text:

【You okay over there?!】

Yu Bai replied almost immediately with two words:

【Fine.】

Only then did the knot of worry in Zhou Hui’s chest finally ease.

After wrapping things up here, Zhou Hui drove toward home. Fortunately, it wasn’t far. She packed a few changes of clothes, grabbed several jackets for Yu Bai, and added some casual outfits Yu Bai had bought but never worn—extremely loose T-shirts. Zhou Hui had no idea if Yu Bai would actually wear them, but she figured it was worth preparing them anyway; whether Yu Bai put them on was a different matter altogether.

Zhou Hui racked her brain for anything else she might need to bring but came up blank.

Before leaving, she noticed some miscellaneous books on the bedside table. With Yu Bai cooped up in the ward and spending most of her time working in silence, she must be bored out of her mind. Zhou Hui selected two decent ones and tucked them into her bag to take along.

The trouble at the Villa District had eaten up far too much time. She’d waited nearly half an hour just for her colleagues from the Local Police Station to show up and take the suspects into custody. As a result, Zhou Hui didn’t make it back to the hospital until after nine o’clock that evening.

She pushed open the door to find Yu Bai sitting idly on the hospital bed, scrolling through her phone as if she’d been at it for ages.

Outside the window, crickets sang their pleasing melody from the grass. A few moths bumped gently against the white incandescent lampshade in the ward, over and over, as if they could never get enough.

Zhou Hui recalled the moth-to-a-flame story she’d heard as a child. Back then, she’d marveled at how a tiny moth could muster such courage. In time, she came to understand: some people were like those moths, relentlessly seeking light and warmth amid endless darkness, persisting right up until the end.

Zhou Hui’s gaze settled on Yu Bai, who looked up at the sound of the door and broke into a smile. “You’re back!”

Such an utterly ordinary greeting.

Yet it made Zhou Hui’s heart flutter. She stood in the doorway, bags in hand, and returned the smile with a soft whisper of her own. “I’m back.”