Zhou Hui had led her team in surveilling them for three days. Every day, they watched the trio fishing at the docks until sunset, then heading to the street food stalls for a meal before returning to Foot Spa City right on the dot at 11:30 p.m. They would enter their respective rooms, and ten minutes later, the lights would go out.
Their routine was unchanging, a strict three-point circuit even more punctual than their own work schedule.
The only variation came each night from the silhouette behind the window. Occasionally, the curtain would part, revealing someone leaning on the sill to light a cigarette, or standing there in a bathrobe—the sole different sight across those three days.
It wasn’t until the evening of the fourth day of watching Foot Spa City that things changed. The group at the docks packed up before sunset. Qin Hua and Uncle Jiu swaggered off with their catch toward the street stalls. Before Zhou Hui could even turn the steering wheel to follow, Yu Bai was already striding toward the car in her high heels.
“Holy shit! Holy shit! Captain Zhou, she must’ve spotted us…”
Sun Ye in the passenger seat let out a string of exclamations. In the next second, Yu Bai raised her hand and knocked on their window.
Knock knock—
Two raps.
The window glass was covered in one-way tint; no one outside could see in.
Yet the woman outside seemed utterly certain they could see her. She waved leisurely at the interior, a smile even curling her lips.
Zhou Hui: “…”
Sun Ye: “…”
Zhou Hui sighed and reluctantly rolled down the window.
“Officer, time to switch cars!”
The evening breeze rushed in with Yu Bai’s voice, diluting the stench of instant noodles and sausage ham inside the car, bringing with it a faint woody fragrance.
Yu Bai propped one hand on the window frame, hooked off her sunglasses with the other, lowered her gaze, and arched a brow at her. “Same three cars circling us day in and day out. Don’t you get tired of tailing us?”
Her arrogance was on full display, unmasked.
Zhou Hui gripped the steering wheel, turned her head, and said coolly, “What do you want?”
“Don’t be so tense, Officer Zhou.” A smile played on Yu Bai’s lips as she winked at Sun Ye behind Zhou Hui, then shifted her gaze back, her eyes narrowing playfully. “How about I treat you and your colleague to a bite? You’ve been on us all day; you two look beat.”
Zhou Hui stayed seated, unmoving.
Yu Bai’s eyes drifted down to the trash bag in the car, spotting the half-eaten noodle cup. She lifted her gaze to Zhou Hui with feigned surprise. “Making your colleague eat instant noodles every meal?” She shook her head with a tsk-tsk. “Conditions at the Police Bureau must be rough. You sure you won’t join?”
Zhou Hui eyed her for two seconds, exhaled deeply, and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Sun Ye, get out. We’re going to eat!”
Sun Ye was still reeling from the shock of being made. It took him ages to snap back. “Huh? Huh? Captain Zhou, you mean we’re really… going?”
“Didn’t you just say you were hungry? Free dinner, and you’d rather have noodles?” Zhou Hui glanced back at him. “She’s not bothered; why should we be? Let’s go!”
At that, Sun Ye hurriedly unbuckled and scrambled out. By the time he looked up, Zhou Hui had already slammed the door shut.
She shoved her hands in her pockets, leaned against the car, and tilted her chin at Yu Bai. “Where to?”
Yu Bai stepped back half a pace, raised a brow, and grinned, nodding toward the stalls behind her. “Seafood at the street stalls. Think Officer Zhou and your colleague can handle it?”
“We can handle it, no problem.” Sun Ye circled around the car with a cheeky grin. “Captain Zhou’s definitely fine with it too.”
After three days of instant noodles and sausages, what couldn’t they handle?
Zhou Hui: “…”
Yu Bai’s smile widened as her gaze swept over them. She lowered her eyes and said, “Then let’s go! I’ve got some new developments to report to you officers anyway. We can talk over food?”
Zhou Hui narrowed her eyes, her expression sharpening. “New developments?”
“Over there first.” Yu Bai’s smile softened with mock helplessness. “Just two steps away, Officer Zhou. No need to rush!”
She wagged a finger, turned on her heel, and strode off. Zhou Hui’s breath caught; she licked her lips and followed.
Once the three sat down at a plastic round table in the street stalls, Uncle Jiu’s hostile glares shot toward Zhou Hui repeatedly. Several times, he half-rose as if to flip the table, only for Qin Hua to press him back down by the shoulder each time.
“Uncle Jiu.” Qin Hua sounded exasperated, but amusement glinted behind his glasses. “Be polite to the officer.”
“Polite?” Uncle Jiu slammed the table with a bang. The whole thing shook, nearly toppling the teapot at the edge. His brows furrowed as he bellowed fiercely, “I’ve already been polite as hell to these cops! How much more polite do you want? Should I pour them tea too?”
Uncle Jiu’s voice boomed loud enough that neighboring tables—already packed close together—jumped in unison. They exchanged knowing looks and scooted their chairs farther away.
Sun Ye had just picked up a grilled shrimp with his chopsticks when Uncle Jiu roared at him. He pulled his chopsticks back, pouted, and muttered under his breath, “Such a big temper? No need to pour tea or water—we can handle it ourselves.” Then, with a tentative glance, he pushed the teapot next to him forward. “Old timer, why don’t you have a cup first to cool off?”
Uncle Jiu’s mouth twitched, his anger flaring even hotter.
Zhou Hui felt a headache coming on. She just wanted to ask about the case and wrap up this awkward dinner as quickly as possible. With a sidelong glance, she noticed Yu Bai—the one who had played middleman to get them all here—sitting right beside her, acting as if none of this had anything to do with her.
Feeling helpless, Zhou Hui nudged her. Yu Bai paused mid-peel of a shrimp shell, turned to catch Zhou Hui’s expression, and immediately got the hint. She turned back with a perfunctory remark. “Uncle Jiu, if you’re so unhappy here, why not switch to another table?”
Then she went right back to peeling her shrimp.
Zhou Hui: “…”
That did it. Uncle Jiu shot to his feet, spewing curses as he geared up to give Yu Bai a piece of his mind, only to get pressed firmly back into his seat by Qin Hua.
This time, Qin Hua’s sage advice was: “Harmony brings wealth.”
The meal left all five people at the table thoroughly uncomfortable, but mercifully it didn’t drag on forever, and it soon reached its merciful end.
Uncle Jiu couldn’t wait to bolt. He tossed his chopsticks aside and shuffled out of the food stall in his flip-flops. Qin Hua reached for him but missed, flashing an apologetic smile instead. “Yu Bai, keep the two officers company. Uncle Jiu and I will head out first.”
Zhou Hui narrowed her eyes at the pair’s hasty retreat, then shot Sun Ye a meaningful look. He caught on instantly, setting down his half-eaten grilled fish. He grabbed a napkin, wiped his mouth, and grinned. “I’m stuffed, Captain Zhou. Enjoy the rest—I’ll wait in the car.”
One by one, the three departed, leaving just Zhou Hui and Yu Bai at the table.
Yu Bai had clearly spotted the silent exchange between Zhou Hui and Sun Ye. She lowered her gaze with a faint smile, set down her chopsticks, and tilted her eyes up. “Officer Zhou, you really don’t need to be so on guard with us. We had nothing to do with Miao Deng’s death.”
Zhou Hui, of course, didn’t buy her assurances for a second. Everyone dragged into the Police Bureau’s interrogation room claimed innocence.
Back when she was green, fresh out of the academy, Zhou Hui had fallen for a suspect’s promises a time or two. There was that one murder case: they’d hauled an eighteen-year-old girl from the crime scene. She sobbed the entire ride back in the patrol car. In the interrogation room, the cops had barely gotten two questions out when she broke down in tears—heart-wrenching wails that tugged at the heartstrings, making anyone feel like pressing her further would be persecuting the innocent.
Zhou Hui had been watching from outside the room at the time. Her heart softened, and she made the rookie mistake every young cop does. She leaned toward her mentor, Lu Yan, who’d brought the girl in. “You think she’s really innocent?”
Lu Yan didn’t say a word. He just cued up the crime scene footage for her. The woman in the video—wild-eyed, plunging a knife over and over—bore no resemblance to the pitiful, tear-streaked girl inside. And yet it was the same face. Zhou Hui watched, chilled to the bone.
She still remembered Lu Yan’s words after she’d frozen in place, staring at the screen. He’d spoken gravely: “Ah Hui, you can’t investigate cases on testimony alone. Follow the evidence. When the chain is solid as iron, no suspect—no matter how sly—gets away.”
Nearly a decade later, Lu Yan was retired, but Zhou Hui never forgot it. Simple words, timeless wisdom.
These days, suspects’ pleas and promises bounced right off her like water off stone. The interrogation room saw dozens, even hundreds, of such performances daily; she was numb to it. She looked up, eyed Yu Bai coolly, and said flatly, “Try making it sound a little more sincere.”
Yu Bai: “…”
The air hung thick for a few seconds. Zhou Hui broke first. “So what did you really call me here to say?”
Yu Bai drew a deep breath, let it out slow—resetting herself. Her eyes flicked around, landing on the drink stand nearby. “Something to drink?”
Zhou Hui opened her mouth to say no, then flashed back to their first shared meal. A Japanese spot in the commercial district. Yu Bai had cornered her at the Police Bureau doors after shift, claiming she wanted to discuss the case. But once they sat down, not a word about it—instead, every comment veered wildly off-topic.
Here we go again, same script. Zhou Hui sighed inwardly. With Yu Bai’s stubborn streak and her finicky rituals, skipping the full eat-drink-tea routine meant no answers today.
Resigned, she asked, “What do you want? I’ll grab it.”
“Watermelon juice.” At those words, Yu Bai’s lips curved up once more. She lifted the corners of her eyes toward Zhou Hui and added without ceremony, “Freshly squeezed.”
Zhou Hui’s mouth twitched. She badly wanted to swear, but the reason she’d come to this street food stall flashed through her mind, so she held her tongue. Adjusting her drooping expression, she forced a smile, stood up, and said, “Got it. I’ll ask the boss to squeeze one for you right now.”
Yu Bai gave a light smile. “Thanks.”
Zhou Hui walked over to speak with the boss. He shook his head at first, but after she said a few more words, he nodded. Ten minutes later, she returned with two cups of watermelon juice, handing one to Yu Bai while keeping the other for herself.
Yu Bai arched a brow with a smile and took the cup. “You like watermelon juice too?”
“Not particularly.” Zhou Hui dragged out a stool and sat down. “Boss said one watermelon makes at least two cups, or he won’t sell.”
Yu Bai’s smile faltered. “Uh… fair enough. Different place next time.”
She pulled out the straw and set it aside, then lowered her gaze to take two sips. Her eyes brightened, and she looked up at Zhou Hui with an appreciative tone. “It’s genuinely fresh. Great mouthfeel too.”
Watching the woman across from her savor an eight-yuan cup of watermelon juice like it was a bottle of ’82 Lafite made Zhou Hui feel for a moment as if they were dining on Western cuisine at a five-star restaurant, not wolfing down food at a dockside stall.
Unsure how to reply, Zhou Hui took two polite sips of her own. “Yeah, it’s pretty good.” But she refused to indulge the small talk for even a second longer. She pivoted sharply. “Watermelon juice is done. Now can you tell me? Why’d you drag me out here?”
The elegant tasting notes Yu Bai had been brewing caught in her throat, forced down by Zhou Hui’s abrupt question. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then donned her noble, aloof mask once more. In a cool voice, she said, “Very well.” She paused briefly, then the corner of her mouth hooked up as a sly, less-than-innocent gleam slid into her eyes. “For the watermelon juice you bought me.”
The impassive mask on her face shattered in an instant.
Zhou Hui’s expression went momentarily blank.
Seizing the opening, Yu Bai dipped her head to her handbag, pulled out a photo, and slid it right under Zhou Hui’s nose.
Zhou Hui leaned back a touch and lifted a brow. “Who’s this?”
The photo showed a man with sharp, three-dimensional features and deep-set eyes that hinted at mixed foreign heritage. He wore a suit and held a glass of red wine—clearly a frame grabbed from a blurry video of some cocktail event.
“Huamao Appliances’ crown prince, Frank—Fu Langzhe.” Yu Bai’s gaze flickered as she flicked the photo lightly with a fingertip, then tilted her head toward Zhou Hui. “Weren’t you dying to know who Miao Deng met up with during his five days in Pingling City? Ta-da. This guy.”
Zhou Hui took the photo and studied it again. “Any direct proof he actually met Miao Deng?”
Yu Bai nodded calmly and fished a USB drive from her bag. She grabbed Zhou Hui’s hand and pressed it into her palm. “Video footage. The night Miao Deng was killed, at…” She jabbed a finger toward the alley behind Zhou Hui. “The second hair salon down that alley behind you. They had a camera out front that caught Miao Deng talking to Frank. Timestamp… roughly ten-oh-three p.m.”
Zhou Hui glanced over her shoulder in that direction. Sure enough, a hair salon sat there. But the police bureau had scoured every camera on that stretch of road inside three days—flipping through the footage at least five times. Nothing showed Miao Deng speaking to anyone.
And that particular hair salon…
“It has a camera out front?” Zhou Hui furrowed her brow and shot Yu Bai a skeptical glance. “Unless I’m misremembering, the only camera in that alley is at the mouth of it. The salon door’s smack in a blind spot. Can’t see a thing.”
She recalled that morning when they’d pulled the tapes. The salon’s boss—a woman with a wild rainbow dye job—had planted herself in the doorway, hands on hips, refusing to let the cops inside. She’d thrust out her chest and blustered:
“No haircut? Then scram! We ain’t broken no laws! Don’t know nothin’! Never seen him! All guys look alike!”
Moments later, the inner room’s beaded curtain parted, and a tangled-up couple stumbled out. Only then did the boss grudgingly step aside. Her attitude stayed cocky as ever—no help at all.
“Camera? Us? You gotta be kidding. There’s one at the road entrance, sure…”
Zhou Hui fixed Yu Bai with another doubtful stare, holding up the USB drive. “So where’d you get this video?”
“Pinhole camera.” Yu Bai quirked a brow, unflinching even before a cop. Her voice stayed even and assured. “This neighborhood’s a real mixed bag—shady types, complicated backgrounds. Police poking around gets messy. I happen to know the salon boss personally. She’s happy to help me out, which beats the runaround you cops get.”
That much was true, but…
Zhou Hui studied her expression and suddenly thought of something. Her gaze sharpened as she furrowed her brows. “Do you have some bad blood with Fu Langzhe?”
Yu Bai froze for a moment, genuinely surprised. She was just about to play dumb when she looked up and locked eyes with Zhou Hui’s warning stare—a look that clearly screamed “I don’t buy it.”
“That obvious?” Yu Bai dropped the act. She licked her lips and came right out with it. “He has connections to Yan Mingchang.”
No wonder.
“Planning to leverage the cops again to knock out your business rival?” Zhou Hui arched a brow, her eyes narrowing as they drifted to Yu Bai’s left arm—the cast had come off barely a month ago. “Bandages haven’t even been off a full month, have they? Not worried he’ll come back swinging and leave you half-paralyzed?”
“…”
Yu Bai went quiet for a beat, then let out a soft sigh. A smile curved her lips as she propped her chin on one hand and leaned in close to Zhou Hui’s ear. “I am pretty scared, you know.”
Zhou Hui tilted her head back slightly, watching the way Yu Bai’s gaze flickered with allure, her voice soft and coaxing. She inched even closer, her own tone softening further.
“So, tomorrow night at nine-thirty, Frank’s hosting a banquet at his private manor. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance—we might even uncover evidence tied to Miao Deng’s murder. I’d like to invite Officer Zhou to join me.”
