Chapter 8: “You’ve Really Never Had a Boyfriend? Not Even Once?”

“What’s the matter?” Zhou Hui asked.

“Want to grab dinner together?” Yu Bai replied.

“I’m heading home.” Zhou Hui had no desire to have any further dealings with Yu Bai. She always sensed that Yu Bai was the kind of person whose true depths couldn’t be fathomed at a glance. Interacting with someone like that took too much energy. Since Yu Bai had already been cleared as a suspect, Zhou Hui saw no need to cultivate any other personal relationship.

“Then let me give you a ride.”

“Heh, no thanks.” After giving Yu Bai a couple of glances, Zhou Hui turned and walked away.

Such an obvious rebuff would have made most people back off, but Yu Bai was clearly not most people. Far from giving up, she deployed her full arsenal of persistence on Zhou Hui. After a few steps, Zhou Hui noticed Yu Bai’s car trailing her at a careful distance—neither too close nor too far. When she glanced back, Yu Bai leaned out the car window with a smile, waving cheerfully.

Businesspeople like Yu Bai usually dreaded visits from the police. Who else would, fresh off being cleared of suspicion just yesterday, go out of their way to cozy up to an officer?

Zhou Hui frowned and issued a warning. “Didn’t get enough of the interrogation room? Craving a buy-one-get-one-free special?”

Yu Bai’s smile grew even warmer at the sight. “No need to be so wary. I just want to buy you dinner.”

As if!

Beep beep beep—the cars behind them honked furiously.

Zhou Hui suspected that if she kept this up, Yu Bai would tail her all the way home. Not wanting to mar the cityscape, she hesitated briefly before getting into the car.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Now settled in the passenger seat and buckling her seatbelt, Zhou Hui said, “You choose.”

They stopped at a crossroad as the light turned red. Yu Bai gripped the steering wheel and turned to her. “I just got back to the country, so I’m not familiar with many places. There’s a great Japanese restaurant in the business district. Think you can handle it, Officer Zhou?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

Yu Bai remarked, “Officer Zhou, you’re surprisingly easygoing—nothing like when you’re working a case.”

Mention of casework instantly sobered Zhou Hui’s tone. “Working cases isn’t a game. You’ve done criminal investigations yourself; you know how it is. We’re racing the clock against criminals.”

Yu Bai fixed her with that knowing look again. “True enough. But Officer Zhou, you’ve got one detail wrong.” She held up a finger. “I wasn’t qualified to be a detective. Back at the Provincial Department, I was little more than… a consultant. Not even on the official payroll!”

Zhou Hui was caught off guard. Consultants rarely had formal positions, and criminal consultants were especially scarce domestically—usually attached to specific cases only. Yet given the sheer volume and intensity of criminal cases Yu Bai had tackled in the province back then, no one short of a detective could have handled that workload.

Moreover, both she and Ji Shen had been talents headhunted by the Police Bureau from America, credited with cracking major cases. They’d entered the Provincial Department amid fanfare from leaders at every level, which explained the scandal’s outsized impact. From every angle, Yu Bai couldn’t possibly have been just some unaffiliated consultant—unless there had been issues with her from the outset.

The thought made Zhou Hui glance sidelong at Yu Bai, words bubbling up but dying unspoken. What could she even ask? Had you broken rules before joining the Provincial Department? What’s your true background? With Ji Shen surrendering to a drug lord, as his wife, were you truly oblivious?

Leaving aside Yu Bai’s American history—which wasn’t Zhou Hui’s business—even the 725 Case, closed years ago, gave her no standing to interrogate what amounted to a victim.

Luckily, the light turned green, and Yu Bai eased the car forward with the crawling traffic.

Unburdened by such concerns, Yu Bai kept up a light patter of small talk. Pointing to an office building roadside, she said, “Pingling City’s changed so much these years. I remember this spot used to be a park—fake rockeries, a lake, the works. You could even wade in and catch fish.”

“That must’ve been ages ago. The park got shut down by authorities about ten years back. Faulty building materials, and a kid had an accident climbing the rockery. You from Pingling City originally?”

Yu Bai swallowed hard. She’d scaled those rockeries plenty as a child.

“Yeah, but I left for America as a teenager. When I returned three years ago, I figured I’d do some proper reminiscing, but things got so hectic I never revisited half the places from my childhood.” She sighed wistfully, then asked offhandedly, “You a local too, Officer Zhou?”

“Yep.”

“If your parents are still in Pingling City, I’d love to pay them a visit sometime.” Zhou Hui couldn’t shake the faint undercurrent of menace in Yu Bai’s tone.

Yu Bai turned the steering wheel and parked the SUV right in front of the Japanese restaurant. “Let’s get out!”

A server dressed in uniform took the keys from Yu Bai’s hand and drove the vehicle into the garage. No sooner had Yu Bai stepped inside than the front desk manager hurried over to greet her. “Miss Yu, the Room 207 you reserved this morning is on the third floor. Right this way, please.”

Zhou Hui shot Yu Bai a quick glance before stepping into the elevator. Yu Bai turned to her with a smile. “I figured you wouldn’t book a place on your own. This spot is always packed—try reserving in the evening, and you’re out of luck.”

Zhou Hui smiled impassively. They’d only met the night before, and here she was this morning, pulling off a stunt like this. Clearly premeditated!

Once inside Room 207, Yu Bai slid the menu across the table to Zhou Hui. “See anything you want?”

“I don’t eat much Japanese food. Just order your usual,” Zhou Hui replied. Her mind wasn’t on the menu anyway.

Yu Bai asked considerately, “Any food allergies?”

“None.”

Yu Bai placed an order for a few dishes and handed the menu back to the server. “Just bring the food. No one else comes in.”

“Understood, Miss Yu.”

Once the server had left, Yu Bai launched into endless small talk. Zhou Hui’s head began to throb. She endured it as long as she could, but finally snapped. “Yu Bai, what are you trying to say?”

Yu Bai replied breezily, “Eat first. With your workload, you must be starving.”

“…Not at all.” Zhou Hui’s thoughts were entirely on the case.

Yu Bai looked a little helpless as she picked up a slice of salmon sashimi and placed it in Zhou Hui’s bowl. “Officer Zhou doesn’t have a boyfriend, does she?”

Zhou Hui: “…”

Teased about it twice in one afternoon—she popped the fish slice into her mouth.

Yu Bai couldn’t hold back her laughter. “That much of a grudge?”

Zhou Hui laughed too. In that moment, she realized how silly it was to take offense at Yu Bai.

Zhou Hui’s features were more defined than most, giving her a sharp, three-dimensional look. She rarely smiled at work, and with her neat short hair, she came across as stern and unapproachable.

But when she smiled, her eyes sparkled with brightness, her brows curved in amusement, and faint pear dimples appeared at the corners of her lips. It was sweet as honey, the usual distance created by her striking features vanishing entirely. Instead, she seemed warm and inviting.

Zhou Hui’s chopsticks paused midway to a piece of sushi. “Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

Yu Bai lifted her gaze to meet Zhou Hui’s eyes, her expression utterly sincere. “You… really want to hear it?”

Zhou Hui thought for a second, then met her gaze with equal sincerity. “Go ahead.”

Yu Bai flashed a mischievous grin, straightened up, and leaned in close, her breath warm against Zhou Hui’s ear. “Officer Zhou, you look… utterly captivating when you smile.”

Zhou Hui never saw that one coming. To be openly flirted with by another woman like this—it hit her like a thunderbolt. The tough Criminal Investigation Team captain who could handle a dozen street punks without breaking a sweat felt her neck and face flush a vivid red, visible to the naked eye. She wasn’t interested in women, boyfriend or no boyfriend.

Clearly, Yu Bai saw it differently. To her, the big captain of the Criminal Investigation Team was a total paper tiger outside of work. She settled back into her seat with an infuriating, watch-the-show expression, as if she were about to say, “You look like a turkey.”

What she actually said wasn’t far off. “You really never had a boyfriend? Not even once?”

Zhou Hui ignored her, her tone sharpening. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

Yu Bai glanced at the dishes on the table. “I’ve barely taken a bite, Officer Zhou. You can’t mistreat the perp like this!”

“Eat up, quick.”

Zhou Hui’s teeth ached.

How had she ended up tangled with this little demon king? Not that the demon king wasn’t attractive. Long lashes cast delicate shadows, her high nose bridge led to full red lips and pearly white teeth. In the dim lighting, her features softened into something gentle and refined, light and shadow tracing perfect contours. Sigh—people really were visual creatures.

When Yu Bai fell quiet, it was like night and day from before. No aggression, no commanding aura, no overbearing pressure—just serenity and stillness. Like the leader of a wolf pack in the mountains suddenly transforming into a soft, vulnerable little white rabbit.

All Zhou Hui could see in her now were the words: still waters run deep.

Yu Bai stayed “still waters run deep” for all of two minutes before opening her mouth and turning back into that foul-mouthed troublemaker. “Officer Zhou, how about I set you up with someone? What type do you like—burly muscle man or fresh-out-of-college pretty boy?”

Zhou Hui: “…”

Yu Bai egged her on. “Come on! Pick one!”

Zhou Hui: “…”

Yu Bai pouted regretfully. “Not a fan of either?”

Zhou Hui: “Stop talking. Eat.”

An hour later, the pampered young miss had finally finished her dinner.

“I tossed and turned all night without sleeping a wink. I still think I should bring these matters to Officer Zhou’s attention.”

“Regarding Wu Guojiang?”

“That’s right.” Yu Bai pulled a thick file folder from her bag and handed it to Zhou Hui. Zhou Hui took it, feeling its substantial weight, then opened it. “I’ve put the most important documents on top,” Yu Bai said. “Everything below is a record of his whereabouts over the past decade or so. Take a look and see if there’s anything you can use.”

Zhou Hui flipped through the pages rapidly, her brows knitting tighter with each one. “…Wu Guojiang’s been in Myanmar all these years? He’s a drug trafficker!”

Yu Bai looked up at Zhou Hui, interlacing her fingers and resting her hands on the table. “Well, Officer Zhou, is that news explosive enough for you? Fifteen years ago, Wu Guojiang sneaked across into Myanmar. He worked as a low-level thug under Miao Deng for several years. Back when border security wasn’t as tight a few years ago, he’d frequently slip back into the country to link up with traffickers on the mainland side, smuggling in massive quantities of drugs. Lately, though, with the border crackdown, he hasn’t shown his face much.”

“Miao Deng? A Myanmarese?”

“Yeah, he got pinched seven years ago and he’s still rotting in a prison cell! Of course, it was the Myanmar cops who nabbed him—I don’t have the details.” Yu Bai arched an eyebrow. “But get this: Wu Guojiang was under Miao Deng for seven or eight years, practically a right-hand man. The moment Miao Deng went down in Myanmar seven years back, Wu led another armed crew straight to their boss’s hideout and torched it.”

“A rival’s plant?” Though Zhou Hui wasn’t in narcotics, she kept a sharp eye on anything drug-related. Infighting was common among the kingpins—for drugs and money, a human life wasn’t worth a dime to them.

But Yu Bai shook her head. “Doesn’t seem like it. Because right after, Wu Guojiang handed that crew over to the Myanmar police himself, then smuggled the drugs back solo. That shipment vanished without a trace once it hit domestic soil. After that, nothing about him working for anyone else. The underground networks along the China-Myanmar line haven’t whispered his name in years—it’s almost like he hung up his spurs.” Yu Bai gave a casual smile. “But in this game, hardly anyone truly retires. It’s usually all the way to the bitter end.”

Zhou Hui turned a few more pages. “Where’d you get all this intel?”

Yu Bai flashed a grin and shrugged. “Don’t sweat the details. I’ve got my sources. Point is, I delivered.”

“Fair enough. I won’t pry.” Zhou Hui had been a detective long enough to know how it worked. She’d run informants herself over the years—shady types from every corner of society. They had their own networks, digging up dirt through channels the police couldn’t touch. Sometimes, to crack a case, you teamed up.

Yu Bai lit a cigarette, drew a deep drag, and exhaled lazy smoke rings toward Zhou Hui. “Officer Zhou knows her stuff.” She dipped her head to smoke.

Zhou Hui paused on a page and jabbed at a line of text. “What’s with the blank spot two years ago?”

Yu Bai stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray, frowned, and wafted away the haze before glancing over. “That stretch? It’s a real head-scratcher. I couldn’t track him at all—like he dropped off the map.”

Zhou Hui caught the hesitation in Yu Bai’s expression. “What are you holding back?”

“Gaps like that usually mean he was running ops for some heavyweight pulling strings from the shadows. If even I couldn’t pin it down, imagine the depths of the swamp behind Wu Guojiang.” Yu Bai kept her laid-back vibe, but her tone turned grave. “Here’s a tip for you, Officer Zhou: know when to pump the brakes. If it’s too deep, pass it up the chain.”

Zhou Hui met Yu Bai’s eyes, her words deliberate and measured. “Are you in danger?”