Chapter 23

Chapter 23 Chapter 23 Charging In on the Light

【Shocking! Serial killer appears in our city!】

【Explosive! Internet-famous female livestreamer found dead in park, suspect possibly on the run…】

【Throat-slitting plus disfigurement? People beware! Psychologist analysis online: the next victim might be you.】

At 10 a.m., just as office workers had finished their team meetings and were preparing to slack off, marketing accounts competing for maximum traffic began to push hard. Various angles, various headlines—whatever was most sensational was used. In the blink of an eye, Qiu Tao, still unconscious in the hospital, had completed a “cyber death.”

Because the crime happened at midnight and the city bureau responded quickly, the scene photos were relatively blurry, and only a few leaked out. But the large pool of blood remaining in the sandbox still left enough room for people’s imagination.

The Jian Group headquarters was located in the very center of Bei Jiang, in the CBD where every inch of land was worth gold. Logically speaking, a case in the old district—no matter how terrifying—should be somewhat distant from them.

Yet today’s anonymous gossip group was extremely heated about it.

It started when someone posted three repeated questions: 【Did you see today’s news? The shadow next to the ambulance… why does it look like Mr. Jian?】

Crime scene photos, even when mosaicked, are rarely carefully examined by ordinary people, let alone zoomed in and analyzed. This is a normal avoidance response.

The “shadow” mentioned in the chat was in the corner of the last photo, mostly blocked by the ambulance door, so it had initially gone completely unnoticed.

However, once someone opened the topic and curiosity drove the discussion, more and more “evidence” surfaced through chatter.

【You know what… now that you mention it, that build and aura really does look exactly like our boss.】

【Even a blurry image can’t hide that face card.】

【……But that person had blood on their hands.】

【The clothes were torn too.】

【Emmm… actually Mr. Jian didn’t come to work today. Could it be…】

The group chat, which had been refreshing with seven or eight messages per second, suddenly stopped scrolling.

Locals in Bei Jiang who spent any time online knew that over the years, the speculation that “Jian Qing is the real culprit behind the Qing Shan Road family massacre” had never truly disappeared.

Although Jian Qing was only six years old at the time, he was the sole survivor, and later frequently became associated with legal news, making him an easy target for suspicion.

For example: Jian Qing’s bedroom wasn’t locked, and he was asleep—if the murderer had time to set up the scene, why not go upstairs and eliminate all witnesses?

And even taking a step back, if the murderer hadn’t done any prior reconnaissance and just acted on impulse, there was a family photo right in the living room. He should have known there were five people in the house—was he really not afraid that the child he spared would see his face?

A criminal who ruthlessly took four lives on New Year’s Eve did not seem like someone who would show mercy to a child.

Twenty-two years ago, regulations were not yet complete, and the Jian family was a “local prestigious household,” so multiple media outlets dug into the case, and most of the details were exposed.

Because “Qing Shan Road No. 6” is a nationally famous cold case, its popularity never dies down, and every time Jian Qing is mentioned in news, the case gets brought up again.

Employees of the Jian Group are mostly young, but many of them have still heard similar rumors.

Moreover, the shadow in the crime scene photo was indeed suspicious. Covered in blood and being questioned by police—when imagining it as their boss’s pale, cold face, killing seemed more “coherent” than saving someone.

【??? What are you all talking about? Isn’t the boss just on a date with his boyfriend?】

Suddenly, a message completely unrelated to the murder case popped up, breaking the frozen silence of the text.

One stone stirred up a thousand waves, and more lurking accounts surfaced:

【Right right, I was about to say this too—the boss seems to have a boyfriend, a 1.9m tall long-legged super handsome guy who’s picked him up from work twice.】

【Stop guessing nonsense, the boss hasn’t driven these past few days, and someone else also came to pick him up.】

【The other two are from the city bureau, JC. The front desk sees them all the time, it’s normal, totally normal.】

【Anyway, I think there’s solid proof. According to reliable sources, the boss has actually been taking lunch breaks recently, even sleeping in the lounge, and his overtime count is basically zero.】

【So… is Mr. Jian still not up?】

【+1, still not up.】

【Cough cough cough, I don’t understand what you’re all saying. (blushing meme.jpg)】

【Move aside, move aside. The pure-love warrior firmly votes for “dating.” Xiaohongshu has recently been recommending that newly built Hongda amusement park—a world-class IP, couples must go, it just opened today.】

【Amusement park? The vibe is off-track, pass pass.】

【Then what vibe should it be? Don’t tell me a one-day tour of the Bei Jiang City Bureau?】

【Impossible impossible. I’ve seen the boss’s boyfriend—he looks like a model, or an artist, or a race car driver—anyway, a very romantic free-profession type.】

In anonymous group chats not tied to enterprise software, topics tend to run wild. Most importantly, Jian Qing himself seemed completely indifferent to public opinion.

“I’ve realized netizens really have sharp eyes—they even recognized that was Jian Qing,” Wang Lai groaned while pouring water and slacking off, his neck and shoulders stiff. “I really want to catch them and have them help me watch surveillance.”

Near 6 p.m., the office was buzzing. Wu Nan had been arrested, which both relieved the PR pressure and meant the criminal investigation team’s nonstop overtime had finally ended.

Captain Yan Qiu Yu habitually sorted through the evidence chain to prepare for later interrogation: “Hot pot? My treat.”

“Next time, Captain Yan. I’ve got to go home and keep my wife company,” said Zhou Shan, the only married man in the team, unable to hide his sweetness. “Haven’t seen her for days, I miss her.”

Wang Lai, struck hard, immediately protested: “Captain Yan, look! Old Zhou is feeding us dog food again!”

“Just telling the truth. It’s been busy this week—often by the time I get home she’s already asleep,” Zhou Shan scratched his head and laughed. “Next time, next time for sure. I’ll have your sister-in-law make you chicken drumsticks.”

The instant noodle specialist Wang Lai instantly switched sides: “That sounds great. Sister-in-law’s cooking is amazing. Actually, Fox He can cook too…” He turned. “So how about going to your place tonight?”

He Linfeng was staring blankly at Wu Nan’s file on the computer. Without thinking, he refused: “Next time.”

Wang Lai was unconvinced.

He was about to say—you’re single, you just moved into a new apartment, it’s perfect for a little housewarming gathering—but then suddenly remembered the two figures he had glimpsed last night.

Captain Yan Qiu Yu, on the other hand, asked openly: “You didn’t drive your own car? Jian Qing’s?”

Working with police—especially homicide detectives—means that unless you deliberately hide it, it’s hard to avoid being caught in some “clues.”

He Linfeng answered honestly: “Mm.”

“I sent him home last night. It was late, hard to get a taxi. Mr. Jian was kind enough not to make me walk back.”

He explained it clearly and properly, with strong boundaries, not intending to create any rumor-like ambiguity about his relationship with Jian Qing.

Even though he did have his own private motives.

Wang Lai was puzzled: “Then how did you get to Baisha Street?”

He Linfeng replied calmly: “Shared bike.”

If not for the fact that the boss’s residential area was too upscale and too remote with no bike docks nearby, he actually could’ve ridden it back.

Wang Lai surrendered: “You really do have energy, sir.”

“You’re splitting up?” Yan Qiu Yu caught the blind spot sharply and looked up. “Wasn’t it you who sent Jian Qing home yesterday?” Go home first, then head out again, cruising around and staking out targets on the way—it still felt a bit off no matter how she thought about it.

“The first time I finally got someone to agree to go out with me, I’ve got to put some effort into my image,” He Linfeng said without the slightest change in expression, completely justified. “Dress up a bit like a campus guy, look younger.”

Song Xiao Tong, secretly shipping the gossip, immediately nodded like a chick pecking at rice: “Ohhh ohhh, that campus heartthrob vibe.” Biking, basketball, reminiscing youth—like something straight out of an idol drama.

Wang Lai, on the other hand, made a face like he couldn’t bear to watch.

Easily brushing past the topic, He Linfeng took out his phone and sent a WeChat message: 【6:30?】

Jian Qing’s commute time was extremely regular and usually didn’t change easily—He Linfeng knew that very well—but it didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to message him.

However, until the dinner plan completely collapsed and everyone from the criminal investigation team finished packing up to leave work, He Linfeng still hadn’t received a reply from Jian Qing.

Certain he hadn’t offended that particular CEO last night, He Linfeng couldn’t find even a trace of being “snubbed” or awkwardly disappointed, and simply called him directly.

No answer.

Second time.

Third time.

…

After hearing six full rounds of busy tone, a familiar voice finally came through the receiver:

“Hello.”

Hoarse and faint, heavily nasal.

That made He Linfeng unconsciously soften his tone even more: “Jian Qing?”

“You’re sick?”

“Did you take medicine?”

“Is there anyone taking care of you?”

As if finding it noisy, in the pitch-black bedroom, the young man buried entirely under the blanket frowned and pushed the phone farther away.

His limbs felt as heavy as lead blocks; his head was spinning, his throat dry as if burned by fire. Compared to that, the stomach cramps were almost negligible.

Thanks to the heavy blackout velvet curtains and his overwhelming fatigue, Jian Qing had completely lost his sense of time. He only felt like he had just fallen asleep when He Linfeng, out of sheer boredom, started bothering him.

“Jian Qing?”

“Jian Qing?”

The buzzing in his ears grew louder and louder. Too lazy to speak, the young man being called simply closed his eyes, fumbled around, and long-pressed the power button.

But not long after—maybe a minute, maybe an hour—Jian Qing, who had just fallen back into darkness, was awakened again by the doorbell.

He very rarely slept this soundly.

No dreams, no memories. So when that long-lost peace was shattered, the young man sat up irritably, his low-pressure aura almost tangible.

Relying on muscle memory, he found his slippers, walked out of the bedroom, precisely avoided the furniture as he headed to the entrance, and was immediately blinded by the bright hallway light.

Before Jian Qing could even raise his hand to shield his eyes, a shadow leaned down and covered him.

“So hot,” his sluggish nerves failed to react in time, and Jian Qing was half a beat slow, watching as He Linfeng placed a hand on his forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Don’t feel anything?”

Warm, unfamiliar breath brushed past him softly. He instinctively wanted to dodge, yet his body honestly followed its instincts, reluctant to let go of that cool palm.

——Danger.

“Thanks,” forcibly pulling back his rationality and pushing the other away, Jian Qing said weakly, “I’ll take medicine myself.”

But the man was like a sticky, oversized dog. In a flash, as if not afraid of pain, he blocked the door that was about to close with one hand, seizing the chance to rush in along the light.

“The medicine’s expired.”

“I brought new ones.”