Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Then I’ll Be Gentle.

In less than twenty-four hours, Jian Qing had come to the city bureau again.

Because he was only cooperating with the investigation, the location was arranged in the Criminal Investigation Team office. Just as he raised his hand, the door opened from inside, revealing He Linfeng’s smiling face: “Good afternoon.”

“Team Yan is waiting for the autopsy report. You can sit for a while.”

Jian Qing frowned.

The other person’s dictionary seemed to completely lack the words “safe distance.” He was lazily leaning against the door frame, body slightly tilted forward, carrying a faint scent of shampoo warmed by body heat.

It didn’t smell bad.

But it was extremely present.

“How’s your wound? Has it scabbed over?” His tone carried a natural familiarity as He Linfeng carefully looked at the bandage on the young man’s left cheek—it was square, not the one he had bought.

Jian Qing originally wanted to say: none of your business.

As the so-called “protagonist with a universal-attraction aura” in the transmigrators’ mouths, from childhood to adulthood, countless men and women had shown him overt or subtle favor. This “destined to be loved” setting often made Jian Qing feel disgusted:

Vows of everlasting love or promises of eternity—none of those declarations were actually aimed at him as a person, only at the abstract label of “the protagonist.”

He Linfeng was the same.

Even if the man really seemed to like his face.

Love at first sight? Nothing more than hormones-driven lust, maybe even influenced by the system’s urging.

But he could also make use of him.

Swallowing the cold words that nearly came out, Jian Qing forced himself to stand still, lifted his head, and looked into He Linfeng’s eyes through the lenses: “I don’t know.”

“You check?”

Still the same indifferent expression—no matter how one looked at it, it was far from ambiguous; it looked more like: “touch me and you’re dead.”

But the existence of his target of affection itself was already a kind of temptation to He Linfeng.

So he chose to accept the invitation without hesitation.

And in the moment the young man tried to step back, he grabbed his forearm through the sleeve, sliding down inch by inch, until he firmly circled that thin, pale wrist.

“Afraid of pain?” He Linfeng deliberately misinterpreted the attempted withdrawal and smiled. “Then I’ll be gentle.”

Jian Qing had ten thousand ways to break free.

However, in order to lure out the system’s response, he had to give enough bait.

A transmigrator affiliated with the public security system, inside a crime-investigation-themed novel—any hint of malicious intent would bring endless trouble.

“It’s swollen.”

The treated wound had already scabbed over, leaving a finger-length red mark. The unfamiliar breath brushed lightly across it. Jian Qing felt uneasy sitting still and closed his eyes in restraint.

Killing is illegal.

Non-aggressive physical contact counted as a side task in the strategy mission; when progress increased, the system would automatically issue a notification. He had used this to expose many “internal traitors.”

Damn it—He Linfeng better hurry up.

“Does Mr. Jian not know something?” In the suffocating silence where every second felt like a year, the man’s teasing voice came through. “When you’re making eye contact, suddenly closing your eyes is basically an invitation to kiss.”

Crash.

At the corner, Song Xiaotong dropped the files she was holding all over the floor: “Ah… this… you two…”

Not—yesterday these two people in the car still needed her to smooth things over, so how did it turn into dry wood meeting fire today, completely out of control?

—No system.

The brief moment of distraction caused Jian Qing to miss the best chance to shake off He Linfeng. Immediately after, the man’s fingertip pressed lightly against the skin of his left cheek: “The bandage fell off.”

“I’ll stick it back on for President Jian.”

Song Xiaotong: …cold and indifferent. Did they really think she was a three-year-old kid? Even a rookie is still a police academy graduate—she has eyes, she can see evidence!

Jian Qing abruptly pulled away.

The hand holding his left wrist sensibly loosened into a light hold, and he broke free without much effort, narrowly stopping himself from punching the man on the spot.

The result was already out—there was no need for further physical contact with He Linfeng, nor any need to entangle further.

Although he still hadn’t figured out why the man had suddenly moved to Beijiang and become an anomaly in the established pattern, that was not something he needed to care about.

“Sorry,” the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch still remained on his cheek, making Jian Qing extremely uncomfortable. He nodded slightly toward Song Xiaotong. “I’ll go to the restroom for a moment.”

Deliberately leaving the most approachable He Linfeng to entertain the guest, Yan Qiuyu had just finished organizing the report and pushed the door open—only to be greeted by a room of silence.

It was as quiet as a forensic storage room.

“What’s going on here?” She casually poured two cups of hot water and placed them in front of Jian Qing. “I thought you’d be going out on another field case. Didn’t expect you to be free right now.”

Song Xiaotong quietly peeked her little head out from behind the computer.

She had heard that after the 2.13 family extermination case, Jian Qing had lived at the bureau headquarters for a long time. Judging by Team Yan’s attitude now, he really was one of their own.

“There’s a homicide at Jiang University…”

The moment she spoke, He Linfeng keenly noticed the atmosphere around the young man grow dark and oppressive. Even though, to outsiders, he had only very lightly pressed his lips together.

As if casually chatting, Yan Qiuyu continued: “The victim seems to be your fan—Xi Xue. Does that ring a bell?”

Jian Qing shook his head.

Yan Qiuyu handed over a photo: “How about now?”

The girl’s hair was neatly tucked behind her ears. She was waving at the camera, smiling brightly.

“At yesterday’s lecture, she gave me flowers,” Jian Qing replied without hesitation. “A bouquet of sunflowers, orange-and-white wrapping paper, black ribbon.”

Surprised that he could describe it in such detail, Song Xiaotong quickly added a few more notes.

“After that, I followed my schedule and went to Yuedu Department Store for a meeting. I ran into Jia Xiangyu there and didn’t see her again,” Jian Qing continued. “The flower-giving was part of the school’s arrangement, not something I specifically requested.”

His tone was too calm—rather than an explanation, it sounded more like simple recollection.

Yan Qiuyu: “How was Xi Xue’s condition at the time?”

Jian Qing: “Normal.” She was radiating happiness and joy, thin arms and legs, extremely low threat level.

He Linfeng tilted the chair back with his long legs and spun around once.

Yan Qiuyu tilted her head: “You thought of something?”

“The cufflink,” He Linfeng said slowly, loosely holding a pen between his index and middle fingers. “The grass around it showed no signs of being stepped on.”

Rainwater can wash away footprints, but bent blades of grass are hard to restore.

Song Xiaotong was immediately pulled into the thought process: “…Maybe it flew out during a struggle? And just happened to land under the tree?”

“What does Mr. Jian think?” He Linfeng asked with a half-smile, his gaze falling on the neatly folded collar of the young man’s shirt.

Although it wasn’t very noticeable, when he had deliberately leaned in earlier to check the cuff area, his palm had indeed felt something hard pressing against it.

“I did lose a cufflink,” Jian Qing said openly, clearly catching the probing intent in the question. “Before I went on stage yesterday.”

He Linfeng: “You didn’t report it?”

Jian Qing: “I don’t like making a big fuss over small things.”

“Something worth tens of thousands is a small thing?”

“To me, it’s just a decorative accessory for formal occasions. If Consultant He likes it, I can give you the other one.”

Verbal sparring.

Yan Qiuyu interrupted helplessly: “Enough, enough—public officials are not allowed to accept gifts.” According to the report, Xi Xue’s body had no external injuries. Whether it was suicide or homicide was still unclear. The office was not an interrogation room—things needed to be toned down.

Looking left and right, Song Xiaotong weakly thought to herself: Consultant He really was cold-hearted and impartial—he had just “kissed” someone earlier, and now he was treating him like a suspect.

The calmest one was actually Jian Qing.

He was too used to being suspected and misunderstood. Refuting it was merely an ingrained reflex; it didn’t mean his heart was moved.

“It’s fine,” Jian Qing said. “Cooperating with police investigations is every citizen’s duty. I’m willing to answer any questions related to the case.”

Wang Lai walked in while yawning: “Well said.”

“Look at that level of awareness.”

If those blurry, messy surveillance videos could be like that too—spitting out clues on their own—then he, so handsome and dashing, wouldn’t have to end up with panda eyes from overwork.

Still, there were some gains… just a tiny bit.

After parting ways with her roommate, Xi Xue had gone straight into a luxury car parked at the school gate. From deletion records on Jiang University’s anonymous forum, it could be seen that someone had taken photos and uploaded them; some comments were quite harsh, likely the reason for Li Yao’s sarcastic tone.

Quietly, he sent a message in the work group chat: 【Alas, alas, rumors are fiercer than tigers.】

【The ancients truly did not deceive me.】

Team Yan and Xiaotong were busy with statements, so not many people replied. After a while, Zhou Shan’s avatar finally popped up: 【What’s got into you? Didn’t sleep well again?】

Wang Lai: 【Get lost, get lost, get lost.】

Then he immediately tossed a link over.

He Linfeng’s phone kept buzzing in his pocket. He raised an eyebrow, took it out, and casually clicked into the trending “ghost post” with over 99+ heat.

The title looked ordinary at first glance: 【Brothers, I think I just passed by President Jian’s ride…】

The OP was a clickbaiter—tricking people in with just a title, then only posting a photo of a car. At first there were barely any replies, until the OP added the string of zeros from the brand’s official website price.

【A number straight out of the heavens.】

【Is this what the world of rich people looks like?】

【That’s just “buying-your-life money” from the King of Hell. You dare touch the car of a lone-star doom magnet? Aren’t you afraid your luck turns bad starting tomorrow? Be careful when crossing the road.】

【Isn’t that a bit too harsh upstairs? At least Jian Qing is an alumnus of our school and has brought honor to Jiang University quite a few times.】

【Brought honor to Jiang University? I think it’s more like donating buildings to Jiang University. Inviting him every year, and every year it ends up on the Legal Affairs Channel. Unlucky.】

【63rd floor, if you’re so capable, don’t use new equipment for your experiments.】

【Although… the Jian Group has always been doing charity.】

【Who knows where all that money actually went?】 As if to prove themselves, the same ID quickly sent several “hard evidence” photos taken from hidden angles.

Her side profile was beautiful. Carrying a bag, she walked quickly forward, and at the moment the car door opened and closed, one could faintly see a young man sitting inside.

【Xi Xue, the goddess of the finance department, the one who gave flowers to Jian Qing after the lecture. Tsk tsk tsk, what’s so special about sunflowers—this is the real best “gift.”】

Interesting.

He Linfeng supported his chin with one hand and commented.

A single image, spun out of pure imagination, was enough to make a group of people believe it as truth.

And moreover, Jian Qing’s skin was much paler, his posture also more proper and composed—while the person in the car looked slouched and unruly, more like some playboy young master.

The unrestrained gaze felt like a sting on his back. Jian Qing’s words paused as he turned his head in warning.

He Linfeng immediately felt the guilty conscience of someone caught peeking at gossip by the main character.

The next second, he curved his eyes again.

Like a fox that had gained sentience—having spotted a fragrant scholar, even if the human skin painting was lifelike, once they met eyes, the disguise would be exposed.

At a table’s distance, completely out of the situation, Wang Lai was focused on typing on the keyboard: 【…Girls are thin-skinned. Do you think Xi Xue might have committed suicide because of this?】

【The car owner is called Bian Shao. Xi Xue was with him until she returned to school.】

【There wasn’t much in her bag. Forensics is still draining water to look for the phone.】

【Who’s coming with me to probe deeper?】