Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Chapter 44 — Apple Rabbit

This meal actually didn’t require much use of a knife.

Most of the ingredients were bought from the supermarket and already lightly pre-processed. They only needed to be washed and plated—ten minutes was enough to finish everything.

“Can you eat spicy food?” Following the young man’s instructions, He Linfeng opened the hanging cabinet and asked, “I bought freshly simmered broth. We can split it and make a yin-yang hotpot.”

Jian Qing stood by the sink: “Mm.”

He originally hadn’t planned to help He Linfeng, but the other man’s clumsy, constrained posture in an unfamiliar kitchen looked a bit too foolish—it was hurting his eyes.

“‘Mm’ what ‘mm’,” He Linfeng laughed, stretching his arm out to take away the half-prepped napa cabbage in the young man’s hands, repeating, “Spicy pot or yin-yang pot?”

Jian Qing: “…yin-yang pot.”

He could eat spicy food, but he hated vegetables cooked in red chili broth—each leaf coated in Sichuan peppercorns, swallowing felt wronged on the tongue, and picking them out was too troublesome.

He Linfeng continued rummaging in the hanging cabinet: “There really is one.”

“It looks like it’s never been used. Can we open it?”

Jian Qing tilted his head to glance at it, having no impression of it at all.

When he first moved into the new neighborhood, He Shao had stuffed him full of “housewarming gifts”—coffee machines, mixers, ovens, rice cookers, almost completely filling the kitchenware category.

This pot was probably also from him.

Jian Qing nodded: “It should be usable.”

He was used to being alone; the number of times he invited people over for meals was almost zero. Even He Shao had only once eaten a meal here during a housewarming visit, so it was normal for things to just gather dust in the cabinet.

He Linfeng immediately became interested and started studying the instruction manual.

Unfortunately, the yin-yang hotpot in the president’s house was no different from the one at his own place—ordinary, with no hidden high-tech features. He placed the box in the corner and walked back toward the sink.

A warm heat source approached from the side, their shoulders almost brushing. That familiar, pleasant faint scent drifted into his nose again, and Jian Qing’s hands paused mid-wash.

“Washing the pot.” Seeing the young man staring at him through his glasses, He Linfeng raised his brows, matter-of-fact.

In a normal apartment kitchen, space was limited and the sink was standard-sized. Two tall men standing together inevitably bumped into each other.

Moreover, He Linfeng moved very quickly. Even while talking, his hands didn’t stop working, making it feel strange for Jian Qing to suddenly step away.

Vegetables were shaken dry, meats were plated separately, fresh shrimp paste was squeezed into round little balls… The broth gurgled into the pot when He Linfeng suddenly said, “Is there fruit in the fridge?”

Jian Qing subconsciously nodded, then seemed to remember something.

But He Linfeng had already walked past him and opened the refrigerator.

Although it wasn’t obvious, He Linfeng still noticed the slight stiffness in the young man’s back. His gaze quickly swept across the fridge interior; aside from cleanliness and neatness, he found nothing unusual.

Behind a few bright red tomatoes, a corner of a container faintly showed. Following instinct, He Linfeng reached in and touched it—feeling residual warmth on his fingertips.

—It had only just been put in.

Before he arrived, Jian Qing was most likely eating. He had forgotten to call ahead; the “surprise” had come at an inconvenient time, yet the other still, after brief hesitation, chose to open the door and quietly put away his takeout.

He Linfeng curved his fox-like eyes.

He smiled with his side turned to Jian Qing, so the young man didn’t see it. Seeing that the other’s attitude remained normal, he soon returned with an apple in hand. Jian Qing slightly relaxed, allowing He Linfeng to take a knife down from the rack.

“Was it washed?”

Jian Qing turned off the tap: “Mm.”

Chh, chh, chh.

In just a few swift motions, the man turned the apple into a plate of childishly cute little rabbit shapes.

The most perfect piece was then handed to Jian Qing’s mouth.

At that moment, Jian Qing was pulling a tissue to wipe his hands. Although he truly didn’t have free hands, their relationship didn’t seem nearly close enough for something like this.

“It’s clean,” He Linfeng explained, deliberately holding only the rabbit’s tail end, “I was afraid I’d hurt you if I stuck it on a knife.”

In all honesty, he really was just used to it.

When he used to go home during holidays in the neighboring province, his parents would always drag him into being a taste-test guinea pig. Gradually, no matter what they cut, the two elders would first feed their son a bite.

Of course, that situation greatly improved after a certain Samoyed was named “He Yushu.”

Which also meant He Linfeng’s family status dropped sharply.

His impulsive feeding hand hovered in the air for a while. Just as he silently reflected on what kind of negative impression he might have in Jian Qing’s eyes, the other actually lowered his head and bit down on the other end of the apple rabbit.

Teeth closed; juice burst out.

With slightly puffed cheeks, the young man turned and walked toward the dining room.

He Linfeng immediately picked up the full yin-yang hotpot and followed: “Wait for me.”

Passing the living room, the projector was still dutifully broadcasting the news. He noticed that Jian Qing’s home didn’t have a television, and even the lighting was slightly dim and warm-toned.

He Linfeng recalled the materials he had read in the case files.

New Year’s Eve, Spring Festival Gala, cold wind, a villa bright as daylight, bloodstains scattered everywhere… Even though it was just black-and-white text, the imagery was extremely vivid. The photos in the kraft folder were merely the tip of the iceberg.

In a daze, it gave the illusion that the other, like Tong Tong’s parents, was still trapped in the year the case happened—perhaps even more deeply than them.

And yet the young man also looked so strong.

Sensibly, He Linfeng did not bring up the past during such a pleasant moment of eating hotpot. He set down each plate one by one and quickly washed the strawberries and cherries he had bought from the supermarket.

Jian Qing’s gaze shifted slightly.

Apart from things like cilantro, which he found especially hard to swallow, he wasn’t picky—he could eat anything. But He Linfeng had clearly remembered the casual remark from the last time at his aunt’s place and was blatantly catering to his preferences.

It took ten minutes for the hotpot to boil. Two people who were neither close nor distant sat facing each other in awkward silence. Jian Qing originally thought it would be awkward, but he had underestimated the police officer’s abilities—he could turn self-talk into eloquence.

“…Pulling one thread and bringing up the whole skein. The Li family’s business was full of inflated numbers. It involved too many people, so the economic crime unit was overwhelmed.”

“Some even converted money into gold bars and buried them back in their hometowns to avoid investigation. They’re completely swamped over there, so Captain Yan sent me and Wan Lai to the countryside to dig for treasure.” Multitasking, He Linfeng reminded him, “The meat’s ready.”

In recent years, moving assets overseas was common, but burying gold bars was rare.

Northern hotpot required sesame sauce. Jian Qing picked up a slice of fatty beef and dipped it lightly into his bowl: “How is the investigation going on that unidentified skeleton in the suburbs?”

His appearance and temperament gave him a naturally unhurried elegance no matter what he was eating. Steam curled upward; his gold-rimmed glasses had been set aside for once, adding a touch of softness. Although his features were still that cold, distant beauty on a mountain peak, he now seemed close enough to reach out and touch.

He Linfeng hesitated for two seconds between telling the truth and brushing it off.

He hadn’t intended to hide it from Jian Qing anyway. Paper can’t wrap fire; the identity of the skeleton would sooner or later be known to him. It was just… better to finish dinner first.

Keenly，Jian Qing sensed the abnormality and immediately asserted, “It’s related to me.”

“Yes,” since things had come to this point, He Linfeng simply laid everything out in the open. Vegetables absorbed spice more easily than meat, so he picked some and put them into the clear broth, “Tong Tong—you remember her, right?”

Clack.

Jian Qing’s chopsticks stabbed heavily into his bowl.

He even forgot to hide his expression; his face turned slightly paler, and an invisible, heavy wall instantly rose around him. Only the faint red at his lips, stained by the spicy food, remained vivid.

No further questioning was needed—the answer was already obvious.

As if hallucinating, a burst of chaotic overlapping voices rang in Jian Qing’s ears:

【Wow, system, he just tripped while saving me.】

【How many strategy points does that count for?】

……

【Why is he looking at me like that?】

【Oh no, his head is bleeding—but it’s only two or three drops, the protagonist shouldn’t become stupid, right?】

【Maybe I should blow on it for him.】

……

【So pretty… I really want to kiss him. System, do you think someone as proper as Jian Qing would take responsibility for me for life if I stole his first kiss?】

A childlike voice, pure and innocent, yet carrying an incongruous maturity. Crying and stumbling, the girl struggled to help him up, sobbing as she called him “brother.” But her apology and her inner voice overlapped—the former soft and tearful, the latter airy and smiling, mixed with a strange, cold mechanical tone that made his mind buzz violently.

Confusion.

Fear.

For a child still in kindergarten, no matter how clever or mature he might be, everything that had just happened was far too complicated.

He didn’t understand systems, nor protagonists, nor strategy.

The only response was instinct. And instinct told him this must be kept secret.

At least, kept secret from the girl.

His head ached as if splitting open.

The boy with a reddened temple slowly inhaled.

And at the moment his playmate appeared to lose strength and stumble, he steadied himself and did not get pulled down.

【Hiss.】

【That hurts.】

【Romance drama clichés really aren’t reliable.】

【Is this even working, system?】

As he quickly walked toward home, suddenly a new, more familiar and weaker voice broke in:

【When exactly am I getting compensation for being cast into the wrong role?】

One sentence.

Then another.

Countless voices of thought gathered into a dense black vortex, year after year dragging him downward, finally freezing on someone’s hoarse sneer:

【Why hurry? Anyway, their whole family will be dead this winter.】

The young man at the dining table swallowed his throat almost imperceptibly and quickly closed his eyes.

The food that had felt warm and comforting a moment ago seemed to turn into stone, cold and hard as it churned in his stomach, heavy and sinking downward, even his blood seeming to freeze with it.

Jian Qing did not vomit.

Because he had long since learned how to suppress this kind of psychologically induced physical reaction on his own, without medication.

He needed to make He Linfeng leave.

His current condition was simply not suitable to see anyone.

Especially not a perceptive criminal police officer.

“Jian Qing?”

The hallucination symptoms surged violently. It took him a few seconds to separate that voice from the chaotic world, and he stared fixedly at the other person’s mouth as if to confirm it.

The man’s lips were thin and red, a typical roguish appearance—and more importantly, he was truly speaking with them right now.

This blatantly flawed behavior should have been enough to prove his connection with Tong Tong was unusual. Unexpectedly, He Linfeng did not pursue it further. Instead, he walked around the table, crouched down, pried open Jian Qing’s stiff fingers, took away his chopsticks, and placed the filled glass of hot water into his palm.

“Burned your tongue?” Worried that he had no strength, He Linfeng did not withdraw his hand, lightly supporting the bottom of the glass cup. “My fault. I should’ve put the meat into the clear broth too.”

A clumsy but mutually understood lie.

Strangely, the noise lingering around Jian Qing’s ears gradually faded away.

Even if only a little.

The eviction order that had reached his lips abruptly changed direction, and driven by an impulse even he could not understand, Jian Qing asked:

“How did she die?”