Chapter 45

Chapter 45 Chapter 45 No Criminal Tendency.

“Trauma behind the skull.”

Unexpectedly, Jian Qing was actually willing to speak to himself. He Linfeng answered half a beat late, but with enough honesty.

The other party was acting completely out of character, keeping a long, focused gaze on him—especially on his mouth—giving the impression that he was being interrogated.

For He Linfeng, this was undoubtedly a novel experience.

“An accident cannot be ruled out,” seeing the young man’s extremely poor complexion, he tried to comfort him, “the team is still investigating.”

The former immediately denied it without thinking: “An accident? Then who buried her in the suburban warehouse?”

Without a doubt, it was a transmigrator.

Only a transmigrator could foresee things in advance, placing the corpse early in a location that both the “main character” and the police would inevitably discover, while also erasing their own traces in passing.

But what was their goal?

Tong Tong’s death could not be pinned on him no matter what.

His brain, in a pathological manner, remembered every word of the transmigrator. Jian Qing was absolutely certain that Tong Tong’s targeted strategy role was childhood sweetheart, with a long strategy period before the age of eighteen.

Minors are forbidden from early romance—at least forbidden from forming explicit relationships.

The overly strict hidden rules of online novel censorship, instead became early transmigrators’ protective talisman. No matter how he reacted, even if affection dropped to zero, it would not trigger the system’s “elimination of the main character” ultimate challenge, nor would it allow the transmigrator to unlink and die from various so-called “bad luck” incidents like car crashes, drowning, or sudden cardiac arrest.

“She went missing at that time,” another case related to himself surfaced. Jian Qing instinctively explained, “The police came to Qingshan Road to ask questions.”

Because he knew that under that skin lived two “monsters” full of nonsense, his younger self did not worry about his former playmate, and instead suspected that Tong Tong had run away on her own.

In the eyes of others, this was probably the beginning of cold-bloodedness.

Originally, the Jian family and Tong family were very close neighbors and often visited each other. Later, however, they became increasingly distant, and after the massacre case, they never saw each other again.

The timing of the reduced contact was too precise. This subtle connection would eventually be discovered by the police anyway, so it was better for him to explain it first.

He Linfeng leaned his head back helplessly: “Jian Qing.”

“I don’t treat you as a suspect.”

“This is your home,” his gaze swept toward the hot pot bubbling and steaming, and he emphasized, “not an interrogation room at the municipal bureau.”

The hallucination symptoms fluctuated in intensity, his final tone slightly drifting. Jian Qing blinked very lightly.

“Why?”

Since they had already found out the skeleton was Tong Tong, they had likely already met Tong Tong’s parents. In their mouths, he definitely could not have been seen in a good light.

“Objectively speaking, there are many reasons,” He Linfeng pretended to think, raising his fingers one by one, “for example, your age at the time of the case, the statements left by your parents, the forensic soil analysis, including the investigation records of Qingshan Road No. 6 during the police search for case 213… and so on, and so on.”

“But, in all honesty, there is actually only one reason.”

Lowering all the raised fingers, He Linfeng loosely enclosed Jian Qing within his gesture and smiled.

“I believe you.”

“It’s that simple.”

Jian Qing stared fixedly into the man’s eyes.

Reason told him that, as a police officer, being blinded by personal feelings and blindly placing trust would amount to dereliction of duty; yet emotionally, he felt a faint, secret surge of joy.

He was also human.

It would also become tiring to be doubted.

But in the end, rationality still pressed down on emotion as always, turning into a cold and disappointing reminder: “You’re a police officer.” You should treat everything with equal suspicion.

“What’s wrong with being a police officer?” He Linfeng raised an eyebrow. “Although I’m very grateful for Mr. Jian’s admiration of me, you should occasionally take off your occupational filter.”

Jian Qing: …nonsense.

Who would admire a flamboyant peacock that was constantly showing off.

“You don’t feel it?” Reading the young man’s clearly disapproving expression, He Linfeng immediately accused him, “You’re very biased toward me.”

“For example, Old Zhou—if you and his wife were swapped today, and he said he believed Xin Lan, you’d definitely understand him. You wouldn’t just pour cold water on him.”

Jian Qing slightly pressed his lips together.

He admitted that He Linfeng’s example made sense.

But: “Zhou Shan and Xin Lan are married. You and I can barely count as friends. They shouldn’t be compared equally in the first place.”

“Got it. Mr. Jian is encouraging me to keep working harder,” He Linfeng precisely stepped on the edge of the young man’s irritation and quickly retreated before getting hit, smiling as he leaned against the table. “Feeling better now?”

Jian Qing really wanted to say no.

But the heavy, cold stagnation in his stomach had indeed dissipated. The warmth of the hot water flowed from his fingertips into his limbs, his blood circulation resumed, and the buzzing in his ears gradually faded.

“Any suspects?” Giving up on arguing about trust, he picked up his chopsticks and took a few overcooked vegetables.

He Linfeng casually picked up a strawberry and put it in his mouth. “No discoveries for now.”

“According to the forensic team’s analysis, Tong Tong’s bones were moved. They were only relocated to the suburban warehouse within the past two years. They’re currently calculating the original burial site.”

“The team is also investigating road surveillance near the suburban warehouse, but hopes are slim.”

Normally, road surveillance uploaded to the cloud is only stored for about three months. Once that period is exceeded, even if a suspect was recorded before, it gets overwritten by new data.

Jian Qing was a frequent visitor to the police bureau, so he naturally understood these complicated issues.

He carefully recalled all the transmigrators he had encountered in the past two years, and none of them matched the conditions. Moreover, none had ever mentioned Tong Tong without reason.

“I’ve considered one possibility.” He Linfeng naturally pulled over a chair and sat beside Jian Qing, carefully choosing his words. Before he could even ask, the other tilted his head toward him: “Speak.”

“For the 213 mass murder case, the killer was clearly not acting in a crime of passion. In addition, the villa area had special conditions. The killer was able to infiltrate and escape smoothly, so they might have scouted Qingshan Road No. 6 beforehand.”

And in the same year, the strangely “missing” Tong Tong just happened to live at Qingshan Road No. 5.

Jian Qing froze.

Tong Tong was a transmigrator. Transmigrators know the plot and, from an all-seeing perspective, would never let themselves fall into dangers clearly written in the original story—so he had completely ignored the possibility that she might have been implicated because of the Jian family.

But Tong Tong had only been six years old at the time.

Even if there was a mature soul inside that body, encountering a desperate murderer preparing to commit a mass slaughter still carried a very high chance of being harmed.

What if…

His heart began to beat faster uncontrollably. Jian Qing said actively: “I’ll help.”

After the family members passed away, Qingshan Road gradually became deserted. Those who moved left, those who sold their homes sold them. Among the old residents who could provide clues—besides Tong Tong’s parents—the remaining one was probably him.

He Linfeng frowned.

Human memory automatically blurs painful recollections. The timing of the two cases had been too close together; he had originally thought Jian Qing would avoid it, but now it seemed that regarding the tragedy from twenty-two years ago, the other party had truly not forgotten it for even a moment.

He suddenly recalled something from Captain Yan’s team—an assessment report mentioned in order to prove that Jian Qing was “clean”:

No criminal tendency.

However, putting aside the parts that would affect society, those so-called experts—had they ever paid attention to what Jian Qing’s psychological state actually was?

As if guessing his confusion, Jian Qing suddenly said, “I’ve been receiving treatment all along.”

He Linfeng: even stranger.

He did not believe the young man, who was used to building high walls around himself, would suddenly be so frank with him, but he still followed up: “How’s the effect?”

“Average. I feel a bit better after taking the medicine,” Jian Qing said half-truthfully as he rinsed meat in the hotpot, “so there’s no need to deliberately avoid it. I’m planning to go back to Qingshan Road tomorrow.”

“Are you coming with me?”

When one is inside the situation, it is easy to lose perspective. Knowing about transmigrators and systems had ultimately affected him in subtle ways; with He Linfeng’s help, perhaps they could find a new direction.

The man who was invited naturally agreed without hesitation.

After doing the cooking duties and cleaning up everything, He Linfeng hummed a tune while carrying two bags of trash downstairs and drove out of the residential complex.

3 a.m.

Still unable to fall asleep, Jian Qing turned over and got out of bed, opened the wardrobe, and reached his arm toward the deepest drawer.

One second.

Two seconds.

The medication used to relieve hallucinations and insomnia was right there—boxes neatly stacked. No matter how severe the symptoms were, after taking them, all worries could be wiped away.

Yet Jian Qing hesitated for a long time.

Memory loss was the aftereffect he resisted the most. The whispering of transmigrators and systems caused him pain, yet it also brought clues that only he himself understood.

One pill should be fine.

In the darkness, a voice urged him so.

But another voice followed: really? Your luck has always been terrible.

【The protagonist got into Jiang University.】

【The protagonist helped the Jian family rise again.】

【The protagonist has PTSD.】

The choice he was about to make—was it also a plot already written by the author?

Agitated and restless.

In the darkness, Jian Qing turned back, took his phone from beside the pillow, and curled his legs up as he sat against the wardrobe.

He intended to call Bian Shao.

The other party was a night owl, becoming more active the later it got. In the past, at times like this, Jian Qing would often go to Bian Shao’s shop to sit for a while, using deafening music as a form of counter-hallucination.

Just then, his gaze unconsciously swept over the red dot at the very top indicating an unread message.

It was a message sent by He Linfeng five hours earlier:

【I’m home. Good night.】

Short but effective. Even without opening it, the entire message could be seen at a glance. The faint white glow reflected on his face as Jian Qing stared at those words for a while, and then, almost as if possessed, he replied.

【Oh.】

【Good night.】

Three characters split into two lines, as if he had decided to deliberately wake the other person up. As a working criminal police officer, his phone would never be on silent at any time.

Only after reacting did he realize his subtle act of dependence and seeking comfort. Jian Qing long-pressed the chat bubble; just as the “recall” option popped up, a new message vibrated in his palm.

【Can’t sleep?】

Jian Qing silently closed the chat window.

He suspected he was being driven crazy by auditory hallucinations, which was why he contacted He Linfeng at this hour. Before his finger could tap on Bian Shao, the former’s call came in first.

Buzz—

Buzz buzz—

In an instant, the atmosphere turned fully horror-movie-like. Jian Qing paused briefly, then answered the call.

“Is Consultant He also not asleep?” He deliberately used the other party’s job title, his tone steady. “I was just about to go to Bian Shao’s place; I can give you a ride on the way.”

The voice on the other end was hoarse: “No.”

Jian Qing remained calm: as expected.

Tomorrow was a workday—drinking in the middle of the night violated regulations.

“Stay put too,” the man said, still not hanging up despite his heavy sleepiness. Along with the sound of a door opening and closing and two soft cat meows, he let out a faint yawn. “You planning to wake someone up and then run off?”

“First lull me to sleep.”