Chapter 46

Chapter 46 Chapter 46 So it turns out Mr. Jian lives in a scenic area…

Having the weaker moral ground to begin with, Jian Qing stared at his phone for two seconds in hesitation, deciding to temporarily tolerate the other person’s nonsense.

Perhaps because his attention had been diverted, his brain no longer obsessively replayed the transmigrator’s past thoughts on loop, greatly easing Jian Qing’s headache.

After pouring himself a glass of water and gulping it down, He Linfeng on the other end busied himself for a few minutes, then suddenly laughed. “I thought you would hang up.”

Jian Qing: “Mm.”

These past few days, heating in Bei River had just been turned on, but the temperature had not yet fully stabilized. The wooden floor was slightly cold. The warmth in his loungewear had already dissipated, and only now did he belatedly feel the chill. He closed the wardrobe and lay back into the blanket.

He Linfeng sharply caught that sound.

“Really planning to go out?” Even though he had never seen the layout of Jian Qing’s bedroom, he still made an accurate guess, half sincerely, half teasingly jealous. “And you even picked out clothes.”

Jian Qing: “Mm.”

The matter of secretly hiding medication only needed him to know.

“‘Mm mm’ what ‘mm mm’,” He Linfeng said lightly as he put the cup back in place, muttering, “I suspect you’re brushing me off. You’re exactly the same as when you’re doing bad things with Mimi.”

The black cat whose name had been called immediately jumped over and meowed obediently, as if acting spoiled.

Having accidentally hit the truth, Jian Qing adhered to the principle that the more he spoke, the more mistakes he would make, and decisively used silence in place of rebuttal.

But only a few minutes later, he broke his own silence: “…Late at night and you’re not sleeping, what are you pacing around for?”

It was too quiet around him. Through the phone line, he could clearly hear every rustle of He Linfeng’s movements. Rather than noisy, it was more like the white noise he had occasionally come across online.

The man being questioned immediately put on an emotional expression: “What? Worried I’ll be late for work tomorrow?”

Jian Qing said calmly, “Worried you’re disturbing the neighbors.”

“Relax. The house in the West District is a bit old, but the materials are solid and the soundproofing is top-notch. Otherwise it wouldn’t survive Mimi parkouring every day.”

He casually turned on the bedside night lamp and leaned against the pillow. “Now that you’re awake anyway, might as well find something to do. I still have a few books I haven’t finished. Want me to tell Mr. Jian a bedtime story?”

Jian Qing was momentarily confused.

He found it hard to imagine He Linfeng having such an immature hobby as reading bedtime fairy tales.

“It’s adult stories,” He Linfeng explained as if reading his mind. “Trace Evidence Examination Manual, Theory and Techniques of Criminal Investigation. Which one do you like?”

Before Jian Qing could refuse, he casually opened one book. “I’ll read a couple of pages for a trial listening.”

……

In the pitch-black night, the deliberately lowered voice was gentle and magnetic. With the phone resting by his pillow, Jian Qing stared at the ceiling. He originally wanted to find an appropriate opening to end this absurd late-night conversation, but in the end, the scholarly formal language lulled him into sleepiness. His consciousness drifted, and his eyelashes slowly drooped.

When he woke again, it was already 7:30 in the morning.

After turning off the alarm, he realized that the call with He Linfeng had never actually ended. Jian Qing froze completely, momentarily at a loss.

Fortunately, the phone battery in the upper right corner had already turned red and died. Two minutes later, under the owner’s death-stare, the phone sensibly shut off and obediently became nothing more than a dead piece of metal.

On the other side of the city, He Linfeng, wearing earphones, mumbled groggily, “Mm?”

His chest, not covered by pajamas, was repeatedly stepped on by Mimi’s soft paw pads. As he absentmindedly stroked the cat’s warm, smooth fur, He Linfeng finally came to his senses and realized what the notification sound had been.

“You little heartless thing.” One hand covered his eyes, the other forcefully rubbed Mimi’s head. Whether he was talking about a person or the cat, he let out a soft chuckle.

Running cannot outrun the temple.

So last night you were the one who actively “set up a date,” and today you already want to renege?

After washing up, changing clothes, and topping up Mimi’s food bowl and water, He Linfeng picked up his keys and phone and prepared to head out. Suddenly, he noticed a new message on WeChat—

Jian Qing: 【Thank you.】

He Linfeng immediately became happy.

“It looks like I’m still somewhat special,” he said, crouching down and holding the chat interface toward Mimi as if seeking validation, gently stroking the black cat. “Right?”

A private invitation naturally had to be fulfilled in private time.

Coincidentally, the bureau got off work on time, so He Linfeng simply drove to the area near Jian Qing’s company, and while waiting for him, bought two hot drinks.

In Beijiang in November, there was already a hint of early winter atmosphere. Jian Qing had changed into a pure black wool coat—soft and neatly pressed—making him look even taller and longer-limbed. From a distance, he looked so good it was as if he were shooting a magazine cover.

The passenger door opened and closed. He Linfeng couldn’t resist teasing: “Big star.”

He received a confused glance from Jian Qing in return.

“You even parked by the roadside,” he gestured for the other to fasten his seatbelt and handed him a paper cup, speaking in a teasing tone. “Feels like a secret couple hiding from paparazzi.”

Already becoming used to this man’s nonsense, Jian Qing calmly countered: “It’s because you stand out too much.”

Recently the other had been busy and hadn’t shown up much. The gossip in the company about Jian Qing’s private life had just settled down, and he temporarily did not intend to let it reignite.

He Linfeng immediately pretended to check himself in the rearview mirror. “Then should I wear a mask next time?”

He clearly had great confidence in his appearance, but precisely because it was justified, it was hard to find him annoying. Jian Qing’s gaze unconsciously drifted over the man’s profile for a moment, then he snapped back and entered an address into the navigation.

The straw pierced the sealed film with a pop. He leaned back into the seat and took a very cooperative sip, tasting unexpected sweetness on his tongue.

“Hot chocolate,” He Linfeng explained when he saw no rejection. “Drinking tea at night can cause insomnia.”

Jian Qing thought of last night’s call that had never been hung up.

He assumed this person would use it to tease him again, or ask about the case, but He Linfeng stopped at that and said nothing further, seeming only to be genuinely concerned.

Beijiang’s rush hour traffic was heavily congested, but fortunately, the closer they drove toward Qingshan Road, the quieter it became. It fit the atmosphere of an urban legend haunted house perfectly—dim streetlights faintly illuminating the villa complex crouching in the corners, like ghostly shadows lurking in the night.

At this point, He Linfeng finally understood what the string of exclamation marks in the group chat from Wang Lai during field duty meant.

After obediently parking and waiting for the gatekeeper to allow entry, he was surprised: “So it turns out Mr. Jian lives in a scenic area.”

The Chinese-style garden design, with mountains, water, and buildings arranged in layered harmony, was far beyond those hastily built “luxury residences” that simply fenced off land and planted some greenery in recent years. Jian Qing usually kept a low profile and often worked late like him, which made He Linfeng almost forget that the other had a face that frequently appeared in financial news reports.

After the death of his family members, Jian Qing rarely came here anymore. The security guard responsible for registration had originally been half-asleep, but upon hearing He Linfeng mention the surname, he immediately looked up and glanced over twice.

—Much like the retro and out-of-place Yue Du Department Store in the West District, only those who worked inside knew who the real owner behind it was.

Otherwise, how could this place have remained unchanged for decades?

Thinking of the tragedy that once happened on Qingshan Road, the guard’s professional smile stiffened awkwardly, and he silently switched to a more serious and formal expression.

After being let through, He Linfeng raised an eyebrow and commented: “Tsk, skipping work only to run into a boss inspection.”

“Not really a boss. Someone was eager to sell it, and I just happened to have some spare money,” Jian Qing said, glancing out the window. “It’s not that big of a place anyway.”

Back then, Qingshan Road followed a boutique development route, located even farther from the city center. Even if there had once been plans for expansion, they were completely erased along with the unresolved mass murder case.

“People who do business tend to believe in feng shui,” Jian Qing said almost self-mockingly, the corner of his lips lifting ever so slightly. “A murder house is much cheaper than you’d imagine.”

He Linfeng tapped the steering wheel. “There’s such a good deal?”

“Then I’ll try to save up and buy one.”

Having heard too many comments like “jinx star” and similar labels, and finding that the other person always gave unexpectedly different answers, Jian Qing fell silent for a moment. The heaviness in his chest quietly dispersed, and after a while he responded, “Suit yourself.”

“Actually, Mr. Jian’s apartment is pretty good too. I could rent the place across from you…” The navigation’s destination was already close. He Linfeng suddenly switched off the headlights. “Wait, it looks like there’s someone inside?”

At dusk, the Chinese-style villa that should have been abandoned for a long time was faintly lit from within.

Adjusting his glasses carefully to see more clearly, Jian Qing frowned and unbuckled his seatbelt.

He did hire a housekeeping aunt, who came once a week to maintain the old residence, but her working hours were in the morning—she would not stay until this time.

“Let’s take a look,” He Linfeng said, turning off the engine and getting out of the car without hesitation. He reached out and stopped Jian Qing. “Shh.”

“You walk behind me.”

Considering the overall aesthetic, the old Jian family residence had mostly evergreen plants in the courtyard. Even in early winter, they grew lush and dense, almost covering half the fence, naturally separating the inside from the outside.

As they got closer, He Linfeng heard a faint metallic clanging sound—intermittent, irregular, mixed with heavy breathing.

Quietly parting the dense layers of leaves, he cautiously peeked inside. His expression darkened in surprise.

The reason was simple: inside were Tong Tong’s parents.

In near-zero temperatures, the couple were sweating profusely as they swung shovels with great effort. Flowers and plants that had been carefully maintained for years were dug up, their roots broken and twisted, falling messily at their feet and mixing with the soil.

“What is it?” Seeing the man at the front not moving, Jian Qing leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice as he approached He Linfeng’s ear.

In the next second, a warm palm covered his eyes in a loose gesture.

Jian Qing’s apartment was bare, and even his office didn’t have a single cactus for air purification. He Linfeng thought—these plants were probably left behind by his mother.

And now they were being completely destroyed by the Tong family couple.

“…He Linfeng?” Trusting that the other would not harm him, Jian Qing obediently stopped walking and asked in confusion, his eyelashes instinctively blinking behind the lenses.

Before he got an answer, a wary voice came from inside the villa first: “Who’s there?”

A somewhat familiar tone.

Jian Qing quickly retrieved the corresponding memory, forcefully pulled He Linfeng’s hand away, and understood everything.

“Uncle Tong,” having faced similar situations too many times, he showed no emotional fluctuation and even had the leisure to tug He Linfeng toward the front door. “Long time no see.”

The woman standing behind her husband instinctively hid the shovel behind her back.

“Breaking and entering,” He Linfeng said lazily while taking photos of the chaotic scene as evidence, his smile not reaching his eyes. “The two of you are breaking the law knowingly—treating the Major Crimes Unit’s warnings like a joke.”