Chapter 47

Chapter 47 Chapter 47 Apology.

Embarrassed, Tong Father’s mouth moved slightly.

He knew he was being extreme, but he could not suppress the suspicion in his heart. The Jian family’s garden was clean and spotless, which instead made him and his wife lose their confidence.

“Forget it,” in the midst of the tense atmosphere, the young man who looked the most difficult to provoke suddenly spoke. He turned sideways and tugged He Linfeng, giving both sides an exit. “You two should leave.”

But the latter did not move.

Standing firmly in the middle of the road, tall and solid, He Linfeng said seriously, “Apologize.”

Having interrogated criminals for years, when he turned cold, he carried an imposing pressure that brooked no argument. Even his pair of flirtatious fox-like eyes seemed frozen over with a thin layer of ice.

“……”

Still biased against Jian Qing, Tong Father remained silent for a few seconds before forcing himself under pressure to argue, “We just wanted to find the murderer who killed Tong Tong as quickly as possible.”

He Linfeng remained unmoved. “If you are dissatisfied with the Major Crimes Unit’s investigation speed, you can file a complaint at the municipal bureau. Now, apologize to Jian Qing.”

“Otherwise, I will handle this as a police matter.”

He could understand the grief and anxiety of Tong Tong’s parents, but at the same time, Jian Qing was also a victim of the 213 mass murder case, and his past suffering was even more severe.

Jian Qing was cold on the outside but warm on the inside. He was willing to be considerate toward the former neighbors out of respect for the deceased, but that did not mean he would stand by and let him be bullied.

“We were momentarily possessed,” Tong Mother said quickly, clearly aware that He Linfeng was not joking, trying to defuse the situation. “Jian Qing, don’t take it to heart. Auntie apologizes to you.”

“These flowers… we’ll find someone to restore them tomorrow.”

Jian Qing shook his head in refusal.

Tong Father’s forehead was deeply furrowed. He was clearly very resistant to his wife’s compromise. Unable to find any leverage against Jian Qing, he could only be dragged away by Tong Mother like a sandbag.

This time, they left through the front gate. At least the fence was no longer damaged with crushed flowers and leaves. He Linfeng deliberately followed behind them and locked the gate, the click echoing sharply in the night. Then he returned, crouched down, and buried the exposed roots back into the soil. “It should still be salvageable.”

Jian Qing had never raised animals or plants.

To be fair, he barely even managed to take care of himself. Even though his mother had liked gardening when she was alive, Jian Qing only hired a housekeeping aunt to maintain it.

He Linfeng, however, was completely different.

He had cats, dogs, and more than a dozen succulents on his balcony. When he said the words “still salvageable,” it sounded especially credible coming from him.

Rolling up his sleeves inch by inch, Jian Qing crouched down beside He Linfeng. “What do we do?”

“Turn on the lights first,” seeing that the other’s brand-new and expensive-looking coat was about to brush the ground, He Linfeng immediately reached out and tugged it. “Is there a light nearby?”

Jian Qing skillfully found the hidden switch in the corner.

Even though he hadn’t come here in a long time, this was still his childhood home.

Probably to match the overall theme of the villa complex, the courtyard was filled with antique-style stone lamps. The light was soft, illuminating a shallow pool of water and a pavilion, dispersing the faint gloom that lingered around the area.

He also fetched the toolbox commonly used by the housekeeping aunt and handed it to He Linfeng.

“You’re being unusually cooperative today?” He Linfeng selected a small shovel with practiced ease and looked up with a smile. “Moved by how I stood up for you just now?”

Jian Qing should have denied it, but his subconscious was faster than him. He gave a light nod. “Barely.”

The man who received confirmation immediately lit up with joy.

“Then tell me about it,” He Linfeng said, looking up at him and complaining, “Tong Tong and her parents. Jian Qing, you’re usually all claws and teeth toward me.”

Today? Even after intruders broke into the home, he still kept yielding step by step.

Jian Qing’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

The reason he could tolerate Tong Tong’s parents’ rudeness—aside from past neighborhood ties and the fact that they had also lost a child—was mainly because: many years ago, the daughter they had truly loved had already been “replaced,” her body taken over by a so-called transmigrator, a monster who had usurped the nest of a magpie.

And all of this had happened because of the protagonist—because of him.

The more Tong Tong’s parents poured their love and effort into their daughter, the more sorrowful Jian Qing felt. That was why, so long as it did not cross his bottom line, he allowed their behavior.

“…They’re still friends of my parents,” suppressing the turbulent thoughts in his mind, Jian Qing casually averted his gaze, evading the core issue.

He Linfeng: “Lies.”

“Tong Tong’s father said you distanced yourself from her because she once fell down,” He Linfeng said gently, always able to seize the key point amid scattered clues. “Did she ever do something to hurt you?”

Jian Qing froze.

Ordinary people hearing such a “childhood incident” would probably think he was petty—a grown man making a fuss over scraped skin during play and breaking off contact over it.

Only He Linfeng would ask whether the other person had hurt him.

His fingertips brushed away the soil pressing against the flowers as Jian Qing lowered his gaze. “She liked me.”

He Linfeng: “Mm.”

He did not question it, nor did he rashly evaluate it. He simply stayed quietly beside Jian Qing, encouraging him with a calm affirmation to continue.

“Have you seen particularly precocious children? She would deliberately roll down the slide, wait for you to rescue her, and then in a panic blow on your wound, eyes teary but her mouth smiling.”

“When the adults arrived, she would act frightened and innocent again.”

“She often secretly slipped out of her parents’ home to come to yours. When you let your guard down, she would create physical contact—like in TV dramas—pressing her mouth against yours.”

“She liked you, but she didn’t like your parents.” She could even watch coldly as they moved step by step toward death, planning for the protagonist to be adopted into her own family.

“She wanted you to be abandoned by everyone, to make herself the only lifeline in your world.” She wanted the protagonist to willingly submit, endlessly providing the ‘strategy value’ needed to exchange for rewards.

He Linfeng raised an eyebrow. “The Orphan?”

“No wonder you hated her.”

Jian Qing tilted his head slightly. “You believe it?”

“The world is vast; there’s nothing strange about it,” He Linfeng said, clapping his hands lightly and shaking off the leaves stuck to his sleeve. “I believe you’re not bored enough to make up a story just to fool me.”

“But there’s one thing—you’re wrong.”

In the dead silence of the night, the faint fragrance of plant sap mixed with the cold air filled the chest. Under the stern winter sky, He Linfeng said seriously, “According to your description, her feelings shouldn’t—and don’t deserve to—be called liking someone.”

Jian Qing: “…So?”

So what did that have to do with whether he hated transmigrators?

“So don’t lump everything together and write them off, okay?” He Linfeng sighed somewhat helplessly. “I thought you should know what normal liking looks like.”

The topic suddenly shifted. Jian Qing was briefly stunned.

Through the cold lens of his glasses, he saw himself reflected in He Linfeng’s eyes—complete, small, unguarded, and not resisting as much as he had imagined.

The soil between his fingers suddenly felt more real. Jian Qing dropped the shovel, stood up as if nothing had happened, and walked toward the house. “Dirty.”

“Go wash your hands.”

“Hey! Jian Qing? Jian Qing!”

Left behind along with the flowers, He Linfeng laughed, his voice getting louder with each call:

“I didn’t even name anyone specifically—why are you running?”