Chapter 48

Chapter 48 Chapter 48 Thank you for believing me.

It had been a long time since he last returned to the old residence, yet Jian Qing did not feel unfamiliar.

Countless repeated dreams had made him extremely familiar with the villa’s structure. After changing into slippers, he turned right after entering and quickly found the first-floor bathroom.

The cleaning aunt was very diligent; every corner had been tidied spotless. But because the villa had been unoccupied for years, it inevitably carried a sense of old, cold emptiness.

Turning on the tap, Jian Qing carefully washed between his fingers, and while doing so, replied to several emails. It was quite a while later before he noticed He Linfeng approaching.

“I’ve replanted all the flowers. Tomorrow you should find a professional to take another look,” the man said obediently, standing at the doorway with his two dirty hands hanging in the air. He glanced down at the pair of lonely new slippers placed on the floor, clearly just taken out, and smiled. “So considerate? I like it.”

Jian Qing withdrew his gaze and calmly leaned against the wall while typing.

—Just like He Linfeng said before, the other party hadn’t even named anyone specifically. It was him who walked away that made things seem strange.

But Jian Qing clearly underestimated the fox’s cunning. After at most two seconds of silence, footsteps approached again, and the man leaned his head in front of him.

Jian Qing looked up: ?

“Give me a tour?” He Linfeng’s expression was sincere and innocent as he begged, “Your house is so big.”

Jian Qing: …

Given this person’s personality, whether in public or private, it was impossible that he hadn’t investigated the Qingshan Road case files. How could a small villa layout possibly be harder than the street map of Beijiang?

But he did feel somewhat resistant to being alone in the living room where a murder had once occurred.

Just like the sofa sitting there empty—clean and soft—yet Jian Qing did not sit on it.

Gently pushing away the man blocking his way, he turned around. “Follow me.”

He Linfeng complied easily.

Of course he had looked into the Qingshan Road case files. Even though most traces had already been cleaned up, he still remembered the bizarre death scenes of the four victims in the photos.

“Any findings?” remembering why they had come to the old residence, He Linfeng asked.

Jian Qing shook his head.

Before Tong Tong disappeared, he and her barely had any interaction. He spent his days worrying about the approaching winter, staying awake night after night.

Being physically present in the place made more details surface in Jian Qing’s mind, but very few were related to Tong Tong—or rather, everything concerning the transmigrator had already been repeatedly examined countless times because of his troubling hallucinations and auditory delusions, leaving almost no gaps.

He Linfeng was not disappointed either.

From Tong Tong’s parents’ reaction earlier, Tong Tong’s disappearance likely had nothing to do with the Jian family. Otherwise, those two would not have waited twenty years before coming to dig up a neighbor’s garden, only to be scared off by a few words. It was simply that, upon suddenly learning of their daughter’s death, their emotions collapsed and they needed a “imagined enemy” to vent their grief onto.

However, just as He Linfeng hung up the towel and was preparing to find a place to have dinner with Jian Qing, he looked up and saw the latter staring at him through the mirror.

Jian Qing’s skin was pale, his pupils as black as ink. Coupled with the fact that the villa lights were off, the scene looked like something straight out of a horror film—a vengeful spirit behind him. Only He Linfeng was bold enough, still in the mood to joke, dramatically brushing back his fringe in front of the mirror:

“Handsome, right?”

He could sense that Jian Qing seemed to be struggling with something very important. The other’s lips were unconsciously pressed together, only relaxing slightly after hearing his words.

“He Linfeng,” unusually not retorting his narcissism, the young man in the moonlight stared straight at him through the mirror. “Did you investigate Zhu Qiang?”

Zhu Qiang.

The name was too ordinary, so He Linfeng did not immediately recall it. Yet it felt vaguely familiar. After thinking for a moment, he finally dug out its origin from his memory.

So he asked back: “The Jian family’s driver?”

The employer had been dismissed half a year before the murder. Considering that minor financial dispute, he had been included in the police investigation in the early stages, leaving only a few short lines in the statement.

Jian Qing nodded. “Mm.”

“We’re talking about Tong Tong’s case, right?” He Linfeng turned around and said. He believed Jian Qing would not joke randomly, but he needed an explanation.

Jian Qing: “Yes.”

“The statement says Zhu Qiang was 35 at the time,” seeing that the CEO was stingy with words, He Linfeng could only follow the thread himself, “normally speaking, it’s hard for an unfamiliar adult man to have any interaction with his employer’s neighbor’s daughter.” Otherwise Tong Tong’s parents would have definitely mentioned this name.

Scenes from past cases flashed through his mind like flowing water. He Linfeng suddenly lowered his voice and carefully tested: “…Was he a pedophile?”

Jian Qing was stunned.

At the same time, something in his chest softened with a faint ache. He could see that He Linfeng was worried about him, deliberately restraining his gentleness and sharpness, afraid of touching a possible wound.

“No choice,” He Linfeng continued after realizing he had guessed wrong, surrendering without the slightest disappointment. “Zhu Qiang said in his statement that you were the one who insisted on driving him away. I can’t think of any other reason.” Then, almost coquettishly, he bumped Jian Qing’s shoulder and asked in a somewhat literary tone for guidance: “Please enlighten me, Mr. Jian.”

Jian Qing did not hesitate. “They often gathered together and talked.”

“Talked?” He Linfeng was surprised. “About what?” A man in his thirties and a five- or six-year-old girl, unrelated by blood—could it be an age-gap friendship?

Jian Qing lowered his eyes. “Too far away. I’m not sure.”

That was actually a lie.

Thanks to the “mind-reading ability” that appeared after he hit his head, even though the two transmigrators who secretly met had carefully avoided everyone, they could not avoid him.

Inside the body lived foreign souls. Although “Tong Tong” looked young, her intelligence was higher than “Zhu Qiang’s.” Even before Jian Qing “woke up from the fall,” she had already, using her earlier transmigration advantage, noticed Zhu Qiang’s flaws, “recognized kinship,” and secretly formed a partnership with him.

Because the missions of the two did not conflict.

The system had malfunctioned, mistakenly turning the “housekeeper’s son” into a “driver uncle.” The age gap was too large, making the strategy difficulty skyrocket. That was why Zhu Qiang constantly complained in his mind about needing compensation, and through constant persuasion, had long ago changed his main goal to “witnessing the ending.” It could be considered fulfilling the original novel fans’ obsession with its unfinished conclusion.

Tong Tong was able to slip into the Jian family multiple times without adults noticing, largely thanks to Zhu Qiang’s help.

Jian Qing was too young at the time to understand or express things properly. He could only act like a spoiled young master, throwing tantrums and driving away the most honest “driver uncle” from the past.

It was also on the day Zhu Qiang was dismissed that he heard that conversation, which could be called cruel.

His parents were soft-hearted and nostalgic. Not only did they give him full wages, they even gave him the car as compensation. The sun was setting in the west, hanging red in the sky. Zhu Qiang held a cigarette in his hand and took a hard drag.

Across from him was Qingshan Road No. 5.

The girl’s parents were attending a gathering that night and had already left home. At that moment, only a lazy maid remained in the villa—but his ally did not come out to meet him.

The system voice snorted coldly in irritation: 【Idiot.】

【Maybe she was the one who tipped off the protagonist.】

On the second day after transmigrating, he had already exposed himself in front of a fellow transmigrator—truly a complete fool.

How long would it take to replenish his lost energy?

【What’s the rush?】 With a wave of his hand, casually flicking the cigarette butt to the ground, “Zhu Qiang” spat out a ring of smoke viciously. He ground the ember out with his toe. 【Anyway, their whole family will be dead this winter.】

【With or without me, it makes no difference.】

【Worst case, I’ll go wait near Ning Shuyan’s school in advance.】

…

What happened afterward was somewhat vague in Jian Qing’s memory. He only remembered standing blankly by the window for a long time, until the figure of “Zhu Qiang” completely disappeared. Only then did he jump down from the chair with a thud, drag his numb legs, and hurriedly go to flip through the calendar, insistently dragging his parents to get medical checkups.

The result was, naturally, nothing.

In the days that followed, Jian Qing gradually learned from books and television dramas what “criminal investigation” meant and what a “murderer” was. He could not sleep properly at night, often getting up in the middle of the night to repeatedly check the door locks.

But winter was simply too long.

With insomnia and overthinking, he grew more and more haggard day by day. Even when he forced himself to stay composed, he could not hide it from his loving parents, who took him to the hospital and got him medication.

But Jian Qing did not take it.

He would put the medicine into his mouth in front of his parents, and then secretly spit it out behind their backs.

His own cleverness backfired. The long-accumulated exhaustion exceeded its limit, which was why, on New Year’s Eve, after drinking his grandmother’s lily and red date calming soup, he fell into a deep, hard-to-wake sleep.

When he regained consciousness, regret had already become final.

Previously, Jian Qing had not mentioned Zhu Qiang to the police because he considered that the man had ultimately fallen out with Tong Tong and would likely not have been able to trick her into leaving alone.

Moreover, with time having passed, why would he draw police suspicion onto himself because of a transmigrator?

Yet it just so happened that the person accompanying him back to the old residence was He Linfeng.

As chaotic thoughts drifted through his mind, in reality only a few seconds had passed. The moment they walked out of the bathroom, the man patted his shoulder. “If you don’t know, then you don’t know. Why are you hanging your head like that?”

Afraid the other would not take his reminder seriously, Jian Qing emphasized, “In any case, this is the only lead I can think of.”

When they left the old residence, “Zhu Qiang” had been shouting about tracking his aunt and lying in wait. But when he was actually adopted by that aunt, the man had already vanished—disappearing completely for twenty-two years.

Jian Qing had originally thought Zhu Qiang was planning to hide in the shadows and reap the benefits, quietly waiting for the ending to arrive. But the resurfacing of Tong Tong’s body once again subtly triggered his sensitive nerves.

“I know,” noticing that the other was still keeping a serious face, He Linfeng laughed softly and seriously tapped Jian Qing’s glasses frame. “Which sentence of Mr. Jian’s have I ever not taken seriously?”

His movement was too intimate, the distance too close, and he was touching the very center of the glasses frame—essentially equivalent to tapping the bridge of Jian Qing’s nose.

Yet Jian Qing had nowhere to retreat.

—Just now, in his haste to make way for the other, he had slightly shifted his body, and his back had happened to press against the doorframe.

Objectively speaking, He Linfeng indeed had a good face—especially those fox-like eyes. When they lowered in focus, they seemed filled with a shimmering spring light, as if one could drown within them.

Their eyes met.

Someone lowered their head first, half-obscuring the silver-white moonlight.

Jian Qing instinctively turned his face away.

But the warm breath that had paused for a second did not land where he expected. Instead, it brushed lightly and ticklishly past the hair near his ear.

“Jian Qing.”

“Thank you for believing me.”

Everyone has secrets, He Linfeng thought. He was willing not to pursue them.

Until the day Jian Qing was willing to say them to him himself—like today.