Chapter 50

Chapter 50 Chapter 50 Zhu Qiang.

Wang Lai was deeply impressed by He Linfeng’s ability to stabilize his emotions.

Within the span of a single meal, he hadn’t even said that many words in Jian Qing’s defense, yet the man managed to soothe himself on his own.

“Send you home first.” He Linfeng pulled out the seatbelt and fastened it, then opened the navigation. At the very top of the list was clearly Qingshan Road—the place he had gone with that person.

“Send me home first,” Wang Lai, with the tacit understanding of long-time friends, immediately caught the implied meaning. “And then what? Are you planning to camp downstairs at Mr. Jian’s place? Want me to assist you? Fake a wrong message? Or record a video? Or post a Moments update only visible to Mr. Jian?”

He Linfeng smiled faintly. “Moments.”

“You have his WeChat?” Wang Lai said. “And you’re talking about staking out—do you really think I’m here catching fugitives?”

Wang Lai: …

Those five plain words delivered a full ten-thousand-point critical hit.

“I just didn’t ask for it,” Wang Lai’s brain spun rapidly as he counterattacked precisely. “If I call Mr. Jian right now, he’ll definitely pick up.”

The moment before, He Linfeng had the air of a rightful partner: …

“Not laughing anymore, huh? Why are we hurting each other like this? I’m not trying to be your romantic rival,” Wang Lai said, stopping at the right time and becoming serious in an instant. “So where are you actually going?”

He Linfeng: “Archives.”

Wang Lai: ?

“It just feels like there have been too many coincidences lately,” He Linfeng said lazily, leaning against the seat like he had no bones. “Might as well check the so-called ‘true rivals’ who were ruled out.”

Wang Lai looked suspicious.

This guy naturally had the face of a playboy. Unless he completely put on a stern expression, everything he said sounded like a joke—half real, half fake, impossible to read.

But Wang Lai was also certain that, no matter for whom, He Linfeng would never misuse public resources for personal reasons.

So he only hesitated for two seconds before giving up. “Whatever. Captain Yan’s watching anyway—she and Brother Zhou are on duty tonight.”

That said, as the navigation drew closer to his own residential area, Wang Lai became restless again. “We’re almost there. Are you really sure you don’t need me to contact him for you?”

“You’ve been holding it in for a while, haven’t you?” He Linfeng glanced at him amusedly. “Why do you look more anxious than me?”

Wang Lai: “Because I’m eating soft rice.”

Slowly, He Linfeng tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, as if his face was practically writing three words: keep making it up.

“…Fine, fine. I just think you definitely won’t succeed on your own,” Wang Lai said reluctantly, full of frustration at his lack of progress as the car stopped. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t cry alone in your room at midnight and regret it.”

He Linfeng curved his eyes. “Wang Lai.”

“There’s a phrase called ‘retreat to advance,’” he said, looking him over twice as if pondering something. “Do you usually interrogate suspects this… directly?”

His answer was the sound of the car door slamming shut.

“He Linfeng,” Wang Lai’s last trace of sympathy vanished. He walked around to the front of the windshield, bent down, and slowly raised his middle finger. “Serves you right to be single forever.”

Hope Mr. Jian stays away a few more days—let’s see if this guy can still sit still then.

Two hours later.

City A.

Tiny droplets of water slowly slid down the collar and into the silk sleepwear, spreading damp patches. Jian Qing casually picked up the glasses placed on the bedside table, put them on, and while drying his hair he answered the phone: “…Mm. Mm, I know.”

“The air conditioning is on.”

“Don’t blame your aunt for nagging. You were especially delicate as a child—once you left North River City you’d always get sick. There was that time you coughed so badly you had a high fever, and no matter how many injections or medicines you took, nothing worked. It was still your uncle who was smart—he drove you back home overnight. Only after growing up did you become ‘rougher’,” as she mentioned the past, Ning Shuyan’s usually brisk tone softened a little. “Is this business trip urgent?”

Too much time had passed. When speaking of departed loved ones, she no longer hid her emotions as she once did, nor feared touching each other’s wounds.

Rather than relief, it was closer to habit.

“Sort of,” Jian Qing confirmed the curtains were still tightly drawn and turned around, choosing only what could be discussed. “The company is trying to secure an important collaboration. I came to oversee it.”

Ning Shuyan: “What did you promise me last time?”

Jian Qing: “Only staying a few days. I’ll be back soon.” Perhaps because the key plot events in the original story all took place in North River City, whenever this “exclusive stage” lost its protagonist, his resistance would rapidly drop.

Until the protagonist returned to their rightful place.

But Jian Qing hated being controlled like that.

That was why he had started learning boxing—not only to strengthen his body, but also to personally beat down transmigrators.

By now, even if Jian Qing traveled for several consecutive months, at most he would catch a mild cold, easily solved by drinking hot water. He didn’t even need medication.

“How is Xu Hao doing?” Thinking from the other person’s perspective, and worried that the kidnapping experience might leave unseen trauma or psychological shadows, Jian Qing cautiously asked.

Ning Shuyan laughed. “He’s fine—eating well, sleeping well. He’s been saying lately that he wants to become a police officer. No idea how long this enthusiasm will last.”

“Next time you come home, bring Little He along and help give him some advice.”

Jian Qing paused. “Mm.”

“…If there’s time.”

His usual temperament was already rather cold, so Ning Shuyan didn’t suspect anything, nor did she take it as a polite refusal. They chatted a little longer before hanging up.

Bian Shao immediately sent a flood of WeChat messages: “Where are you where are you where are you.”

“My mom made a full table of dishes. Grace us with your presence?”

“Pickup and drop-off included.”

“Emergency rescue.”

“If you’re not here she’s going to nag me to death.”

What followed were all stickers—cats, dogs, rabbits, foxes, all sorts of animals gathered together, their expressions consistent, like predictive text suggestions gone wild, quantity maxed out.

Jian Qing replied honestly: 【On a business trip.】

He always replied to messages uniformly—if one character would do, he never used two. But Bian Shao was like a firecracker, talkative and anxious.

This time was no exception.

“Yeah yeah, I know you don’t like socializing,” Bian Shao said, immediately recording a short video while explaining, the background audio showing he was already at his apartment. “I’m at my place, no one else here.”

Jian Qing: 【Really on a business trip.】

The chat window went quiet for a moment.

Then a new message appeared: 【Because of that police officer?】

Rarely, Bié Shào didn’t send a voice message, the tone unusually serious, as if the moment Jian Qing nodded, he would rush straight to the municipal bureau and beat up Hé Línfēng.

Jian Qing felt somewhat confused.

The one who should be angry was not him, and even less should it be Bié Shào.

“You, a shut-in, what kind of business trip are you going on all of a sudden,” the other side, seemingly annoyed by typing too much, continued via voice-to-text, “Is he causing you trouble again?”

“If you ask me, ever since he was transferred to North River, nothing good has happened to you. Before, at most you had to deal with a few brain-dead suitors. And now? You’re getting dragged into murder cases every few days.”

“Those police officers may sound polite, but in reality they treat you like a potential suspect every time. Otherwise where would those marketing accounts get material to twist things?”

Jian Qing：【I do have suspicion on me.】

Being dragged into murder cases also had nothing to do with Hé Línfēng.

However, this answer, in Bié Shào’s eyes, was undoubtedly defending someone. Failing to unite against a common enemy, Bié Shào, for once, went silent, seemingly furious.

Jian Qing fiddled with his phone for a few minutes, his gaze unconsciously drifting down the chat list.

Today, Hé Línfēng didn’t treat him like a memo again.

Both were adults, and the other party wasn’t bound by any “novel-transmigration system.” One or two straightforward evasions were enough for both sides to understand the implication behind it.

This was the smoothest outcome Jian Qing had anticipated.

But at this moment, this “smoothness” did not seem to make him feel relaxed or happy.

Habitually opening the news channel he usually listened to, Jian Qing waited until his hair was completely dry, then lay down on the bed with his eyes closed.

He didn’t sleep all night.

Covering his face loosely with a piece of clothing to block the sunlight, Hé Línfēng leaned in the passenger seat half-asleep. As soon as the car stopped, he immediately woke up.

“We’re here?”

“We’re here,” Song Xiǎotóng nodded, looking curious. “Those dark circles… did you go out stealing last night?”

Hé Línfēng replied solemnly, “Busier than stealing.”

Just the statements and surveillance related to Jian Qing alone were enough to make him work two extra shifts.

“Then let’s try to finish this quickly,” Song Xiǎotóng lowered the window slightly and looked outside. “This is Zhu Qiang’s place? Subsidized housing—looks like his living standard isn’t very high.”

Hé Línfēng was well-prepared: “Normal. After leaving the Jian family, he couldn’t find any decent job. He put all his money into stocks and ended up losing badly.”

“Single, living alone, and rarely in contact with his parents.”

Song Xiǎotóng quickly wrote down the key points.

They arrived at just the right time, when most residents were out at work or school. The building was very quiet. Hé Línfēng followed the address found in the internal system and knocked on the door; after a while, someone indeed came to open it.

—Zhu Qiang usually survived on odd jobs, and recently happened to be working night shifts as a security guard at a construction site.

Compared to the ID photo from years ago, Zhu Qiang’s demeanor was much more sullen now. His gaze swept over them like a hawk as he rasped, “Who are you?”

“Police,” Hé Línfēng said, handing over his ID card. “We need Mr. Zhu to cooperate with some questioning.”

Leaning out through the half-open door, Zhu Qiang narrowed his eyes and looked closer.

“North River Public Security Bureau.”

“Helínfēng.”

He spoke extremely slowly, as if afraid he might misread the characters. He looked at them several times over before finally stepping aside and letting the two enter.

Though the sparrow is small, it has all its vital organs. Zhu Qiang’s home could not be called tidy, but it also didn’t have any stains or odors. A metal tea can sat on the table, filled with cigarette ash.

Bending down, he pulled out two stacked plastic stools and said, “Sit wherever you like.”

“Thanks,” Hé Línfēng said, turning back to signal Song Xiǎotóng to look around, acting entirely naturally. “Actually, we’re here this time because of the murder case on Qing Mountain Road.”

Zhu Qiang’s motion of taking out his lighter froze.

“Qing Mountain Road?” He instinctively looked at Hé Línfēng. “Qing Mountain Road… what about it?”

Song Xiǎotóng was surprised.

Although the major crimes unit was investigating Tong Tóng, for someone born and raised in North River—who had even worked as a driver for the Jian family—this reaction was very strange.

“Yes, the Jian family, the Jian family,” before she could remind him, Zhu Qiang reacted on his own. Halfway pulling out his lighter, he snapped it open and lit his cigarette.

“It’s been so long I almost forgot.”

“Of course the Jian family.” Pretending not to notice the other party’s abnormal reaction, Hé Línfēng echoed with a gentle, harmless smile.

“Otherwise, what other murder case would Qing Mountain Road have?”