Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Mountain Blaze (29)

By the afternoon, there were hardly any people left at the cemetery. April’s spring light spread like water over the cold tombstones, and the tender buds on the trees and the grass by the paths were full of life.

After the car entered Qiyun City, Hai Shu noticed that Xie Jingyu wasn’t talking much. She had no time to think about his mindset; to her, this city felt like a heavy cloud, shaping itself into a giant hand that clamped around her neck, making her reluctant to speak.

At the cemetery parking lot, Xie Jingyu took a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine from the back seat. Hai Shu stood by the car, and when he turned and saw her, he hesitated for a moment, slightly uncertain, and extended the flowers forward. “Want… you to hold this?”

Hai Shu took them. “Mm.”

They walked along several winding upward paths. Xie Jingyu pointed forward with his chin. “He’s right there.”

The tombstones all looked the same, standing solemnly and silently in this verdant world, but Hai Shu suddenly felt her heart racing. Childhood memories and obsessions seemed to have taken corporeal form, pressing to burst out of her body.

Xie Jingyu looked back. “You okay?”

Hai Shu snapped back to reality, lightly pressing her lips together, and looked at the tombstone. “I’m fine.”

Xie Jingyu nodded, bent down, and placed the wine in front of the tombstone. “Old man, I brought a guest today,” he said, waving to Hai Shu.

Hai Shu’s gaze finally met the person in the photo. The photo had yellowed; in a few years, it would probably need replacing, but time had not altered her memory. The Xie Xiaolong in the photo was still how she remembered him—young, handsome, a bit roguish in his smile, but with a gentle gaze.

Hai Shu felt a pang in her nose and lightly pushed Xie Jingyu. “Why do you call him the old man?”

“Tch,” Xie Jingyu said, smiling at the photo. “Look, I came to stand up for you right away. Tell me, if he were alive today, wouldn’t he be an old coot?”

The word “alive” sometimes implied its opposite.

Hai Shu closed her eyes for a moment and asked Xie Jingyu, “Do I just let this go?”

Xie Jingyu glanced at the flowers in her arms. “What rules are there for placing flowers?”

Hai Shu said, “In your father-and-son world, I guess there aren’t many rules.” She squatted by the grave, her expression gentle, no longer the eight-year-old girl she once was. She carefully placed the flowers beneath Xie Xiaolong’s photo and let her fingers trace the engraved words on the tombstone.

“Uncle Xiaolong, do you still remember me? I’m Hai Shu. You always gave me an extra scoop of milk.”

Xie Jingyu silently stepped back, watching Hai Shu. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of joy and nostalgia as she spoke to the person who would no longer answer.

“I loved hearing the bell ring at your door. As soon as it rang, I’d grab my bowl and run. My aunt always laughed at me, saying I should have this kind of energy for studying. Those little colored lights on your car? I hung them there. I thought you’d take them down, but you went along with it. Every time you delivered milk, they were lit… Uncle Xiaolong, I’m a police officer now, a criminal investigator. I just reunited with Xiao Yu this year, and he’s still pretending not to know me…”

Xie Jingyu cleared his throat. “Why are you still tattling?”

Hai Shu propped herself up on her knees, her legs tingling and weak, taking a wobbly step. Xie Jingyu immediately reached out to steady her. Once she was balanced, he let go. They shared a brief glance. Xie Jingyu picked up the wine from the tombstone, opened it, and poured it over the stone. “I’ve been busy over the Spring Festival and haven’t had time to visit you. Let me introduce—Hai Shu here is now my colleague, sometimes even gives me assignments.”

Hai Shu laughed. “I couldn’t dare. Xie Ge is in Special Operations; he’s way above us.”

“Strong dragons can’t suppress local snakes. Huiyong City is your territory, Hai Shu,” Xie Jingyu said, handing her the remaining half bottle of wine.

Hai Shu continued pouring it on the tombstone. The aroma of the wine and the spring afternoon sunlight felt intoxicating. They chatted idly to someone who could no longer answer. In the photo, Xie Xiaolong’s gaze was gentle, as if he could hear them, as if seeing them brought him comfort.

The empty bottle hit the ground with a faint sound. Xie Jingyu said, “It’s because of you, because of us, that she wore this uniform.”

Hai Shu turned to him in surprise, but Xie Jingyu didn’t look at her, only at the photo.

From the moment they arrived until now, neither had mentioned what happened when they were eight. That death seemed nonexistent; they were merely there for a memorial, like ordinary people, to visit a departed loved one.

“She’s like me… can’t let go,” Xie Jingyu continued. “So, old man, can I tell her your stories and what happened to me these past years?”

The wind stirred the branches, shadows swaying on the tombstone, as if the wind had shape, as if the departed were still present.

Hai Shu whispered, “Xiao Yu…”

Xie Jingyu picked up the wine bottle and said to Hai Shu, “He says it’s okay.”

The cemetery was quiet and solemn. The dead remained only as souls—if souls exist—while the living seemed able to temporarily forget the vessel of the soul, letting two souls draw closer.

Xie Jingyu said, “I heard they took you to Wandou Street and to the scene, and you were looking for me.”

“They?” Hai Shu asked.

“The Special Operations team. After the incident, they took me from the Dongye precinct.”

Hai Shu looked up at the horizon. “The police asked me what exactly happened that day. I cried and asked Xiao Yu where he was. Neither of us got an answer from the other.” She let out a helpless laugh. “Kids like me are the hardest to deal with.”

Her peripheral vision lingered on the inscription of the tombstone, which had no words about Xie Xiaolong’s identity. Hai Shu said, “Uncle Xiaolong… he was Special Operations too?”

Xie Jingyu paused for a moment and nodded. “That’s why I followed him since I was little. When he was gone, his teammates and superiors still looked out for me.” Xie Jingyu sat on the steps ahead and patted the spot next to him. “Tired from standing?”

Hai Shu sat down, and Xie Jingyu said, “When he found me, he didn’t have any missions left anyway.”

The past floated like clouds on the horizon—sometimes turbulent, sometimes silent. It drifted far away, seemingly unrelated to the one recounting it, yet its shadow fell, forming a solid protection for the storyteller.

The name Xie Jingyu was given by Xie Xiaolong. When Xie Xiaolong found him, he was only five years old. Xie Xiaolong had recently completed a mission and was assigned a new identity by his superiors—to work at the dairy farm at the Wandou Street Ammunition Factory. For more than a decade, Xie Xiaolong had hardly known stability. Alone, he skirted life and death, accumulating injuries and grudges. His superiors essentially hid him, letting him live a normal life and recover his health. Whether he would return to Special Operations later was another matter.

At the time, Xie Jingyu had no idea how formidable his adoptive father was and struggled to adjust to his new name. He had no memory of his biological parents, but people called him Xiao Yu—it was easy to say.

He asked Xie Xiaolong, “Why Xie Jingyu?”

Xie Xiaolong flipped through a dictionary borrowed from the union director with a serious expression. “Because my name is Xie Xiaolong.”

“…”

“So you take my surname,” Xie Xiaolong explained cheerfully. “But isn’t my name a bit plain? Xiaolong, Xiaohu, Xiaoniu, Xiaozhu… my son should have something fancy. I searched for a long time to find these two characters: Jingyu, so fancy!”

“…”

The child didn’t grasp what was fancy and was still dissatisfied. “What does ‘Yu’ mean?”

Xie Xiaolong said, “Island! Islands are so romantic.”

The child had no idea what romance meant. “But I was originally Xiao Yu, the ‘Yu’ from universe! The universe is so much bigger than an island!”

Xie Xiaolong ignored the protest and continued, “Think about it, the ocean is so romantic! But if it’s only the ocean, it’s lonely. In the vast ocean, there’s a tiny island—that’s hope!”

“But the island is so tiny, and the universe is so big!”

“You little fool, you even know how big the universe is!”

The father and son argued about “Yu” versus “island” all night. The child couldn’t win, exhausted, and after finishing the egg fried rice Xie Xiaolong cooked, he fell asleep contentedly.

But when it came time to register his household, he discovered Xie Xiaolong had written Xie Yu.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be Xie Jingyu?” he blinked.

Xie Xiaolong tapped his nose. “Who cares about the universe? If you don’t agree, you sulk?”

He wanted to say he wasn’t sulking. He had convinced himself in the past few days—Yu would be Yu. After looking at it long enough, it was… romantic!

But he was even happier that Xie Xiaolong was willing to register him as Xie Yu.

From age five to eight, he lived with Xie Xiaolong for three years. During those years, he was often unhappy, because as he grew older, he noticed that most of the people at the factory were workers. Xie Xiaolong, although nominally a staff member, didn’t work on the production line; he was a milk delivery man. Milk delivery men were low status at the factory. The workers didn’t say anything to his face, but at home, they would talk about it to their children. Kids could be cruel, flaunting wealth, mocking Xie Xiaolong’s position.

At first, he fought them but was too small to win. Xie Xiaolong would apply ointment to his scratches while joking with him. He felt worse, “Why are you making fun of me too?”

Xie Xiaolong patiently explained that life involved many experiences, and at such a young age, he had to learn to reconcile with the outside world and his own heart.

He didn’t understand then, disliked the factory kids even more, and became quieter. He preferred to play alone rather than interact with peers. Xie Xiaolong never forced him to play, and it seemed no matter what he did, Xie Xiaolong didn’t mind.

When he grew up and Xie Xiaolong disappeared from his life, he realized those three years had been the only period of peace in his life. Before and after, everything around him was turbulent.

The night Xie Xiaolong was murdered became a nightmare that haunted him for years. When the police took him away, his mind went blank. He couldn’t explain why he had stayed by the body so long, nor why Xie Xiaolong had died.

His behavior seemed so strange. How could a child spend the night by a corpse? Wasn’t he afraid? Shouldn’t he call for an adult? He became the center of a storm. The police speculated—he had assisted the murderer in killing Xie Xiaolong.

He didn’t even defend himself. His thoughts froze, and it took him a long time to process the simple fact that Xie Xiaolong had been killed.

A group of people unlike regular detectives came to the precinct. Like a walking corpse, he was brought before them. One man had a resolute face, bloodshot eyes, and silently stared at him before patting his shoulder to take him away.

Just like Xie Xiaolong had taken him years ago.

He followed them like a puppet. The police around him looked at him with strange and puzzled expressions. He had flown on a plane for the first time in his life, arriving in an unknown city. He only knew he was sent to a hospital for repeated treatments.

When his mind finally began to work again, his emotions poured out like a dam breaking. He cried and shouted, “Uncle Long! Dad!”

Over six months of psychological intervention, he pieced together what he had experienced, who he was, and who Xie Xiaolong had been. That day, the one who came to take him was Zeng Wen, a captain in a Special Operations unit and Xie Xiaolong’s direct superior. Zeng told him he was Xie Xiaolong’s child and that the unit would be his home from now on.

He grew up in Zeng’s household and with several of Xie Xiaolong’s teammates. When re-registering his household, he didn’t hesitate to change his name to Xie Jingyu. That was one of the few traces Xie Xiaolong had left him.

Captain Zeng said he didn’t have to follow in Xie Xiaolong’s footsteps. If he liked painting, he could paint; if he liked studying, as long as he got in, Special Operations would send him to the best school.

But his fate had already taken a sharp turn at age eight—he was destined to inherit Xie Xiaolong’s legacy.

Special Operations training and selection were extremely strict. Captain Zeng reminded him that if he chose to be an ordinary person, Special Operations would give all the help they could. But if he decided to become one of them, the unit would not let him go without a connection.

By then, he was sixteen. He smiled and said, “Captain Zeng, my surname is Xie, Xie Xiaolong’s Xie. Train me the way you trained Xie Xiaolong before.”

At twenty, he became an official member of Special Operations, following the unit on missions. But even today, neither he nor Special Operations had caught the person who killed Xie Xiaolong.

Hai Shu’s palms were slightly sweaty. Her deduction was correct. The investigation reports she had access to over the years seemed coded. Xie Xiaolong was Special Operations, and the case had been transferred internally long ago.

“Has a general range been identified?” Hai Shu asked.

Xie Jingyu said, “He once went undercover in an armed group in Southeast Asia. That group cooperated with a domestic human trafficking organization. Special Operations took down the domestic criminals at the time, but some in that group have been looking for him ever since.”

Hai Shu said, “Revenge?”

Retaliation against Special Operations was common, which is why Xie Xiaolong hid in the factory—an inconspicuous place—acting as the least noticeable milk delivery man.

Xie Jingyu shook his head. “At first we thought it was revenge, but after interrogating many people and working with Ministry of Public Security experts, we realized it’s more likely silencing. He knew a secret.”

Hai Shu frowned. “Even Special Operations doesn’t know the secret?”

Xie Jingyu said, “He probably overlooked it himself. There are no internal records.”

Both fell silent, the wind outside sounding unusually loud.

After a while, Xie Jingyu asked, “Disappointed?”

Hai Shu turned to him and said something unrelated, “Uncle Xiaolong really was fancy.”

“Hm?”

“Xie Jingyu is way fancier than Xie Yu.”

After a brief moment of surprise, Xie Jingyu lowered his head and smiled. Hai Shu stood and reached out her hand. “Time to go back.”

Xie Jingyu used her momentum to stand, and Hai Shu added, “Thank you.”

Xie Jingyu watched her.

“For telling me all this,” Hai Shu took a deep breath. “Actually, twenty years ago, we were already on the same boat. I couldn’t become an international superstar, and you couldn’t become the Monkey King.”

Xie Jingyu interrupted, “Never wanted to be the Monkey King…”

Hai Shu laughed. “Close enough. Uncle Xiaolong’s death weighs on my shoulders and yours. You need the truth, I need it too.”

Their gazes intertwined over the tombstone. Xie Jingyu said, “Now it really is military and police as one family.”

Hai Shu scoffed and turned to the tombstone, standing straight. “Uncle Long, we’ll visit you again next time.”

On Qingming, thoughts of the deceased bring peace. In another cemetery, Wen Xu carried a handful of pink roses and climbed a long flight of stairs, placing them by a newer tombstone.

“Xiao Mian, how have you been recently?”

The photo on the tombstone was of a woman with a high ponytail. Not stunning, but her smile was bright, with a small dimple on her right cheek, eyes shining.

Her name below the photo: Ke Xiao Mian.

Wen Xu crouched and traced her name with his finger. On his ring finger was a wedding ring—rarely worn due to his work as a forensic doctor.

“During Spring Festival I went to see our parents, took them for check-ups—they’re healthy. Don’t worry.” His voice was soft and gentle, with a hint of a smile, talking about mundane family matters, as if the person in the photo were still alive, still strong enough to playfully ambush him.

“By the way, our team has a new captain. Like you, she’s skilled, but a bit sharper than you. Captain Qiao even called Special Operations. Captain He is here too. All familiar faces. If you were here…”

Wen Xu paused, lowered his head, then continued after a moment. “We could work together.”

Sunlight fell on the photo, making Ke Xiao Mian’s smile even more radiant.

Wen Xu shifted, leaned against the tombstone, and closed his eyes, perhaps his vision strained from looking at the clouds.

No one disturbed him. It was as if he were resting in Ke Xiao Mian’s embrace, taking a peaceful nap.

Opening her eyes again, she brushed the dust off her clothes and gave Ke Xiao Mian a casual salute. “Heading back.”

Dusk draped over the city. Far from the cemetery, there was no farewell or longing—people were happily enjoying their time off.

At Yuzhou Foreign Languages, a three-story office building in the busiest district of Zhongjin was rented as classrooms. During breaks, students trickled out of small classes in twos and threes. Several foreign teachers were surrounded, continuing class discussions in the hallways.

“Teacher Shui!”

The woman heard the call behind her, stopped, and turned with a gentle smile. She wore a beige pencil skirt suit, her hair styled in slightly retro waves reminiscent of old Hong Kong stars. Her makeup was light, elegant yet unpretentious. “Yes?”

“Nothing, nothing!” the student said. “Teacher Shui, why were you in such a rush to leave class today? Not chatting with us like usual—aren’t you supposed to be like that? Are you going on a date?”

She smiled. “No date, just picking up my daughter.”

The student’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way, you’re so young and already have a daughter?”

Flattered, she blushed slightly. “Not that young anymore.”

“But you really look young, unlike us, worn out by work.” The student sighed deeply. Their class was full of working adults, using free time to improve English. The youngest had just graduated, the oldest barely in their early thirties.

“How old is your daughter?” the student asked.

“High school,” she replied.

The student exaggerated, “Wow! I thought if you had a child, it would be a kindergartner!”

She chuckled.

After chatting, they reached the first floor. The students went down the elevator while she headed to the second basement to get her car. They said their goodbyes. Exiting the elevator, she exhaled, relaxing her tense shoulders.

This part-time job as an English teacher paid well, had a good environment, and—most importantly—offered flexible hours. But after a few months, she still felt somewhat out of place. She couldn’t handle overly social students.

Driving toward the east side of the city, traffic was heavy. She grew slightly anxious and made a few calls. “Mom will be there soon. Don’t wander off, okay?”

Several luxury cars were parked outside Stivon International School. She parked quickly and rushed out. Seeing a tall figure, her face lit up. “Chun Yu, over here!”

The girl looked like she had seen a plague god, immediately turning away. Three classmates accompanied her, one nudging her arm. “Your mom’s here.”

Chun Yu rolled her eyes and walked quickly in the opposite direction. She hurried up. “Chun Yu!”

The girl shouted impatiently, “Did I call you? Didn’t I tell you I’m not coming home for Qingming?”

Her loud voice drew attention. The woman stood awkwardly, then tried a pleading smile. “It’s a holiday, you have to come home! Your classmates are going home too. Come on, let’s go with Mom.”

“Auntie,” a classmate said, “we’re not going either. Chun Yu said we’ll go hiking tomorrow.”

“Hiking? Where?” She was worried, reaching for the girl. “Girls alone aren’t safe. Come with Mom. Where do you want to go tomorrow? I’ll take you.”

The girl finally snapped, swatting her hand away. “Annoying! I’m not going!”

The woman froze. “Chun Yu! Why are you like this?”

The girl ignored her and ran into the school. She tried to follow but couldn’t catch up. Her eyebrows sank in disappointment. After a few seconds, she forced a smile and muttered to herself, “Forget it.”

She walked back to her car, paused, and looked at the school gate. The girl was already gone. She sighed heavily, got into the car, and sat there for a long time before starting the engine.

After a day of commuting from Qiyun City, Hai Shu returned home exhausted. After showering, she planned to sleep early but noticed two missed calls on her phone. She got a lot of calls daily, but the name caught her off guard.

The caller: Rong Jing.

Her mother.

Rong Jing and her stepfather Wang Jian had been living in G country for years. Their contact had dwindled. In previous years, she might have checked in during New Year, but this year she was caught up with the Zhou Pingzhen case and forgot. Rong Jing hadn’t called.

Now, just before Qingming, Rong Jing called twice, which was unusual.

Hai Shu hesitated but answered the second call politely. “Mom.”

Rong Jing’s voice was slightly tense. “Shushu, how have you been lately? Busy?”

Her mother’s concern felt foreign to Hai Shu. She paused before replying, “I’m fine, Mom. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, just thought it’s been a while. Wanted to check on you,” Rong Jing said. “You’re a detective. I see those criminals on TV and can’t help worrying.”

Hai Shu sensed there was more to say. “Been doing this for years, I’m used to it.”

Both sides were silent for a moment. Hai Shu knew that being motherly and filial wasn’t exactly Rong Jing’s forte.

Rong Jing spoke again, “Look, you’re not that young anymore. Why not talk to your superior about switching to a safer position? I mean, not frontline anymore. Maybe find someone to discuss friends or… other things.”

“Mom,” Hai Shu interrupted, “I don’t have that plan for now.”

Rong Jing muttered reluctantly, “Alright, alright.”

There was nothing more to say, but Hai Shu felt that since Rong Jing had gone through the effort of calling, it couldn’t have been just to pressure her about marriage. “Mom, do you want to ask me something?”

Rong Jing quickly denied it. “No, no! I just suddenly wanted to call. Take care of yourself, okay? Wang Shu and I are fine here too.”

After the polite exchange, Hai Shu hung up, sat for a while, still feeling the call had been oddly pointless.

After Qingming, fashion brands from across the country gathered in Huiyong City for a two-week exhibition and trade fair.

The venue was in Zhongjin District. The local precinct sent plenty of police to maintain order, and the city bureau also dispatched some personnel. Sui Xing wanted to see the excitement, but this kind of work never fell to the Detective Team One.

Sui Xing was complaining when Hai Shu scrolled through her social media.

Sui Xing peeked over. “What is it?”

Hai Shu turned her phone toward him. A member of Special Operations was boldly blending in with the precinct SWAT.

Sui Xing stood expressionless and walked toward the door. Hai Shu called, “Where are you going?”

Sui Xing: “Hugging a Special Ops brother’s thigh.”

Hai Shu laughed, “Come back here. Don’t come back empty-handed and end up marking yourself absent.”

Sui Xing grumbled but returned.

Three days later, Sui Xing was still thinking about the trade fair when he suddenly saw explosive news: this morning, a female corpse was discovered at the exhibition.