Chapter Thirty-Six: Both Enemy and Friend

The sun shone brightly, illuminating the ornate signs of the bustling shops along Chafey Road. The entrance to Frost Joy Detective Agency stood open to the street, yet not a single soul passed through. Lately, Old Zha Gate had been tranquil—no murders, no fires, not even petty theft.

Liu Rushuang sat at her desk, her hands propping up her chin, lost in idleness. Beside her, Bai Yulou gazed at Liu Rushuang with gentle affection.

“With no cases to investigate, I have no reason to visit the police station and see Brother Xi,” Liu Rushuang muttered to herself.

At the mention of Ying Xi, Bai Yulou’s brows knit in displeasure. Liu Rushuang suddenly turned to him, prompting Bai Yulou to swiftly mask his annoyance.

“Baibai, what if I write Brother Xi a love letter?” Liu Rushuang mused dreamily. “Pour out my heart, tell him how I fell for him at first sight two years ago…” She sank, lovestruck, into sweet recollection.

More than two years ago, the notorious thief Night Fragrance sneaked into the Liu family’s textile shop under cover of darkness, making off with all their fabrics. The next morning, Liu Rushuang’s father, Mr. Liu, discovered half his fortune vanished, collapsed in anger, and fainted. In panic, Liu Rushuang ran to the police to report the crime.

She barreled into the police courtyard, shouting, and collided straight into Ying Xi, who had just stepped out of the station.

“What’s the panic in broad daylight?” Ying Xi said disdainfully, pushing away the flustered young woman and smoothing his clothes.

“Sorry, I’m here to…” Liu Rushuang panted, breathless.

“Reporting a case, right?” Ying Xi interrupted impatiently.

She nodded. Ying Xi cast a casual glance at her. “Just tell me, what happened?”

“A thief came. My father’s been robbed. All our fabric, gone—an entire textile shop’s worth.”

“So your father’s textile shop was cleaned out, is that it?” Ying Xi responded calmly, arms crossed.

Liu Rushuang blinked and nodded eagerly, afraid he might misunderstand. “Yes.”

Ying Xi stroked his beard. “Which textile shop?”

“The biggest in Old Zha Gate—Liu’s Textile Shop. My father’s name is Liu Shan.”

“Your father is the richest man here?” Ying Xi paused.

Liu Rushuang nodded, “That’s right.”

She felt a surge of pride, thinking that now Ying Xi knew she was the daughter of Old Zha Gate’s wealthiest, he would not treat her so indifferently. Yet Ying Xi remained unimpressed.

“Got it,” he said, standing woodenly.

“Aren’t you going to inspect the scene?” Liu Rushuang stared at him in disbelief.

“I have other matters now. Go home first,” Ying Xi replied, turning away with a swagger.

Liu Rushuang gazed in awe at his retreating figure. Every man she’d met before had bowed and scraped, eager to marry into the Liu family, but Ying Xi was a rare exception.

She felt both fresh and excited, a thrill unlike any she’d known.

“Officer, what is your name?” she called after him.

Ying Xi glanced back, curious. “I’m the new detective, Ying Xi. You can call me Detective Ying.”

“Brother Xi, I’m Liu Rushuang!” she exclaimed, nearly jumping for joy, instantly forgetting her family’s misfortune. She believed fate had brought her to him, thanks to Night Fragrance.

Ying Xi frowned, annoyed by her sudden familiarity, and walked off.

Liu Rushuang gazed adoringly at his back, determined to pursue him—little did she know, this pursuit would last over two years.

Returning to the present, she propped her chin, her face full of admiration. “Brother Xi speaks with crisp decisiveness, never currying favor with the powerful. Wherever I went, as soon as I said I was the daughter of Liu Shan, owner of Liu’s Textile Shop, people rushed to please me. But not Brother Xi—he barely gave me the time of day…” She blushed, lowering her head shyly.

Beside her, Bai Yulou’s jealousy simmered; he scoffed quietly, voice low. “He ignored your report because he lacks responsibility—not because he’s above flattery.”

Liu Rushuang didn’t hear, turning to Bai Yulou. “Baibai, if I write Brother Xi a love letter, do you think he’ll be moved?”

Bai Yulou opened his mouth, but Liu Rushuang remembered her little companion was still “hypnotized,” shook her head in regret, and muttered, “Forget it—you’re still in a trance, asking you is pointless.”

She picked up paper and pen, speaking as she wrote, “Dearest Brother Xi…”

Bai Yulou grew anxious. Suddenly, he had an idea and cried out dramatically, “Ah! I don’t want to live! Let me die!” He ran to the window, feigning a suicide attempt, his eyes slyly watching Liu Rushuang.

She rushed over, grabbing him with concern. “Baibai, why are you having another episode?”

“Sister Shuang, my heart aches—I’ve wronged Sister Hao and Cheng Zesheng. I must die to atone!” Bai Yulou repeated his old trick.

“Oh, don’t think such things.”

“Sister Shuang, I feel so terrible, always wanting to die.” He put on a pitiful act, stealing glances at her.

Liu Rushuang scratched her head, helplessly glancing at the love letter on the table. “Forget it, I’ll write it another day. Let’s go out for a walk and clear your mind.”

Bai Yulou was delighted. Liu Rushuang turned to him, prompting Bai Yulou to instantly adopt a hopeless expression.

By evening, Zhu Wolong waited in the police courtyard for Bao Rong. Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi emerged from the station, their faces swollen like freshly steamed buns. Zhu Wolong couldn’t help but point and laugh.

Lu Hehuan approached, bewildered. “Is there something amusing, Boss Zhu?”

Zhu Wolong stifled his laughter. “When I saw you two, I thought you were balloons. What happened?”

“Allergic reaction,” Ying Xi answered, wincing.

Zhu Wolong chuckled behind his hand; Lu Hehuan stood awkwardly.

As they spoke, a bald officer rushed out, “Detective Ying, the materials you requested yesterday.”

Ying Xi, unwilling to lose face before his subordinates, waved dismissively. “Give them to me tomorrow.” He strode away, pulling Lu Hehuan along.

“Detective Ying…” The bald officer scratched his slick head, baffled.

Ying Xi ignored him, marching forward with Lu Hehuan.

“Why ignore him?” Lu Hehuan asked, lost.

“If they see me beaten like this, I’ll lose authority. Quick, let’s go!” Ying Xi broke into a run.

“What’s with Detective Ying?” The bald officer wondered aloud. Yesterday Ying Xi was desperate for the materials; now he wouldn’t even take them.

Zhu Wolong glanced at the bald officer, smiled meaningfully. “Your Detective Ying is bun-faced now.”

“Bun-faced?” The officer scratched his head, even more confused, and returned inside.

At closing hour, Bao Rong and Bao Kang left the station together. Bao Rong spotted Zhu Wolong waiting in the courtyard and tried to slip away, but Bao Kang grabbed her firmly.

Bao Kang smiled apologetically. “Boss Zhu specially came to take us home.”

Zhu Wolong approached obsequiously. “Chief Bao, Miss Bao, my car is parked at the entrance.”

Bao Rong’s face hardened, her tone cold. “With healthy legs, why ride? I’ll walk home.” She shook off Bao Kang and strode out.

Zhu Wolong dared not stop her, turning helplessly to Bao Kang for aid. Bao Kang, struggling to suppress his anger, placated him, “Don’t worry, Boss Zhu. Rong is inexperienced and doesn’t appreciate your kindness yet—I’ll work on her.”

Zhu Wolong sighed and nodded.

At dusk, the street was sparsely populated; the vendors on both sides languished, hoping late passersby would buy their remaining goods. Suddenly, their attention was drawn to a couple—a woman leading a man by a rope. Yes, it was Liu Rushuang taking Bai Yulou out for some air.

Liu Rushuang pulled Bai Yulou along the street; pedestrians stared as if observing a pair of oddities.

“Why is that woman leading that man?”

“It’s like walking a dog.”

“That poor man—probably abused daily.”

“Maybe he’s a fool, and likes it.”

Their gossip reached Liu Rushuang’s ears. She shouted angrily, “Hey, what are you saying? He’s under hypnosis—I’m leading him to keep him from dying!”

The crowd laughed, but continued their chatter.

“Hypnosis? Never heard of it—is it witchcraft?”

“That man’s pitiful.”

“Treated like a dog—it’s no wonder he wants to die.”

“If you’re afraid he’ll die, why not just hold his hand?”

The last remark gave Bai Yulou an idea; his eyes lit up, secretly scheming to get closer to Liu Rushuang.

She, embarrassed and angry, pointed at the crowd. “You people… are impossible! Hmph!” She turned to Bai Yulou, soothing him gently, “Baibai, don’t look, don’t listen.”

Bai Yulou looked pitifully at the rope in his hand, sniffing. “Sister Shuang, do you despise me because I’m a murderer?”

“What are you talking about?” Liu Rushuang rebuked, shocked.

“Then why tie me up instead of holding my hand? You must despise me for my crimes…”

“I…” She was momentarily at a loss.

“I shouldn’t live—let me die…” Bai Yulou sobbed loudly.

The crowd cast him sympathetic glances.

Liu Rushuang, unable to bear it, bit her lip, untied the rope, and took Bai Yulou’s hand, patting it bravely. “Let’s go, Baibai.”

Bai Yulou, thrilled by her gesture, struggled to hide his joy, pretending sorrow as he nodded and followed her away.

The crowd continued their lively discussion, as if Liu Rushuang and Bai Yulou had brought a spark of life to their dull city routine.

The evening light deepened; soft red glow streamed in through the windows. Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi sat on the dormitory beds, applying herbal medicine to each other’s bruises.

“Is this ointment really safe for the face? Seems unscientific,” Lu Hehuan doubted.

Ying Xi rolled his eyes. “Why not? Skin is skin, don’t discriminate.”

Lu Hehuan dared not argue further, dipping cotton in the medicine and dabbing Ying Xi’s face.

“Ow, gently!” Ying Xi grimaced.

Lu Hehuan frowned slightly. “You weren’t gentle either.”

Both eased their touch, so much so it felt like caressing each other’s faces, an ambiguous air drifting in the room.

Ying Xi reached out to apply medicine to Lu Hehuan, who paused, lost in memory.

Dusk, years ago—young Lu Hehuan and Ling Yan sat at her family’s table. Lu Hehuan, bruised and muddy, had clearly been in a fight.

Ling Yan wiped his face with a silk handkerchief; he seized her hand, making her blush.

“Hehuan, don’t fight for me anymore,” Ling Yan said seriously.

Lu Hehuan grinned, childishly. “If I don’t protect you, who will?”

Ling Yan pulled her hand away, carefully cleaning his face. After a while, she spoke.

“Let them say what they will—I don’t care.”

“That won’t do. You and your mother may be poor, but you’ve never stolen or robbed. Why should those boys insult you? If they dare again, I’ll fight them.”

“Thank you, Hehuan,” Ling Yan said, deeply moved.

“No need for thanks. Protecting my future wife is only right,” he replied, as if it were obvious.

Ling Yan laughed shyly, poked his forehead firmly. “Who said I’d marry you?”

“Ow, that hurts…”

“Are you alright?” Ling Yan grew nervous, apologetic. “I forgot you were hurt.”

Lu Hehuan rubbed his head, winking mischievously at her. “That poke hurt more than their punches.”

Ling Yan watched his forehead, worried. “Oh dear, you’re bleeding. Wait, I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“No need, I’m fine.”

“No, untreated it will get infected.”

She fetched the kit, returned, and carefully disinfected his wound.

Lu Hehuan gazed at her, eyes full of affection.

Ling Yan bandaged him, then paused, troubled. “I’m not tolerating them—I just don’t want my mother to worry.”

“If you’re bullied, your mother will worry even more. Any mother would. If you’re well, she’ll be at ease.”

“Hehuan, than—”

“Hey!” He interrupted, touching her lips with his finger, earnest. “No thanks allowed.”

Ling Yan smiled, stuck out her tongue playfully. “Fine—no thanks.”

Lu Hehuan smiled, satisfied.

Unnoticed, Ling Yan finished bandaging him, stroked his forehead affectionately. He now wore a pretty bow of gauze, looking ridiculous.

She bit her lip, barely suppressing laughter. Lu Hehuan gazed at her, and in his daze, he seemed to hear her melodious laughter.

He snapped out of it—before him now was Ying Xi, wearing an impatient expression.

Ying Xi waved his hand. “Why are you staring at me? Is something on my face?”

Lu Hehuan returned to himself, shook his head, sad. “Ling Yan used to wipe my face like that.”

Ying Xi scoffed. “Ling Yan again.”

Lu Hehuan sighed. “I wonder where she is now, how she’s doing. She must have suffered.”

Ying Xi, fed up, got off the bed. “If she suffers, it’s her own doing. Why worry? Don’t bother yourself.”

Lu Hehuan looked down, guilt-ridden. “If I hadn’t left, things might have been different.”

“There’s no ‘if’ in this world,” Ying Xi retorted, rough.

Lu Hehuan looked at him, earnest. “Detective Ying, please keep investigating Ling Yan’s case.”

“No, no, don’t drag me into this. Chief Bao would skin me alive!” Ying Xi shook his head.

“Don’t forget—you promised to help, or I wouldn’t have stayed at the station,” Lu Hehuan said sternly.

Ying Xi avoided his gaze, nervously stroking his beard. “That case is old, and the person is missing—it’s difficult.”

“Difficult or not, we must investigate! I can’t let Ling Yan be wronged—I must clear her name!” Lu Hehuan was resolute.

“If she’s gone, what’s the point? Even if you vindicate her, if she doesn’t return, what meaning is there?”

Lu Hehuan, seeing Ying Xi dodging, stood up sharply. “Detective Ying, do your promises mean nothing?”

Ying Xi scratched his head, silent.

“Fine, I’ll resign now.”

He began to leave; Ying Xi hurriedly grabbed his arm, dropping his pride to persuade him. “Hey, hey, what’s this?”

“If you don’t help, why should I keep working for you?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll investigate. You’re impossible.” Ying Xi relented.

“We start tomorrow,” Lu Hehuan pressed.

“Tomorrow won’t work. We need approval for a new investigation, or we’ll lack access and authority. Otherwise, it’s pointless.”

“How long will it take?” Lu Hehuan asked anxiously.

Ying Xi sat, thinking. “I’m not sure. If you really want to investigate, you must follow my lead. We can’t rush—must plan carefully.”

Lu Hehuan said nothing, sulking back onto the bed.

Ying Xi watched him, then fetched two bottles of liquor from the cabinet, waved them at Lu Hehuan. “Alright, your matter—no, Ling Yan’s matter—I’ll keep in mind. When the chance comes, I’ll apply for a new investigation.”

“That’s your word?” Lu Hehuan asked.

“A man’s word is his bond. I mean it.” Ying Xi nodded solemnly.

Lu Hehuan smiled, spotting the bottles. “What’s the liquor for?”

“Keep it down,” Ying Xi whispered conspiratorially.

“We were just punished for drinking! My face is still burning.”

“That’s why we need a drink,” Ying Xi grinned.

“You’re crazy! If we get caught, we’re doomed.”

“Not if we don’t get caught. Come on.”

Lu Hehuan hesitated, then nodded. “Makes sense.”

Ying Xi and Lu Hehuan crawled under the bed, lying side by side, heads close.

“It’s filthy—full of germs,” Lu Hehuan complained.

Ying Xi glared. “Then leave—I don’t mind dirt, I’ll drink alone.”

Lu Hehuan considered. “I’ll just shower after.”

Ying Xi laughed, handed him a bottle. They drank together.

Lu Hehuan held out his palm. “Just liquor is dull—bring out your peanuts.”

Ying Xi slapped his hand, mocking him. “Don’t even think about it. Be glad for the liquor.”

“So stingy.” Lu Hehuan’s voice rose unconsciously.

Ying Xi, startled, frowned. “Keep it down, or we’re toast.”

“Who’d guess we’re drinking under the bed? We’ve sacrificed a lot for this.”

Ying Xi brightened, laughing. “True enough. Drink.”

Lu Hehuan laughed, clinking bottles with Ying Xi.

Outside, the bright moon, unwilling to spoil their mood, slipped gently behind thick clouds.