Chapter 24 – Old Case

During his middle school years, Qin Yuezhang followed his father abroad and kept in touch with Wei Qinzhou as online friends, often chatting via their phones.

At one point, Wei Qinzhou suddenly told him that he wanted to go to the mountains to photograph the Milky Way. July and August were the best time to observe it.

Wei Qinzhou was a man of strong execution.

Not long after, Wei Qinzhou joined a volunteer teaching team from his school and went to a mountainous area near Xue City, teaching while waiting for the chance to observe the Milky Way.

“What’s so special about the Milky Way? It’s just a bunch of stars.”

Wei Qinzhou sighed in exasperation: “Are you some old bureaucrat? How could someone as romantic and fun as me end up with such a rational, boring friend like you?”

“Isn’t that the case?”

“I really hope one day you meet someone who makes you lose all rationality!” Wei Qinzhou’s mocking tone crossed oceans through the phone, hitting Qin Yuezhang like a wave. “Ah, I can hardly imagine—could it be that no such person exists?”

Qin Yuezhang fell silent. Rationality was innate—how could it be easily lost?

Wei Qinzhou, however, took his words as a curse condemning his friend to lifelong loneliness and awkwardly changed the subject: “Actually, at this school where I’m teaching, there’s a little boy who’s quite pitiful. His classmates bully him, and we volunteer teachers can’t discipline them too harshly. I don’t even know how to comfort him.”

School bullying wasn’t anything rare. Due to his profession, Qin Yuezhang had encountered many such cases.

Wei Qinzhou continued: “It seems to be because of his father’s issues. He’s really depressed about it and doesn’t even fight back when hit. If I hadn’t barged into the bathroom, who knows how badly he’d have been bullied!”

“People can’t choose their origins, but they can choose the path they walk,” Qin Yuezhang said. “Silence won’t solve the problem. No one else can save him—he needs to save himself. When he’s strong enough, others will think twice before bullying him.”

“That makes sense. I’ll comfort him with that next time!” Wei Qinzhou sent a laughing emoji. “If you were in the country, maybe you could even give him some counseling!”

Qin Yuezhang didn’t respond.

He hadn’t studied psychology because of any strong empathy. Rather, he was born with an extremely calm and rational nature.

This allowed him to remain unaffected by others’ emotions and accurately analyze the psychological reasons behind them.

From a very young age, Qin Yuezhang realized he enjoyed observing people’s inner worlds from a detached perspective—even if that person was his own hysterical mother.

At that time, Qin Yuezhang felt a sense of dissonance. His mother, who appeared glamorous and radiant in public, could also be disheveled, smashing and kicking things in private.

Later, as Qin Yuezhang encountered more and more patients, he noticed their conditions often had similarities. He gradually found it dull, but then again, most work was dull.

However, the little boy Wei Qinzhou mentioned never came up in their conversations again.

His volunteer teaching trip reportedly ended abruptly due to some unpleasant circumstances. A year later, Wei Qinzhou applied to a university abroad and left Xue City with his mother.

Once, Qin Yuezhang casually asked about that little boy. Wei Qinzhou’s expression darkened, and he brushed it off: “Nothing. I used to think he was pitiful, but later… Ah, forget it. Never mind!”

So he wasn’t pitiful anymore?

Even someone as easygoing as Wei Qinzhou was too frustrated to talk about it. Qin Yuezhang figured the boy must have had a truly vile nature.

After all, wasn’t it said that every pitiable person has their own despicable traits?

The classroom was noisy and chaotic, with no teacher in sight. Yan Ru and I took our seats in the empty spots. Everything seemed to proceed naturally, with no one raising any objections.

Yan Ru looked completely unfazed, as if he had entirely forgotten that he was a street vendor selling women’s clothing and fully accepted his identity as a student. Was this the dream rationalization of Blizzard?

Soon, a slender, tall figure walked in through the door. The students fell silent for a second before bursting into a wave of cheers. They were always overflowing with enthusiasm for new people and things.

“Hello, everyone. I’m from the volunteer teaching team, and I teach music. My surname is Wang.” She turned and wrote her name on the blackboard in neat strokes, the crimson hem of her dress fluttering gracefully as she moved. “My name is Wang Yuehan. You can call me ‘Sister Yuehan’ or ‘Teacher Wang.'”

The students responded warmly, every detail mirroring my memories.

I already knew what would happen next.

A slight pain prickled at my back. I turned to see Gu Lanshan, who had somehow taken the seat behind me, grinning foolishly at me.

He tugged at my collar, signaling me to lean back, then whispered in my ear: “The boss has a new battle plan. We’ll discuss it outside later!”

I sneered inwardly but replied, “Sure.”

A plan devised by Xu Anran? I’d have to listen carefully.

Before I could sit up straight, Yan Ru tapped my shoulder.

“What is it?” I asked.

Yan Ru glanced at Gu Lanshan and said, “Teacher Wang asked us to introduce ourselves.”

Sure enough, the students took turns standing up to give their names.

The youthful, cheerful teacher listened with a smile, occasionally asking the students a few questions.

“My name is Zhou Xin,” a boy stood up and announced. But instead of sitting down, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “Sister, actually, there’s a celebrity in our class. Can you guess who? The whole school knows about him!”

As Zhou Xin spoke, the students began whispering among themselves, some even turning to cast mocking glances at Yan Ru.

That look was all too familiar—like a wad of chewed gum suddenly stuck to you, disgusting and impossible to shake off.

Yan Ru squirmed under their stares, unconsciously leaning slightly toward me.

Wang Yuehan remained oblivious to the undercurrents among the students and even looked around the class with interest. “Really? Which student has a special talent?”

The class erupted in laughter.

Only Yan Ru and I didn’t laugh.

I’d never understood what was so funny about these things. Everyone shared a tacit secret, while I was always the one excluded and mocked.

Did every single one of them harbor malice toward me? Not necessarily. For most, joining in the laughter was just a way to bond, a sense of belonging.

Yan Ru keenly sensed the hostility around him. He furrowed his brows and remained expressionless.

Wang Yuehan asked, “Which student is it? Come up and introduce yourself.”

The entire class turned their eyes toward Yan Ru.

Yan Ru’s frown deepened, but he stayed silent.

Zhou Xin, however, shouted, “Sister, he’s too shy, so I’ll say it for him! His dad is a murderer—the one who raped and killed a girl. Pretty famous, huh?”

Wang Yuehan froze, her smile vanishing instantly as she glanced around awkwardly at the students. Before coming to teach, she’d imagined students this age would still be somewhat innocent. She hadn’t expected to be thrown such a difficult question right away.

She’d thought that as long as she got along with the students and taught well, she’d be fine. But it seemed things weren’t that simple.

“Uh… let’s just move on to the lesson,” Wang Yuehan said with an awkward smile, forcefully changing the subject.

Yan Ru’s rigid posture slowly relaxed. He lowered his head slightly, and I could only see the tense line of his lips.

As soon as class ended, Gu Lanshan signaled for me to follow him. I glanced at Yan Ru and then left with Gu Lanshan.

Gu Lanshan led me to an office with surprising familiarity. Xu Anran was already waiting inside.

Xu Anran was still wearing that gray trench coat, but now his demeanor was nothing like that of a train attendant—instead, he truly resembled a university student here to teach.

Beside Xu Anran sat Qi Youxuan.

The backpack she’d been carrying earlier was nowhere to be seen, and she sat calmly next to Xu Anran, her earlier sorrow seemingly set aside for now.

“Miss Qi, you’ve finally logged in,” Gu Lanshan teased. “I thought your anchor point was lost!”

The gloom in Qi Youxuan’s expression lightened slightly, and she smiled faintly without retorting.

“Gu Lanshan, less talking,” Xu Anran rapped his knuckles on the desk.

Gu Lanshan immediately mimed zipping his lips shut.

“Consultant Qin, your performance has been unexpectedly impressive,” Xu Anran said, smiling at me with genuine praise.

I mimicked Qin Yuezhang’s tone: “I heard President Xu has a new plan, so I came to listen and learn.”

Gu Lanshan shut the office door, and we gathered around a simple desk.

Xu Anran said, “When the train crashed, I was ejected from Snowscape due to death and happened to receive some materials collected and organized by Officer Xie. I think they’ll be very useful for our current situation.”

“What materials?” Gu Lanshan asked.

Xu Anran replied, “According to Officer Xie Ning’s investigation, ten years ago, the Xinfeng County police received a report filed by a member of the volunteer teaching team from Xue City University.”

A nerve in my forehead twitched uncontrollably, and my fingers curled unconsciously under the table.

Qi Youxuan asked, “What was the report about?”

“Attempted rape.”

Gu Lanshan sucked in a breath and muttered, “This couldn’t be related to that little psycho Yan Ru, could it?”

I was about to say something, but Xu Anran spoke first: “We don’t know that. But because the case didn’t result in actual harm to the victim and evidence was insufficient—plus, the perpetrator was a minor—it was eventually dropped.”

Qi Youxuan asked, “Are there names for the victim or perpetrator?”

Xu Anran thought for a moment before saying, “If I recall correctly, the victim’s name was ‘Wang Yuehan.'”