Chapter 3 – Everyone Harbors Secrets

Pei Yu’s chilling indifference did nothing to quell Shen Xingchen’s ardor. He watched the youth purse his lips as if savoring a taste he found particularly pleasing. Shen Xingchenc nodded slightly, a faint smile dancing on his face.

“Is Yan Lang, the retired forensic doctor from the Municipal Bureau, your mentor?”

At the mention of that name, Pei Yu’s brow twitched imperceptibly, a surge of vigilance and defensive instinct rising within him.

“Don’t be afraid, Brother Pei. I won’t hurt you.” Shen Xingchen’s eyes flickered, that enigmatic smile never leaving his lips. “I just want you to tell me where Yan Lang is.”

After a few seconds of silence, Pei Yu spoke. His tone was even colder than his expression. “How should I know?”

The other man let out a silent laugh.

“Seven years ago, Yan Lang applied for early medical retirement. He was only fifty then—years away from the official retirement age. Since then, not a soul has seen him.” Shen Xingchen recited the details as if they were a familiar litany, his voice drifting and ethereal. He didn’t sound like he was stating facts; he sounded like he was flirting. “And you, Brother Pei—Yan Lang’s only star pupil—there is no way you don’t know.”

Pei Yu turned his head slightly, avoiding the youth’s wandering knuckles. “What makes you so certain?”

“His wife and son are settled abroad. As far as I know, he never left Qingquan Province, yet he hasn’t maintained contact with a single friend or relative.” At this, the gaze fixed on Pei Yu’s face grew pointed. “A person living in this world must have some connection to the outside; no one exists in a vacuum. You are a police officer—safe, reliable, capable of keeping a secret, and skilled enough to protect yourself. If necessary, you even have weapons at your disposal. Trusting you was his best option.”

As the words fell, Pei Yu raised his eyes, staring back with unwavering intensity. “If that is what you believe, then you should understand that I will never tell you.”

“Of course. I didn’t expect you to tell me right away. Unless…” Shen Xingchen’s fingertips tapped against Pei Yu’s collar, his smile turning suggestive. “…you change your mind after we sleep together.”

Pei Yu simply rolled his eyes, making no effort to hide his disdain. To him, the emotions of the living were worthless. As for the bodies of the living, he found them even less interesting.

“Brother Pei.”

His knuckles came to a halt at the placket of Pei Yu’s shirt. Shen Xingchen’s voice suddenly shifted, becoming deep and heavy, like a man caught between dreaming and wakefulness.

“Have you ever heard of the Jiang Tianxiao case from seven years ago?”

Something flashed through Pei Yu’s mind like a rapid reel of film. He looked over sharply. Those ink-dark pupils were as deep as stagnant pools, revealing no stray emotion.

How could he not have heard of it?

Jiang Tianxiao had been a student at the Law School of the Qingquan Provincial Police Academy, a senior two years ahead of Pei Yu. Seven years ago, while assigned to a middle school for his graduation internship, he was accused of the heinous crime of raping and murdering a female student. He supposedly engaged in a physical struggle with a witness who arrived shortly after. In a fit of righteous fury, the witness pushed him; Jiang Tianxiao fell, his head striking the corner of a desk. He died instantly, a scandal that rocked the entire city of Wanghai and left his reputation in tatters.

The name Jiang Tianxiao became a shameful stain the police academy refused to mention.

Because of his special status and the extreme depravity of the crime, the academy significantly increased the weight of its political and ethical education courses. By the time Pei Yu’s class graduated, a certain ethics course—which had traditionally been an open-book exam—required every student to publish a core journal thesis of no less than twenty thousand words just to pass.

Given the gravity of the situation, no one dared to speak of it openly, but the sordid details of the “Police Pariah” Jiang Tianxiao spread among the students nonetheless. Class after class, everyone knew the story.

A man brings ruin upon himself; no one felt sympathy for the monstrous Jiang Tianxiao. They only pitied the female student, who was barely fourteen when she died a brutal, battered death on a hotel bed.

Thinking of this, Pei Yu steadied his mind, suppressing a surge of inexplicable sorrow. He watched Shen Xingchen, unsure of what the youth intended.

“If I told you that Jiang Tianxiao was framed, would you believe me?”

Shen Xingchen looked back at him, his gaze finally holding a glimmer of what could be called sincerity. Although the youth’s lips bore a soft smile, Pei Yu sensed a chilling detachment within it that made his heart skip a beat.

“Why should I believe you?”

Since meeting him tonight, not a single word from this man had been the truth. Even his name was of dubious authenticity. Without evidence, Pei Yu could find no reason to trust him.

“Because I could have easily killed you, yet I spared your life.” Shen Xingchen rolled his eyes slightly, the obsidian pupils reflecting the soft flow of moonlight. “You are Yan Lang’s only beloved disciple. If you died, he would surely show himself.” A cunning glint sparked in the obsidian. “But don’t worry, Brother Pei. Even if Yan Lang is willing to let you die, I am not.”

He emphasized the last few words, his voice dropping to a low, husky growl. If it weren’t for the lingering trace of mockery in his tone, Pei Yu might have almost fallen for his nonsense.

“What does this have to do with my mentor?” Pei Yu couldn’t help but ask.

“What kind of man do you think he is?” Shen Xingchen countered with a question of his own. “I mean Yan Lang.”

“He is upright and impartial, honorable and forthright, rigorous and meticulous. He is the finest forensic doctor in the Municipal Bureau.” The words tumbled out of Pei Yu without a second thought. “He showed me great kindness and guided my career. I could never betray him.”

There was no need for pretense or affectation. Ever since Yan Lang had pulled a ten-year-old Pei Yu out of that blood-spattered house seventeen years ago, Pei Yu had known this to be true. He admired the cold flash of the willow-leaf scalpel in Yan Lang’s hand, the way his fingers flew as bone and flesh seemed to converse with him. The living received justice and the dead were given a voice; good was rewarded and evil punished with absolute clarity. Yan Lang had assisted in solving countless major cases, bringing peace to innumerable lost souls.

When Pei Yu applied for the forensic program at the police academy, he hadn’t hesitated for a single moment. Over the years, Yan Lang’s name had become a pillar of justice that stood immovable in his heart. It was perhaps his only remaining connection to the world of the living.

“And what if he isn’t?” The expression in Shen Xingchen’s eyes shifted unpredictably, making it impossible to distinguish truth from fiction. “If one day you discover that he isn’t as incorruptible as you believe, would you still protect him with your life?”

After only a moment’s pause, the rare warmth in Pei Yu’s eyes—born from memories of the past—began to freeze over, degree by degree. “Yes.”

Shen Xingchen watched him, his smile widening into a look of “I knew you’d say that.”

“Did you know? Yan Lang was also involved in the Jiang Tianxiao case seven years ago.”

Pei Yu raised his head slightly, his eyes remaining as calm as a still lake.

“I won’t tell you what role he played or what part he acted in that case just yet.” Shen Xingchen wore a smile of unfathomable depth. “You only need to know that he isn’t the total paragon of virtue you claim he is. Everyone harbors secrets, Brother Pei.”

Pei Yu did not respond, meeting the statement with silence.

“The files regarding the Jiang Tianxiao case are in the Major Crimes section of your Bureau’s archives. If you find yourself harboring even the slightest bit of goodwill toward me…” Pei Yu frowned, once again avoiding the flirtatious touch of the youth’s fingers. “…you might want to see them for yourself before you decide whether or not to tell me where Yan Lang is hiding.”

“As for the timing, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” Ignoring Pei Yu’s avoidance, Shen Xingchen reached out and traced the thin, dark-red line of dried blood on his neck. His touch was as tender as a lover’s. “I’ll give you the chance of ten digits. Think about it.”

Before he could process what “ten digits” meant, Pei Yu felt another sudden rush of wind past his ear. This time, he was prepared. His alertness was far greater than before; he jerked his head to the side, dodging the man’s striking hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

Hearing this, Shen Xingchen couldn’t suppress a laugh.

Immediately after, Pei Yu saw the youth stand up and retrieve a piece of black cloth from the table. Ignoring Pei Yu’s protests, he tied it over his eyes.

“Let’s go, Brother Pei. The rain has stopped. I’m taking you home.”