Chapter 2 – Pause

Xue City Square sits at the heart of the city’s liveliest district. The musical fountain has turned it into a favorite gathering spot where young people to date, capture photos, and share their moments online. If not for strict government control, it would undoubtedly become the preferred territory for lively middle-aged and elderly women practicing their square dances.

Just as dawn broke, the rare winter morning light pierced through the clouds and the cold steel high-rises, precisely illuminating the Shepherd Girl Statue at the center of the square—a clever design by the statue’s creator, adding a touch of romance to the place.

The statue was carved from white marble, with all the natural impurities skillfully concentrated in the head, forming jet-black hair.

At that moment, a beam of sunlight fell on the crook of the Shepherd Girl’s arm, gilding the edges of the vibrant roses she held, making them shimmer in the early morning light.

Soon, passing commuters noticed the strikingly out-of-place bouquet of roses.

“Look at that!” A girl tugged at her companion’s sleeve, pointing at the splash of red against the pristine white statue.

Strangely, the romantic and vibrant roses only deepened the solemn expressions on their faces. They exchanged glances before cautiously approaching the statue. The moment they stepped onto its base, an intense, pungent smell of blood assaulted their senses!

The girl’s eyes widened in horror, and she instinctively gasped, “Ah! It’s that—”

“The Rose Killer!”

He said his name was Yan Ru.

A strange feeling rose in my chest—his name sent a jolt through my heart, as if I’d heard it somewhere before.

I racked my brain but couldn’t recall where.

The air felt stifling. My heart pounded so hard it made breathing difficult. Maybe it was because the train compartment was too stuffy, even though the air conditioning was running at full blast.

I undid the top button of my shirt.

Just then, I caught Yan Ru sneaking a glance at me from the corner. When I met his gaze, he looked away as if nothing had happened.

Since there was nothing else to do, chatting with someone would be a good way to pass the time.

I set my backpack down, settling comfortably into the booth. “I didn’t expect a train ride to turn into such a hassle. I’m heading to Xue City for work. How about you?”

Yan Ru leisurely swallowed a bite of bok choy before replying, “Just small-time street vending. Nothing major.”

His voice was pleasant, like a low-pitched musical instrument.

Intrigued, I leaned forward slightly, resting my arms on the table. “That’s great! Being your own boss means freedom and money! Much better than being a wage slave like me.”

Yan Ru gave a perfunctory smile, tugging at the slightly rolled collar of his polo shirt. His tone was neither servile nor overbearing. “Just scraping by. Not exactly raking it in.”

We chatted idly for a bit, and I gathered that he was a small-time vendor in Xue City. Beyond that, he was vague, as if unwilling to share more.

Probably just cautious around strangers. It’s always good to be careful when traveling.

“Excuse me, is the door still not open?”

Just as we were talking, the ponytailed girl from the booth behind me walked toward the compartment door and asked the male attendant.

As she passed by, a slip of paper fluttered out of her pocket and landed right at my feet.

I bent to pick it up—it was a Polaroid photo. In it was a very young man with striking features, grinning broadly at the camera, showing off eight pearly white teeth. He wore a long white coat, with only a glimpse of black trousers visible, as if he worked in some kind of research field.

This boy… looked so familiar. I felt like I’d seen him somewhere before.

No, I definitely had.

And he was important.

But my mind was blank, only this strange certainty of instinct.

I couldn’t remember.

The attendant apologized to the girl. “Very soon, just five more minutes. The power control room is being fixed. We’re so sorry for the inconvenience.”

The girl waved it off. As she turned back, I called out to her, holding up the photo. “Hey, is this yours? It fell out just now.”

The girl stared at the photo in my hand, startled. Her hands instinctively dove into her pockets to search.

Of course, she found nothing.

She let out a relieved sigh, offering a strained smile. “Yes, it’s mine! Thank you so much—I would’ve lost it otherwise.”

I handed the photo back, feigning casualness. “Is this your boyfriend?”

The girl carefully tucked the photo into the chest pocket of her shirt, patting it gently to ensure it wouldn’t fall out again. She nodded, lowering her eyes. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

But as she spoke, her expression was odd—on the verge of tears. The mole beneath her eye made her look like she might burst into tears at any moment.¹In East Asian physiognomy, a mole directly under the eye is often called a tear mole and “predicts” a life filled with hardships and crying.

Yan Ru turned his gaze toward us.

I said, “So you’re heading to Xue City to see him… Oh, sorry if that’s too personal. Feel free to ignore me. Just trying to pass the time while we’re stuck here.”

The girl pressed her lips together and sat gingerly at the edge of the booth. “Yeah, we haven’t seen each other in a while. I’m… going to Xue City to meet him.”

Shouldn’t reuniting with a lover be a happy occasion? Why did she look so dejected?

She didn’t seem happy at all.

“Your boyfriend looks really familiar. Is he in the public security system? I work with them a lot—maybe I’ve seen him before.” I paused, then added, “I’m Qin Yuezhang. I’m in psychology research.”

“Qi Youxuan,” she introduced herself. “He’s not a cop. My boyfriend and I work in R&D at Weiyao Technology.”

The moment she said “Weiyao Technology,” I noticed Yan Ru’s fingers twitch reflexively—an unconscious reaction triggered by that specific phrase.

In this era of knowledge-based economies, mastering cutting-edge technology means endless wealth. Weiyao Technology is a leading example of China’s high-tech industry—everyone knows about it.

Because Weiyao was founded in Xue City and still has its headquarters there, the city has even hosted several tech summits in recent years, riding on its coattails.

I raised an eyebrow, feeling an inexplicable annoyance, but said, “Impressive! I really admire researchers like you—so sharp! This train ride’s already worth it. Maybe you can give us a tour of Weiyao’s headquarters someday, right, Yan Ru?”

Yan Ru gave a noncommittal nod and didn’t engage. His handsome face showed no expression—his thin eyelids drooped slightly, his eyes showing no trace of surprise, admiration, or envy. It was as if “Weiyao Technology” was completely insignificant to him.

No, more accurately, it was as if he had no idea what Weiyao Technology was, so he had no reaction.

But how was that possible? Weiyao has been dominating headlines for years. Though privately owned, its brand recognition is nationwide—even young kids and the elderly can chat about it.

Just as I was puzzling over this, the train lurched violently, as if it had hit something, accompanied by a loud clang. Then, I distinctly felt the speed dropping.

I lifted the curtain—the scenery outside slowed, then lazily froze in the window.

The train had stopped.

Can’t even take a train in peace.

The attendant announced, “It’s normal for trains to stop temporarily for various reasons. Please don’t worry—we’ll do our best to get you to your destination on time.”

The moment he finished speaking, a crisp beep sounded in all our ears.

The compartment door creaked open.

The attendant smiled in relief. “Passengers, the doors are now open. You may return to your seats if you wish—please watch your step.”

Qi Youxuan stood slowly and smiled at us. “I’ll head back to my seat now.”

I waved casually.

They say you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Compared to the cramped, noisy compartment with its orange-peel-and-saliva atmosphere, the dining car was practically paradise!

I’d much rather stay here a little longer—at least there was a handsome guy to talk to.

But to my surprise, Yan Ru also gathered his things and stood, as if he was leaving too.

I tried to stop him. “You’re not staying?”

I thought we’d hit it off!

Only when he stood did I realize Yan Ru was tall, probably half a head taller than me. (I wasn’t eager to stand and confirm it.)

Which made me wonder again. With his good looks, decent build, and the hint of muscle under that polo shirt, why settle for street vending?

Yan Ru looked down at me, his dark eyes faintly mocking. “You’re so good at talking—I’m sure you’ll find someone else to chat up. No shortage of conversation partners, right?”

I froze.

What did he mean by that?

I watched his retreating back and that ill-fitting polo shirt, mulling it over.

Was he mad? Or did he just find me annoying?

Whatever. Just killing time with small talk anyway.

I glanced around—the dining car was nearly empty. Feeling awkward about lingering here needlessly, I returned my tray and got ready to head back to my compartment.

As I passed through the aisle, I noticed the man who’d been slumped over the table since I arrived.

He hadn’t moved an inch—still in the same position, face-down, only the back of his head visible. If not for the faint rise and fall of his back as he breathed, I’d have wondered if he’d quietly died of some sudden illness.

How could his arms not be numb after lying like that for so long? But best not to invite trouble.

With that thought, I continued on my way back to my compartment.

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  In East Asian physiognomy, a mole directly under the eye is often called a tear mole and “predicts” a life filled with hardships and crying.