Chapter 32 – Setting Up Camp

Xue City Public Security Bureau, Archives Room.

The only desk in the room was piled high with paper files. Stacks of kraft paper envelopes teetered precariously atop one another.

In this era of digital information, everything can be converted into online data, retrievable with a simple search. Yet paper files, preserved since their inception, will never be obsolete.

Because if the database ever crashes, they can be dusted off and put to use when needed.

Xie Ning was responsible for collecting and organizing all the materials related to Yan Ru. Many old cases had been dug up in the process.

The air was thick with dust, but the scent brought Xie Ning an odd sense of comfort.

Meng Yi had once said to her with a hint of sympathy, “I could never do such meticulous work!”

Indeed, this job required infinite patience.

Luckily, patience was something Xie Ning had in abundance.

“Ten years ago… Xuehua Middle School… attempted… assault, no case filed.” Xie Ning brushed the dust off the kraft paper envelope, her delicate brows furrowing.

She did a quick calculation—ten years ago, Yan Ru would have been a student at Xuehua Middle School. Though Yan Ru’s name didn’t appear in any statements or records, Xie Ning had a gut feeling this case might not be as simple as it seemed.

Since she was already gathering all the materials related to Yan Ru, this one wouldn’t hurt to include.

Xie Ning stacked the envelope on the desk and dove back into the sea of documents.

“Still not done, Sister Ning?” Meng Yi leaned against the doorframe, slurping from a cup of instant noodles.

The smell of instant noodles filled the archives room. Xie Ning shot him a glare. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, go read a book. Don’t just stand there annoying me.”

“Hey, don’t be like that, Sister Ning!” Meng Yi stepped into the room, picking up a random file while mumbling through a mouthful of noodles. “July 16 Schoolgirl Disappearance Case… What does this have to do with Yan Ru’s case?”

Xie Ning snatched the file back. “Get out! Stop making a mess!”

Meng Yi took another sip of broth, sighed contentedly, and was about to leave when his gaze caught on the name of the missing girl from the case he’d just seen.

Fu Xiaoling.

The name sounded familiar. Where had he heard it before?

Lost in thought, Meng Yi unconsciously scrunched up his face. Under Xie Ning’s impatient urging, he finally left the archives room.

By the time we reached the campsite, it was already noon.

Though deep in the woods, the area had long since been developed. The mountaintop had a flat, open clearing covered in a thin layer of grass.

Originally barren, the spot had gradually become a camping destination as more and more stargazers pitched their tents there.

As someone once said, there were no lawns in the world—just places monkeys had grazed enough to create them.

Since it wasn’t peak stargazing season yet, our group was the only one there, making it peaceful and quiet. Wei Qinzhou assigned tents to the students, and everyone began setting them up.

I was given one too, but I had no idea how to pitch it. In the past, even if I’d needed to spend the night outdoors, a tent had been a “luxury” I’d never had the chance to use. Just as I was considering calling Gu Lanshan over, Yan Ru naturally took the tent poles from my hands, threaded them through the canvas, and efficiently set up the basic structure.

The tents were meant for two people—was he implying we’d share one?

I asked, “Are you setting this up for me, or for yourself?”

Yan Ru was crouched on the ground, hammering a tent stake into the dirt. At my words, his hand paused, though he didn’t turn around. “If you want to share with someone else, go ahead.”

Hiss… I mulled over his words. Though his tone was calm and indifferent, even accommodating, I had the inexplicable feeling that if I actually went to Gu Lanshan, Yan Ru would be furious.

I said, “Haven’t you been avoiding me these past few days?”

Yan Ru turned his head, still gripping the hammer, and looked up at me from below. My first glimpse was of his overly thick eyelashes and the depth in his ink-dark eyes. Paired with his slightly vulnerable posture, his appearance stirred something strange in my chest.

Had he ever looked at others like this before? Or was it just…

“Have I?”

He actually asked me, “Have I?”

Suppressing the urge to kick him, I laughed and scolded, “Are you the weather forecast? So unpredictable.”

Yan Ru lowered his eyes and continued working.

Soon, tents sprouted across the clearing like mushrooms after rain. Yan Ru and I shared one. Gu Lanshan had tried to squeeze in too, but the tent couldn’t fit three people.

Grumbling under his breath about “who’d want to share a tent with their boss,” Gu Lanshan was firmly ushered out by Yan Ru.

Everyone was excited about the experience. The campsite buzzed with noise as the students chased each other while setting up. The volunteer teachers patiently organized them.

Wang Yuehan was surrounded by students, learning how to weave grass into grasshoppers. Qi Youxuan quietly trailed behind Wei Qinzhou as he adjusted his camera, occasionally bending down to say something to her with a smile.

I looked up at the sky. It stretched blue and flawless like a perfectly painted canvas, without a single cloud, except for the occasional bird darting past.

Just as beautiful as I remembered.

Tonight would be perfect for stargazing.

Sure enough, as darkness fell, the stars emerged in full glory. With the right equipment, even the Milky Way would be visible.

The students, used to such sights, were more interested in Wei Qinzhou’s camera, clamoring for a turn to try it out.

Yan Ru and I stayed in the tent, the noise alone enough to kill any interest in joining.

I asked Yan Ru, “Aren’t you going to look?”

Yan Ru said, “Too many people. If I want to see, I can find another time.”

After a moment’s thought, I said, “Since we’re already out here, why not find a quiet spot to stargaze? Who knows when we’ll get another chance?”

Yan Ru turned to me, silent as our eyes met.

Just as I thought he wouldn’t agree, he nodded.

I immediately grabbed the flashlight hanging from the tent’s ceiling, shining it into the dark wilderness with exaggerated excitement. “Let’s go!”

We slipped away from the group and ventured into the woods. Not wanting to stray too far for safety reasons, we settled on a quiet slope within sight of the campsite and sat down on the grass.

I turned off the flashlight.

Yan Ru seemed surprised. In the darkness, I could barely make out his silhouette.

I explained, “You can’t see the stars with light pollution. Plus, we’re saving battery.”

Yan Ru didn’t respond.

We sat in silence, neither speaking.

Occasionally, cheers erupted from the campsite, but by the time they reached us, they were faint and indistinct.

I don’t know how much time passed before a rustling sound came from the top of the slope.

“So they really are here,” said a hoarse teenage voice.

“Brother Sun… I think we should…” someone hesitated.

“Shut up!” The voice was familiar—Zhou Xin. He snapped, “We’re already here. What are you scared of?”

Yan Ru sat up in surprise, about to speak, but I immediately covered his mouth.

If he made a sound, how could the next act play out?

I signaled for him to stay quiet with my eyes. Under the moonlight, Yan Ru’s gaze shimmered like rippling water. He nodded in agreement.

We listened to the conversation above like two owls lurking in the dark.

The terrain here was hidden, a natural slope. With the flashlight off and neither of us making a sound, no one would notice us.