At school today, the teacher gave Pei Cangyu a stack of review materials. They were prep books for the police academy entrance exams from previous years—brand new and specifically intended for him. Just as Pei Cangyu was feeling earth-shatteringly moved, the teacher informed him they had been sent by a police officer named Fei. Oh, Fei Zuohua.
Pei Cangyu’s feelings were a bit complicated. Nevertheless, he gave Fei Zuohua a call to offer his thanks. Fei Zuohua’s voice was as stern as ever, making Pei Cangyu feel quite uncomfortable. They were roughly the same age, yet Fei Zuohua always sounded like he was delivering a lecture on how to live one's life.
The police academy exams were in March of the following year, leaving him a few months to study. During this time, Pei Cangyu also needed to exercise; the physical fitness test was notoriously rigorous. Consequently, after evening self-study ended, Pei Cangyu would go to the track to run laps before heading back. When he left the school gates, Bai Shi’s car would be waiting patiently. In the desolate streets, the driver often stood under a tree, occasionally chatting with the old man at the security gate, but he never spoke to Pei Cangyu. The ride back was always silent; Pei Cangyu guessed those were Bai Shi’s instructions.
Upon his return, Bai Shi was always awake and had a late-night snack prepared for him—sometimes a stewed soup, sometimes pastries. Pei Cangyu considered that a "ruthless man" wouldn't resort to such petty tricks as poisoning, but he still took a photo of everything he ate and posted it to his social media account every night before eating with total peace of mind.
Indeed, real-time social media updates were Pei Cangyu’s chosen method of self-protection. He didn't just post what he ate; he posted where he lived, the car, and even Madara. He only refrained from posting Bai Shi because the man was unwilling to show his face. In just one day, he had posted over thirty updates. As for the attention it drew or the speculation from his classmates, he didn't care at all.
Bai Shi knew, but he said nothing.
Pei Cangyu was satisfied. At least in this regard, he had Bai Shi right where he wanted him.
When he entered the house, Bai Shi was tasting some soup. Pei Cangyu walked toward him. "Why don't you wear an apron when you cook?"
"Why should I wear an apron?" Bai Shi placed the spoon into a small side bowl.
Pei Cangyu sized Bai Shi up. He was wearing a silver-grey hoodie, the hood bunched up messily behind him, black trousers, and black slippers. His entire ensemble was dark. But his back was broad, giving off a sense of imposing power. When he reached for something, his shoulder blades shifted like a massive sea monster slapping the shore, making Pei Cangyu exceptionally wary. The man was tall with long legs, standing with a rigid, meticulous posture. He had no wasted movements and no habitual fidgets; it was as if all those minor human quirks had been smoothed away, giving Bai Shi an air of profound maturity.
Bai Shi tilted his neck slightly and glanced toward Pei Cangyu. Pei Cangyu immediately scrambled back a step. Bai Shi let out a faint, barely perceptible smile. Pei Cangyu was as alert as a bird in spring, ready to take flight at the first sound of thunder. Only after judging that Bai Shi had no further intentions did he edge closer again.
Bai Shi turned off the stove, ladled out the soup, and handed it to Pei Cangyu. Pei Cangyu took it. "Aren't you having any?"
"Do you want me to?"
"...You made it. It feels awkward if I'm the only one drinking it..."
Bai Shi ladled a bowl for himself, and the two sat down at the dining table.
At that moment, Pei Cangyu truly felt a pang of regret. Thinking back to yesterday, he had been grabbing Bai Shi by the collar and cursing him out; now, they were sitting down to drink soup in peace. Life was truly unpredictable. No, it wasn't life—it was Bai Shi who was unpredictable.
Bai Shi took a sip of the soup and looked up at Pei Cangyu. "Is it a bit salty?"
Pei Cangyu hastily took a taste and nodded. "Seems like it."
Bai Shi stood up. Pei Cangyu tensed instantly, but Bai Shi was only going to get the sugar.
He stood behind Pei Cangyu and leaned down, looming over the top of Pei Cangyu’s head as he reached across him to add sugar to the bowl. Pei Cangyu was forced to hunch down under the pressure. He gritted his teeth; *damn it, he’s definitely doing this on purpose.*
So, Pei Cangyu wriggled out from under Bai Shi’s arm, slipping away like a fish. He stood up and looked at Bai Shi with dissatisfaction. Bai Shi smiled. "Is that enough?"
Pei Cangyu snatched the sugar container from Bai Shi’s hand and pointed at Bai Shi’s chair. "You sit."
Bai Shi obediently sat down. Pei Cangyu mimicked Bai Shi’s actions, looming behind him. He stood on his tiptoes and pressed down on Bai Shi, forcing him to bend forward as he added sugar to his bowl. Pei Cangyu felt a surge of triumph. An eye for an eye; he, Pei Cangyu, was no pushover.
"That’s enough." Bai Shi turned his head and blew a breath of air against the ear of the Pei Cangyu leaning over him. Pei Cangyu’s hand jerked, and the sugar container fell onto the table, spilling everywhere. Pei Cangyu recoiled violently, his guard up, gripping his phone tightly.
Bai Shi glanced at him, smiled, and stood up to clear the table. Pei Cangyu watched his every move, only sitting back down once Bai Shi had walked away.
He just sat there, waiting until Bai Shi finished cleaning and sat down before picking up his bowl again.
Bai Shi watched him drink the soup, saying slowly, "You really are a good boy, Pei Cangyu."
Pei Cangyu set down his bowl and looked at Bai Shi. He always looked as if he were facing a great enemy, watching Bai Shi with the wariness of Madara guarding the night. Bai Shi enjoyed his vibrant, fierce gaze, finding it immensely pleasing.
After finishing his soup, Pei Cangyu washed his bowl and bolted upstairs. Following Tu Ziyun’s instructions, he lay flat on the floor and set up a small communication line. He opened the window and poked his head out to look around. Once he was sure no one was there, he placed the homemade gadget on the outer windowsill. Then, he opened the package Tu Ziyun had given him; it was actually a police communicator.
"Holy crap..." Pei Cangyu’s eyes lit up. This was far too exciting. Twenty years’ worth of police and heist movies came crashing into his head, making his blood boil with anticipation.
He followed the instructions in Tu Ziyun’s email, turned on the communicator, and adjusted the frequency. Once the static cleared, he leaned in and coughed. "2289, calling in."
He watched as the red light on the communicator instantly turned green. Although he only needed to say "2289," his cinematic experience made him feel physically ill if he didn't add a "calling in."
Pei Cangyu lay on the floor, pressing his mouth to the device, and whispered, "2289, Kingfisher, 23:46."
The green light flickered a few times, and Tu Ziyun’s voice came through. He said:
"Student Pei, I told you not to use this unless it's an emergency. Don't reply. Goodnight."
Pei Cangyu immediately replied, "Okay, understood. Goodnight."
Tu Ziyun: "..."
Pei Cangyu quickly stood up, tucked the equipment safely back into his backpack, and flopped onto his bed.
Speaking of which, Bai Shi was always home at night, but was he there during the day?
There was another thing bothering Pei Cangyu: the "four or five people" that man had mentioned that day. Why would he be unsure of the number? It wasn't like four or five cakes where one or two didn't make a difference. These were people. How could someone not distinguish between four or five people?
Perhaps it was because they killed so frequently that a single person meant nothing to them? Pei Cangyu thought of Bai Shi’s beautiful hands and frowned. Those weren't beautiful hands; they were the hands of a killer.
But "four or five left"... if they were acting at the time, shouldn't the lines have been more precise? Or rather...
Pei Cangyu sat up. Was there one more?
The four people had been drained of blood according to the method for preparing dried corpses, which would eliminate the scent of blood. However, he remembered that there had only been one puddle of blood in the third-floor cabinet. This meant the bulk of the blood wasn't there. So where was it? Could they have been processed elsewhere and then hung on the third floor?
In that case...
Pei Cangyu jumped up. There was only one place possible: the basement.
He took a few steps, but his foot throbbed with pain. Looking down, he saw he had rubbed a blister raw. He must have run too hard at school today. Forget it, ignore it for now.
Pei Cangyu shoved his phone into his pocket and prepared to go downstairs. He pulled open the door; the hallway was silent. It seemed Bai Shi had gone to sleep as well. Speaking of which, where on earth had Madara gone?
Pei Cangyu was familiar with the layout now and didn't even need a flashlight. He walked straight down the stairs, pausing at the landing. Hearing nothing, he headed toward the basement. As he passed the kitchen, a soft voice called out.
"What are you looking for?"
Pei Cangyu was startled. *Damn it, how can he be so silent?*
He turned around. Bai Shi was drinking water, dressed in pajamas. It seemed he had just come down for a drink. He was leaning against the table, his hair a bit messy, looking at him calmly.
Pei Cangyu lowered his head and pointed at his bare feet. "Do you have any medicine? My foot is hurt."
Bai Shi set down his glass and walked over. Pei Cangyu stood rigid as he watched him, but Bai Shi only stared at his foot. He crouched down in front of him, inspected it carefully, then looked up. "I do. Wait here."
Pei Cangyu didn't know which room Bai Shi went into, but he returned carrying a medical kit. He pointed upstairs. "Let's go up."
Pei Cangyu saw that his plan for tonight was likely ruined, so he followed him up. As they passed Bai Shi’s room, Pei Cangyu had a sudden whim. "Let's just do it here. My foot hurts too much, haha."
Bai Shi looked at his own room with some hesitation. "There are no lights in my room. If it hurts that much..." He moved toward Pei Cangyu as if he were about to pick him up. Pei Cangyu scrambled back in a panic. "That won't be necessary. It doesn't hurt *that* much."
He limped toward his own room, and Bai Shi tilted his head but followed behind him anyway.
Pei Cangyu took the medical kit from Bai Shi and began cleaning his foot according to the method Fei Zuohua had taught him. As he slowly applied the medicine, Bai Shi stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching the entire time. Pei Cangyu looked up. "Why don't you go back? I'll just leave this here when I'm done and put it back tomorrow?"
Bai Shi smiled. "No need. I'm not busy."
"Oh..." Pei Cangyu ran out of things to say. This unspoken mutual wariness, this hiding of secrets from one another, was maintained entirely by the fragile, subtle friendship they had formed in middle school. Otherwise, he would be nothing to Bai Shi, and Bai Shi wouldn't indulge him to this extent. Similarly, Bai Shi would be nothing to him; he wouldn't risk his life just to catch a criminal. Indeed, behind all his righteous desires, it was because it was *Bai Shi* that Pei Cangyu wanted to get involved.
His mind wandered, and he accidentally scraped the skin. He hissed in pain. Bai Shi moved as if to step forward, but ultimately stayed put.
Pei Cangyu twisted his body to look at his heel. There was a blister there that hadn't been popped yet, and for some reason, a small pebble was lodged inside. He pulled his leg toward him, shifting angles to try and pick the pebble out, but even after his joints popped a few times, he couldn't find the right leverage.
"Let me."
Pei Cangyu had guessed Bai Shi would say that. He had also prepared to refuse, but when he actually heard the offer, Pei Cangyu went still. He nodded. Without looking up, he saw those feet walking toward him. The spot on the bed beside him dipped, making him float upward slightly, like a leaf tossed by a wave at sea. Pei Cangyu regretted choosing to sit on the bed; he had only done it because it was large and easy to spread out all the medical supplies.
Cold hands grasped his ankle and pulled it toward Bai Shi. Pei Cangyu never looked up, so he kept his eyes fixed on those hands as they lanced the blister, wiped it clean, applied medicine, and wrapped it in a bandage. His foot rested against Bai Shi’s thigh, brushing the edge of his pajamas. Occasionally, when Bai Shi turned to reach for something, his heel almost touched something further in—something lurking. He wanted to pull his foot back, but he was held firm, so he didn't move.
Kind hands helped him treat his wound, never showing a hint of impatience. No matter how Pei Cangyu thought about it, he had never met anyone so patient with him, so gentle, so compliant—except for the Bai Shi of middle school, particularly during those last two months. Pei Cangyu was a common man, and he knew it; he was the type to believe kind words. Between a gruff person who meant well and a gentle person who might be bad, Pei Cangyu would likely choose the latter as a friend. He was well aware of this flaw, and he had been burned by it more than once. But... some people are just born longing for tenderness. What could be done? Pei Cangyu’s life lacked such gentleness. Righteous people were always so irritable; aggrieved people were always so aggressive. He didn't know where else to find a bit of kind speech. Perhaps he was naturally thin-skinned, but what was wrong with wanting others to speak to him with warmth?
Even if...
But...
Pei Cangyu stared at Bai Shi’s hands.
Kind hands...
No. A killer.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 翠鸟 | Kingfisher | Pei Cangyu's police code name. |
| 2289 | 2289 | Pei Cangyu's police identification/call sign. |
| 惊蛰 | Awakening of Insects | One of the 24 solar terms in the lunar calendar, signifying the start of spring when insects wake up. |
| 警用通讯器 | Police communicator | A specialized radio/device given to Pei by Tu Ziyun. |
