Chapter 83: He is like a sword, like all deadly weapons.
“He gave me a bouquet of flowers. He looked so good back then, so young, he stood out among millions of people.”
Qin Ge was stunned.
He quickly turned to the first page.
This was Xie Zijing’s handwriting, he recognized it.
“Qin Ge said I might lose the memory of being with him and everyone in the Adjustment Department. To be precise, the memory doesn’t disappear; it just can’t immediately become content that I truly remember. They will be scattered in my ‘sea area’ until I get some trigger to gather them again.
Even though I read so many books on sea research, I still don’t quite understand. But Qin Ge is very scared. My comfort is useless. If what we’re worried about really happens, Xie Zijing, this is what you wrote yourself, please remember every single detail.
My lover is Qin Ge. Although I never told him, I’ve already made the decision in my heart.
I’m a dispensable person in the Adjustment Department, but to Qin Ge, I should be very important. Of course, he is equally important to me.”
Xie Zijing circled the words “Adjustment Department” and drew an arrow to the side, writing two names: Bai Xiaoyuan, Tang Cuo.
“I’ve known Qin Ge for a long time. At the Skills Competition, he gave me a bouquet of flowers. He looked so good back then, so young, that he stood out among millions of people. I once placed that bouquet in the sea and kept it. It has extraordinary significance for both me and Qin Ge, you have to remember.”
Qin Ge heard Xie Weiran say beside him that she was going to get the car. He nodded hastily and turned the page. Xie Zijing’s writing was too large and messy. His vision was blurred by tears, and in the hurriedly written notes by the sentinel, he slowly traced back the process of his acquaintance with Xie Zijing.
“…I never had a relationship with him. I am very sad and regretful. But the feelings aren’t fake, even if they once were, placed in my mind by someone else, but now it’s different.
Qin Ge’s name sounds very nice. I hope you remember that. When no one is home, I like to call his name. Of course, I don’t get a response. But just his name is enough to make me happy.
He is like a blade, like all deadly weapons. But he is also very gentle. He is always gentle with me.”
Some things Xie Zijing wrote, Qin Ge didn’t even remember. He covered his mouth, and his brows uncontrollably furrowed. The tears were born not out of sorrow or sadness but a more complex emotion. Qin Ge even recalled the evening when Xie Zijing leaned against the door of the Adjustment Department, smiling at him. The sunset in Beijing was so bright, his sentinel seemed to be surrounded by a layer of golden light.
“Don’t make him sad, don’t upset him. If everything is really hard to remember, don’t treat him like a stranger.
He has many sad things in his heart, he only tells me. We, I mean me and you, the future you, the you reading this notebook now, don’t bully him. There are already enough bad things, for both him and me. Living happily is good, that’s my only wish.”
Only then did Qin Ge feel a trace of anger.
Xie Zijing didn’t do it— the current Xie Zijing didn’t fully follow the instructions of the past Xie Zijing. He knew everything, knew the feelings between the two of them, yet he pretended to be ignorant, watching him make a fool of himself again and again.
Hurried footsteps came from the forest, stopping a few steps away. Qin Ge wiped his eyes hard and looked up at Xie Zijing.
Xie Zijing was nervous and awkward, looking at him, then at the small notebook in his hand.
He made Qin Ge sad. This hit Xie Zijing heavily at first, then he realized his own mood was unprecedentedly low as well.
“I’m sorry,” Xie Zijing said hurriedly.
Qin Ge stood up with the notebook in hand, his anger infinitely magnified at the sight of Xie Zijing, overwhelming all previous emotions. He wanted to throw the notebook at Xie Zijing, but at the last moment, he couldn’t bear to. He ended up throwing it to the ground and turning away.
Xie Zijing grabbed Qin Ge’s hand: “Qin Ge, I’m sorry…”
The wrist he touched was burning hot. Qin Ge was now like a roasted chestnut, ready to explode at any moment.
“Is it fun to lie to me?” Qin Ge shouted, “Don’t touch me!”
Xie Zijing didn’t let go, stubbornly pulling Qin Ge toward his chest. Qin Ge immediately became furious. He bent his other arm and slammed it hard on Xie Zijing’s shoulder. Xie Zijing stepped back in pain, and Qin Ge used the momentum to push him to the ground.
“Do you enjoy watching me being played by you every day?” Qin Ge grabbed his collar, staring at him with red eyes, “Taking advantage of my love for you… No, I don’t like you anymore. I hate you!”
Xie Zijing didn’t pay attention to what he was saying. His guide had red eyes, whether from anger or sadness was unclear. He raised his hand and touched Qin Ge’s face.
Qin Ge was stunned, and almost instantly, tears welled up in his wide eyes.
“I… I just wanted to confirm,” Xie Zijing tried his best to explain, “Even though it’s written down, I don’t feel it. I asked Bai Xiaoyuan and Tang Cuo, I even asked Lei Chi, but they wouldn’t say anything. You told them not to, didn’t you?”
Qin Ge blinked, a tiny tear falling onto Xie Zijing’s face.
“You should have reminded me. If I forget, you must try everything to remind me.” Xie Zijing looked into his eyes, “Qin Ge, I have no sense of this world, my memory stops at the eighteen years before Luquan. But ten years have passed. Everything I experienced in these ten years, I have to remember bit by bit. Many things depend on others to tell me. It’s not that I don’t trust them, but… you’re different.”
Xie Zijing’s fingers pressed at the corner of Qin Ge’s wet eyes.
“You’re different. You’ll always be different from others… I know this even without looking at the notebook.” He spoke slowly, “I wanted to verify what the notebook said. I wanted to make you aware of my connection to this new world. I’m sorry, I didn’t do it well… Please don’t hate me, okay?”
Qin Ge remained silent. Xie Zijing continued, “You liked the old Xie Zijing, so you can also like the current me, can’t you?”
“…You’re not him.” Qin Ge let go, got up, and walked away without looking back.
Xie Zijing slowly sat up, then slowly picked up the notebook. There were a few water stains on the inside pages. He looked at them, closed the notebook, feeling extremely aggrieved: I am him.
On the way back, Xie Weiran held the steering wheel, not daring to make a sound.
Qin Ge sat in the passenger seat, bowing his head as if asleep as soon as he got in. Xie Zijing slipped into the back seat, also silent.
Her crab at the front of the car happily changed colors between red and green, still unable to warm up the atmosphere.
Xie Weiran simply put the crab away, pretending to drive seriously and looking straight ahead.
In the crisis office, Lei Chi looked at Xiaohai’s mother, then at the Captain.
Captain: “Don’t swear, this is the leader from headquarters; he was the one protecting your son when he got hit.”
“Leader?” The child’s mother looked Lei Chi up and down and said, “So young?”
The Captain handed Xiaohai’s file to Lei Chi, saying he was preparing to go to the fishing port. The people investigating at the fishing port seemed to have found some new clues, he wanted to see the site himself.
Only the three of them were left in the office. Xiaohai’s mother carefully examined her son’s injuries, while Lei Chi listened to their low conversation and opened the file.
The child’s mother was named Zhang Qian, an ordinary unmarried person. Lei Chi was shocked to see “foster mother” written on the mother-child relationship.
“…Please sit down,” Lei Chi said, “Wait a bit longer, until the people outside disperse, I’ll take you back.”
Zhang Qian saw Lei Chi lingering on the first page of the file and said, “I picked him up.”
Lei Chi: “…”
Is it okay to say this in front of the child?! He couldn’t help but glance at Xiaohai. Xiaohai nodded seriously, unconcerned.
Lei Chi was annoyed: “Xiaohai knows he’s adopted?”
Zhang Qian: “Yes, I don’t hide it from him. No, I picked him up.”
Lei Chi: “Where did you pick him up?”
Zhang Qian: “In the back alley, on the garbage can lid, he was so small back then. It was raining, he was crying weakly. I felt so sorry for him, so I took him back to the shop.”
Lei Chi: “What do you do?”
Zhang Qian pulled out a cigarette, then remembered she couldn’t smoke here, so she just held it between her fingers. “Me? I used to work the streets, but now I’m a chef in a restaurant.”
Lei Chi looked up again. Zhang Qian’s frankness in front of Xiaohai surprised him. The mother and son sat on a bench, Zhang Qian holding a cigarette in one hand and Xiaohai’s hand in the other, her eyes fixed on Lei Chi. There was no plea or shame in her gaze, just a hint of defiance.
Zhang Qian hadn’t had much education in her youth. She left her village to go to work when she was just a teenager. The factory work was plentiful but low-paying, and she was often harassed. Her fiery temper led her to fight back a few times, and she was eventually fired. With nowhere to go, she followed other girls into the hair salons, where they started doing business. Unlike others, her combative nature often attracted trouble. Zhang Qian never backed down; whoever hit her, she hit back.
“You give me money, I make you happy. It’s a transaction, but no one is better than the other.” This theory of hers was sometimes laughed at and sometimes revered among the girls in the hair salon street.
Finding Xiaohai was an accident. After finishing business, she heard the faint cry of a child in the rain behind the shop while smoking.
Although she noticed the fine symmetrical scars on the baby’s face, Zhang Qian only assumed he had been beaten by his parents. The baby was crying weakly and pitifully. The shop owner said he was likely less than three months old, so tiny and frail that he might not survive long.
Zhang Qian had recently aborted a pregnancy. She couldn’t bear to leave this weakly crying baby, so she took him to the hospital that night.
Blood tests, hospitalization. The doctor, looking at the test results, was astonished: this is a sea child born in our hospital two months ago!
Zhang Qian was confused: “What’s a sea child?”
After half a month in the hospital, costing her thousands of yuan, Zhang Qian’s savings for going straight were depleted again. She asked the doctor what would happen to the sea child if no one wanted him. The doctor said, although they had notified the child’s mother, she and her family had completely lost contact. If no one claimed the child, he would be sent to an orphanage.
On the day the sea child was discharged, Zhang Qian was irritable, arguing with customers one after another, until the boss threatened to kick her out. She sat in the back alley smoking, one cigarette after another, until half a pack was gone. Then, she went to the hospital.
A familiar customer forged a document showing she had a proper job. Soon, Zhang Qian brought the sea child back from the orphanage.
Everyone in the shop knew she had adopted a son, a boy with dark skin and bright eyes, who would grow up to be handsome.
Occasionally, Zhang Qian would take Xiaohai to the shop, but most of the time, she left him with people from her village, picking him up after work. Xiaohai was very smart, learning many words quickly. He often waited at the village entrance with a small flashlight, running to her as soon as he saw her.
Zhang Qian started saving money earnestly, wanting Xiaohai to have a good education and future. They lived in a small house where they could hear the distant sound of the waves.
After Xiaohai started primary school, Zhang Qian found a legitimate job. With enough savings for a few years, she started as an apprentice chef under a cook. Knowing she was a single mother, the restaurant staff often gave her extra care. A year, two years, and soon a decade passed. Zhang Qian had become the head chef of the restaurant.
“Recently, several women among those ‘special humans’ have been killed, right?” Zhang Qian said. “I heard about it from some old acquaintances.”
Lei Chi didn’t expect to get clues from her and asked casually, “What do you know?”
“It was when I took Xiaohai to the hospital. I learned there were ‘special humans.’ I never knew before. The doctor said the most common are sentinels and guides. Some women, without proper jobs, also work the streets like me, making good money. People are curious, you know, special humans, special women. They wonder if they’re different from ordinary women.” Zhang Qian laughed. “It’s funny. What’s special or not, everyone is the same when it comes to money.”
Zhang Qian had heard about something else from her old acquaintances.
Many of them had returned home or found other jobs, but a few still lived on the street, running new shops as proper bosses.
There were still underground sex workers, more hidden now, and clients had to use specific passwords, like secret agents meeting.
Without the password, no one would serve the client; to the girls, these clients were strangers, potential dangers.
“The women who died, they took all kinds of clients, not charging much. If a client paid more, they’d go with them.” Zhang Qian said, “That’s very dangerous. If you don’t know how to protect yourself, it can be fatal.”
“What do you mean by all kinds of clients?”
“Poor, bad-tempered, violent.” Zhang Qian smiled. “I’ve met such people. They think every word and action of yours is disrespectful. If they don’t beat you up, they feel they’re not real men. But I was lucky, strong, and fearless. I could fight back. But for other girls, it’s hard to say.”
Lei Chi was silent.
From the case files, it was easy to see the killer’s character. The brutal and resentful treatment of the bodies suggested hatred. But this hatred wasn’t aimed at a specific person; it was directed at female special humans.
The killer harbored intense hatred and murderous intent toward female special humans, among whom there were guides and half-zombies.
Among them, the most accessible and least wary were sex workers.
But why did the killer also murder a Lao Cha and a regular white-collar worker?
Lao Chas were weak and often considered ugly. What satisfaction did the killer get from killing one?
Lei Chi opened the file again, focusing this time on the young white-collar worker.
In the photo, the girl had a gentle expression, with long hair draped over her shoulders. Her life was different from the other victims; apart from work, she spent time at home with her pets. Her travels this year were all work-related.
Her last trip was to an island for business with colleagues.
She was the second victim.
Lei Chi pondered over the file, Zhang Qian and Xiaohai watching him in silence. After a while, Zhang Qian broke the silence: “Leader, are you a sentinel or a guide?”
“I’m a werewolf,” Lei Chi said. “You can call me Captain Lei.”
Zhang Qian was surprised again, “A werewolf?”
Lei Chi explained the meaning and current status of werewolves to her. The mother was clearly stunned, looking at Lei Chi and then at Xiaohai.
“I thought only Sentinels and Guides could study and work,” Zhang Qian said, for the first time showing a hint of timidity. “Leader… Captain Lei, you, you’ve been to school, right?”
Lei Chi closed the case file, having anticipated Zhang Qian’s question.
“I graduated from a special school for special humans. There are two higher education institutions in the country for special humans: New Hope Advanced Management Academy and the Talent Planning Bureau,” Lei Chi explained. “New Hope only admits Sentinels and Guides, while the Talent Planning Bureau accepts all types of special humans without segregating by species. I graduated from the Talent Planning Bureau.”
He glanced at Xiaohai, who was listening attentively.
“As far as I know, the Talent Planning Bureau rarely admits sea children,” he said. “But Xiaohai can give it a try.”
Zhang Qian was both excited and hesitant. “But… but Xiaohai hasn’t even finished middle school.”
“He just needs the equivalent academic level,” Lei Chi said. He remembered the well-read mermaid leader. The books the leader had read were undoubtedly found by Xiaohai, indicating that Xiaohai’s academic level was likely beyond elementary school.
A sudden warmth surged in Lei Chi’s heart. He realized that, just as Zhang Qian had changed Xiaohai’s fate over a decade ago, he now had the opportunity to change this child’s future.
“Do you want to go to the Talent Planning Bureau?” Lei Chi asked Xiaohai. “Do you want to work in research on special humans?”
“I… I want to study marine biology,” Xiaohai said, gripping Zhang Qian’s hand tightly, clearly nervous. “I’ve read some books… I can dive deep into the ocean for long periods, and most marine creatures aren’t afraid of me. I have this advantage.”
Lei Chi looked at him, seeing a determined and eager soul.
“Very good.” He stood up. “I’ll help you find out. Here’s my contact information; keep it.”
At that moment, the office door suddenly opened. The newcomer, seeing the squad leader absent, hesitated. “Captain Lei.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Quan Nu has arrived at the airport and will probably be here around seven tonight. I need to confirm the security procedures with the squad leader.”
Lei Chi realized he had almost forgotten about Quan Nu. “The squad leader is at the fishing port. Call him.”
Thinking of Quan Nu and his research, Lei Chi suddenly turned to Xiaohai. “Do you know Quan Nu?”
“I’ve read about him in books.”
“You’re close with the mermaid leader, right?”
Xiaohai blinked and nodded slowly, showing a shy habit Lei Chi noticed: the gills on his face would unconsciously move, as if breathing rapidly from nervousness.
“Quan Nu needs your help,” Lei Chi smiled. “If his signature is on the recommendation letter to the Talent Planning Bureau, your chances of getting accepted will be much higher.”
Just as he finished speaking, the office door opened again.
“Captain Lei, there’s a special situation,” said the young man who entered, looking hesitant.
“What is it?”
“A rare special human has been sent to the Crisis Office,” the young man said, looking troubled. “But he’s so rare that we don’t know how to handle him.”
Lei Chi frowned, following him out while casually asking, “How rare? Rarer than a Lao cha and a sea child?”
“Only one of his kind in the country.”
Lei Chi stopped abruptly. “A Qing Meizi?!”
A young man with tattoo-like patterns on his forehead sat in the reception room, flipping through a copy of “Crisis Office Elegance” with interest.
“I don’t like this kind of tea,” he said to the girl in the room with a smile. “Do you have flower tea? I’ve been eating too much rich food lately and want something lighter.”
The girl replied, “Teacher Qing Meizi, can you sign my book?”
“Of course,” Qingmeizi said.
After reading an interview in the internal magazine, there was a sudden thud on the table.
The girl brought over more than thirty books, handing him a pen with excitement.
“Are you planning to sell my signed books?” Qing Meizi asked. “I don’t support fans reselling signed books at high prices.”
The girl replied, “These are all our Crisis Office’s collection, all your books, including the out-of-print ’30 Days on 30 Yuan’ from five years ago!”
Qing Meizi was touched. “I didn’t expect you to like me so much…”
The girl replied, “Not exactly. We often catch online fortune-telling scams and street fortune-telling frauds, and they all have a copy of your book. Your book’s phrases are often used by scammers.”
Qing Meizi was unsure if the enthusiastic girl was praising or insulting him, his pen hovering over the paper without making a mark.
Lei Chi squeezed through the crowded doorway. Seeing him, Qingmeizi’s face lit up with a smile. “Hello, Xiao Lei.”
“Why are you in trouble again?” Lei Chi asked.
“I was at the pedestrian street buying milk tea. A young man said he wouldn’t charge me if I signed my name. I signed, but his boss didn’t honor it and accused me of playing with his employee’s feelings.”
Lei Chi asked, “Did you play with him?”
Qing Meizi replied, “I just signed my name, isn’t that playing?”
Lei Chi asked, “Where did you sign?”
Qing Meizi answered, “Below his navel.”
“You’re a piece of trash,” Lei Chi said, scratching his head. “But you came at the right time. I need you to write a letter for me.”
Qing Meizi, while signing in an unreadable script on the book’s flyleaf, asked, “A love letter? Sure, I’ll give a 10% discount for old friends, 900 yuan.”
“A recommendation letter,” Lei Chi said. “To help a sea child get into the Talent Planning Bureau.”
The young man was stunned, leaning in closer to Lei Chi. “A sea child? This is a good deed.”
Lei Chi nodded repeatedly.
Qingmeizi said, “3000 yuan for one letter.”
