Taking into account her advanced age, the police maintained surveillance until the following morning before taking her into custody. None of her children woke up as early as the old lady. The daughter-in-law, coming downstairs in a daze to get a drink of water, caught sight of the police cruiser, let out a shriek, and immediately triggered a chaotic uproar among the family. Grandma Mei herself, however, remained thoroughly calm and detached throughout. She complied submissively as she accompanied the police into the vehicle. Once they arrived at the station, she didn’t beat around the bush either, candidly confessing to her crimes without a shred of hesitation.
Hu Zheng’s wife had originally been blending seamlessly into the crowd of Mei Lili’s relatives. Upon hearing that the old man had been murdered, that Mei Lili was the killer, and that Luo Sui was an accomplice, she tried and failed to suppress a laugh. She slipped out her phone, intending to broadcast the good news to her friends and family, only to have her hair violently yanked by Mei Lili’s daughter-in-law. The ensuing physical brawl was a few degrees more chaotic than the previous altercation between her and Lan Lan.
Zhao Wu dumped this entire mess onto Vice Captain Mai to handle, offering a thoroughly dignified excuse: Lan Lan was still lying in the hospital. Having been resuscitated the previous day, she was waking up today, and they needed to record her statement.
However, considering that Lan Lan had only just been pulled back from the brink of death, the police did not intend to interrogate her first thing in the morning. The questioning was scheduled for the afternoon, giving the patient ample time to rest.
“Alright, I understand.”
Inside the hotel, Huo Ranyin received a call from Zhao Wu. After a brief, two-sentence exchange, he promptly hung up.
“We are going to the hospital to see Lan Lan at three in the afternoon. There are no complications on Grandma Mei’s end, so we don’t need to visit the station today.”
“Then where are we going?” Ji Xun asked, glancing at the time. “It’s only nine-thirty in the morning.”
“Don’t you want to sleep a bit longer?” Huo Ranyin inquired.
Conditioned by his lasting impression of Ji Xun constantly suffering from insomnia—to the point where he could cosplay as a national treasure without any makeup—Huo Ranyin preferred to see him get as much sleep as possible whenever they had free time, even though he himself adhered to an ironclad routine of sleeping early and rising early. Unless it was absolutely necessary, he was loath to disturb Ji Xun’s rest.
“A philosopher once said: Why sleep long in life, when you will sleep for eternity in death? I happen to agree entirely,” Ji Xun replied.
“……” Huo Ranyin was speechless.
“Alright, even if we don’t have to go to the police station, we might as well take a stroll around Qin City. Let’s find a craft workshop and do some wood carving. You promised me before that you’d carve something for me,” Ji Xun said, leaping up from the mattress. However, with his arm still encased in a plaster cast, the movement was awkward; he made it halfway up before tumbling back down, landing squarely into Huo Ranyin’s embrace.
Both of them sharply inhaled.
Ji Xun was the first to speak: “Did I hit your back?”
“No.” Huo Ranyin seemed to pointedly add, “In fact, it’s practically healed. What about your arm? Does it still hurt?”
“It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it’s completely immobile,” Ji Xun answered.
Both men, exceptionally skilled in the art of observation, fell into a brief silence after answering each other’s questions.
Since neither was in pain, why had they both gasped just now?
What else could it be.
It could be summed up in twelve words:
Young and vigorous, full of vitality, igniting at the slightest touch.
By the end of March, the trees in Qin City had sprouted new branches and put forth fresh buds. Even the blossoms had bloomed and fallen. Taking a leisurely walk down the street, one could see the cold, gray asphalt draped in bands of pinkish-white. It felt as though, in the blink of an eye, the bleak and austere winter had hidden itself away, replaced once more by a thriving spring filled with singing birds and fragrant flowers.
Stepping out of the hotel, the two of them found a shop on the street front named “Pure Woodworking Studio.” Since it was early morning, there were no other customers inside besides the staff. Following a brief conversation with the clerk, they were quickly seated at a table by the window. The clerk brought over an assortment of wood blocks for them to evaluate and practice on.
A woodworking shop inevitably contained sharp tools. Ji Xun had his own method of coping; he stood directly beside Huo Ranyin with his back against the table and his face toward the window. Fortuitously, right outside the window stood a beautiful late-blooming cherry blossom tree in full, radiant bloom. Its vibrant pink canopy filled the view, looking exactly as though the window frame had captured a living, thriving tree within a picture frame.
He shifted his gaze slightly, looking down at Huo Ranyin, who had already seated himself.
Huo Ranyin was currently evaluating the timber. He approached everything he did with a characteristic rigor. The clerk had brought over a basket of wood pieces varying in size, and he had emptied them all onto the table, aligning them neatly. His long, elegant fingers tapped across the wood pieces one by one, like a pianist striking keys, before he finally selected two blocks.
These two pieces of wood were identical in size, belonged to the same species, and even featured remarkably similar grain patterns.
“Do you prefer an Eastern-style doll or a Western-style doll?” Huo Ranyin asked Ji Xun.
He did not look up, his attention remaining entirely anchored to the wood in his hands, his gaze cool and sharp with focus.
“Hmm…… either is fine. What about you? Whichever is easier for you to carve.”
“Today is just a trial run. I’ll need to practice more later,” Huo Ranyin replied as he picked up a carving knife.
The moment the blade made contact with the wood, curling away the very first shaving, Ji Xun’s heart gave a sympathetic twitch, as though the knife had traced a line across his own body.
His ears kept him acutely aware of the blade’s presence, and from the corner of his eye, he could catch the glint of cold steel. The sharp edges scraped against his nerves, forcing him to stop turning his head and instead focus his gaze entirely on Huo Ranyin.
Since they didn’t need to head straight to the station today, Huo Ranyin had opted for a more casual look. He hadn’t used any hair gel; his naturally dark hair, usually slicked back, now fell loosely. Most of it was tucked behind his ears, while a few stray strands brushed against his cheek.
“Let’s go with Western-style,” Huo Ranyin said. “I’ve never seen you wear a black suit. You’re tall, so it should look good on you.”
This is it, Ji Xun thought.
When he anchored his focus entirely on Huo Ranyin, the sounds reaching his ears seemed to gradually diminish, drawing inward. The light catching the edge of his vision ceased to flicker like a snake’s tongue waiting to strike.
This cold, harsh world was growing soft.
“You say that as if you’ve seen me wear a traditional Eastern gown before,” Ji Xun countered.
“Not yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t in the future,” Huo Ranyin remarked nonchalantly. At the same time, he reached out, pressing his palm against Ji Xun’s cheek to gently guide his face to the side. “Alright, stop looking. A weakness is just a weakness; there’s no need to force yourself to conquer your PTSD…… I can protect you.”
Because of Huo Ranyin, this rigid world truly did become soft.
“Fine, fine, fine, I’ll listen to you.” Ji Xun followed his lead smoothly, turning his head back to gaze at the cherry blossom tree outside the window. As he stared, inspiration suddenly struck. Looking left and right, he grabbed an instrument left on the table and began to sketch, the pencil making a rustling sound against the paper.
Clinking and rustling sounds punctuated the air intermittently as both men immersed themselves in their respective tasks.
After a considerable while, Huo Ranyin set down his carving knife.
His brow was slightly furrowed, clearly dissatisfied.
Evidently, the police captain, trying his hand at this for the very first time, had not mastered the tool. While a human silhouette could be discerned from the wood—it was merely a silhouette at best. The hair he had carved resembled a knot of vipers, while the limbs looked like limp noodles.
Huo Ranyin silently scrutinized this disappointing piece of work. He considered picking up the other block of wood to start anew, but paused. Turning to Ji Xun, he asked, “How is it?”
He did not receive an immediate response.
Huo Ranyin raised an eyebrow and took a closer look, finally discerning what Ji Xun was actually doing.
Ji Xun was drawing.
Beneath a massive cherry blossom tree stood two figures.
Ji Xun, exceptionally tall and dashing in a black suit, had one hand braced against the tree trunk near the other’s ear, leaning in as if about to kiss the version of him leaning against the bark. He, too, was dressed in a suit—a white one, with a floral brooch pinned to the lapel.
A strong wind was blowing.
Blossoms and leaves swirled through the air, filling the canvas with shades of pink and green, obscuring the upper half of his face and leaving only the lower half exposed—which was precisely where Ji Xun’s pencil was resting.
He watched as the long, fine graphite core made a gentle stroke across the blank paper, carving a smile onto his face.
It was a smile simultaneously pure and sensual, an invitation to sin.
The moment Huo Ranyin’s gaze brushed past his own illustrated face, he retracted his eyes, raised his hand, and tapped the tabletop.
Ji Xun snapped out of his intense focus: “You’re done carving? That was fast.”
“I’m unpracticed; I ruined it,” Huo Ranyin said in a casual tone, masking his slight self-consciousness.
“Hmm—” Ji Xun took the wooden figure from Huo Ranyin, turning it left and right to inspect it. Spotting a detail, he used his finger to measure against the neck. “Is my hair really this long?”
“Is it not?” Huo Ranyin countered calmly, shifting his gaze to Ji Xun’s neck.
Ji Xun ran a hand over the unruly hairs bristling against his neck, wisely changing the subject: “Then what’s this lump on the back of the head?”
“I wanted to give you a small, high ponytail.”
“And this piece right above the lump?”
“A candy hairclip,” Huo Ranyin explained, having clearly given it deep thought. “Or a chocolate hairclip.”
“You really jumped straight into high-difficulty mode on your very first try!” Ji Xun finally lamented.
He set down the little wooden figure and picked his pencil back up, quickly sketching Huo Ranyin’s designed version of him in the corner of the completed drawing.
It was a tiny high ponytail, the fur texturing resembling a rabbit’s tail—just a small tuft.
A hair tie bound the tuft, with a piece of candy tucked into the left side and a chocolate on the right, ensuring a full supply of sweets.
Having finished the sketch, Ji Xun didn’t stop. He drifted the pencil tip to the side, intending to draw a simple avatar for Huo Ranyin as well.
First, it needed to match his own avatar, so the hair should probably be a bit longer……
Ji Xun took a brief moment to look up at Huo Ranyin: “Your hair is a bit short……”
Huo Ranyin replied, “Male officers are not permitted to grow long hair.”
Ji Xun satisfied his own whim: “But I can draw it long.”
With a flick of his wrist, Huo Ranyin’s hair in the simple sketch lengthened by a section. The moment this length was added, the feminine essence on the naturally striking features became noticeably pronounced. Ji Xun added a few more strokes, but the more intently he stared at the portrait, the slower his pencil fell……
“I suddenly feel,” Ji Xun murmured, “that this portrait looks a bit familiar.”
“You look at it every single day, so how could it not look familiar?” Huo Ranyin said flatly.
“True, I look at it every day, no wonder it feels familiar,” Ji Xun soliloquized. “That Mazu statue—the very first moment I saw it, I felt its face looked familiar. Thinking back on it today, I finally remember. I think its facial contours closely resemble……”
His gaze landed squarely on Huo Ranyin’s face.
“A female version of you.”
The moment this entirely fresh lead surfaced, Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin wasted no time, heading straight back to the criminal investigation department to retrieve the Mazu statue that had already been logged into evidence from the forensics department.
Not just Huo Ranyin and Ji Xun, but the rest of the Qin City police officers gathered around as well, inspecting the statue together.
Now that Ji Xun had pointed it out, everyone looked back and forth between the Mazu statue and Huo Ranyin, speaking with a note of hesitation: “This……”
“This Mazu statue, hand-carved by Old Hu himself, deviates from the standard carving templates found in most temples. While the facial features of Mazu vary across different regions and temples, they generally adhere to an oval face, a round face, and elongated earlobes, highlighting a motherly sense of benevolence. This statue, however, has an egg-shaped face. Compared to conventional Mazu statues, it possesses a much stronger maidenly quality. I doubt Old Hu would arbitrarily add these details to a statue of Mazu for no reason, unless……”
Reaching this point, Ji Xun exchanged a look with Huo Ranyin, both arriving at the exact same conclusion.
Unless, while carving this statue, Old Hu was thinking of the entity he had once told them about.
—His Blue Tears.
“There’s something wrong with the weight,” Huo Ranyin suddenly spoke up, closely observing the statue. “This wood is ginkgo. A piece of ginkgo wood of this volume should be considerably heavier than this Mazu statue.”
He rapped his knuckles against the wood, listening intently to the resonance before stating with absolute certainty:
“The Mazu statue is hollow inside.”
“A corpse hidden in the belly!” Ji Xun blurted out almost simultaneously.
Old Hu had once told them a story about a corpse hidden inside a Buddha statue. Was that story ultimately true or false? Was it a figment of Old Hu’s imagination, or did it actually happen? And would Old Hu, driven by this reality or illusion, choose to conceal something within the core of the Mazu statue he had personally carved?
The moment this hypothesis was voiced, several pairs of eyes scrutinized the Mazu statue with heightened intensity. Very quickly, traces of adhesive were discovered on the dark brown surface. Prying along the line of the adhesive, the Mazu statue split into two halves, revealing what was hidden deep within its chest cavity.
An envelope.
