After the ledger was brought back to the police station, it triggered a wave of commotion and excitement across a considerable range of departments.
All the police officers involved in handling this case, without needing to be called, rapidly gathered in the First Squad’s office. They swarmed around the ledger to analyze, compare, and discuss it; even the people from the forensics department specifically came over to check out the excitement.
Among the crowd, Huo Ranyin ran into Yuan Yue.
Yuan Yue was actually a bit more at leisure now. Since the crucial evidence had been secured, the subsequent comparison and analysis would naturally be left to his subordinates to execute.
Huo Ranyin casually asked, “Where exactly in Chen Jiashu’s office was that ship placed?”
Yuan Yue replied, “What ship?”
Huo Ranyin: “…”
He cast a surprised glance at Yuan Yue, the tip of his tongue lightly tapping against the roof of his mouth.
Yuan Yue’s men hadn’t searched and found any vessel in Chen Jiashu’s office?
“What about ‘With smooth sailing on the voyage, the wind settles and the waves are still’?” Huo Ranyin asked again.
“What is that?” Yuan Yue frowned.
“Nothing.” Huo Ranyin did not elaborate further. Walking away from Yuan Yue, he left the First Squad and took a slow stroll along the corridor.
This was wrong. It shouldn’t be.
If Chen Jiashu was the mastermind behind the organ smuggling operation, the traces of these things should, by all means, appear somewhere around him.
Because starting from Tang Jinglong at Sunshine Hospital, then to Old Hu in Qin City, and even including Xu Xinran who was apprehended recently—every single one of them had these token-like objects appearing around them, and every single one of them was inextricably linked to the trade and smuggling. If these people were the joints of this massive criminal network, then why didn’t Chen Jiashu, the endpoint of these joints, possess a corresponding token?
Furthermore, there was Meng Fushan.
Meng Fushan had always believed that the death of Ji Xun’s younger sister was not simple, and had been tracking the underlying truth behind the case for all these years.
During Fu Baoxin’s case in Qin City, Ji Xun had shown a glaring moment of losing his composure. He must have remembered his sister, Ji Yu… Only when thinking of his sister would Ji Xun exhibit a trace of panic and fear that could neither be concealed nor masked. Considering that the kidnapping case involving Fu Baoxin and Fu Baoling was likely also connected to organ trafficking… it could be deduced that Ji Yu’s matter had already been bound by Ji Xun to this case of kidnapping and illicit trade back then.
Ji Xun’s source of information came from Meng Fushan.
Meng Fushan had locked onto the suspect early on. If Chen Jiashu was truly the source and mastermind behind everything, then Ji Yu’s case should also come to light accordingly. At this stage, why was Meng Fushan still unwilling to step forward and explain the causes and consequences clearly?
Standing at the doorway of the Second Squad, Huo Ranyin asked Tan Mingjiu, “Have you seen Ji Xun?”
Tan Mingjiu shook his head blankly.
On the contrary, the glasses-wearing detective who had been staying in the office hurriedly spoke up, “Teacher Ji was here just now. He mentioned that matters have wound down for now, so he went home first.”
Huo Ranyin checked his phone; there were no messages from Ji Xun.
He didn’t say anything.
The sunlight penetrated the windowsill, casting a pool of flowing crimson across the floor tiles.
Sitting on the balcony, Ji Xun heard the crisp click of the lock opening. He was somewhat surprised: “Back so early today?”
“Yeah.” Huo Ranyin’s voice drifted from behind him. “We’ve been busy for a while, and some results have come out. Let’s balance work with rest and take a break.”
Following the closure of the front door, Ji Xun then heard the sound of rustling plastic bags. Turning his head to take a look, he saw that Huo Ranyin hadn’t just returned alone; he had also brought back a fair amount of meat and vegetables. Casually tossing his phone onto the coffee table, the man walked into the kitchen, with only his voice echoing out:
“What do you want to eat tonight?”
“What do you have?” Ji Xun thought for a moment and asked.
“Meat, vegetables, and seafood—we have everything.”
Ji Xun stood up from the chair on the balcony. He walked to the kitchen, leaned against the doorframe, and asked Huo Ranyin, “Do you need help?”
“Don’t you have a phobia of sharp blades?” Huo Ranyin noted. Whichever dish he was preparing, the rapid thud-thud-thud of a knife chopping against the cutting board had already started ringing out.
“Cooking doesn’t just involve using knives,” Ji Xun countered. With Huo Ranyin’s back turned toward him, blocking out the knife and its gleam, he felt perfectly safe at the moment. Scanning left and right, he picked up the inner pot of the rice cooker himself and began washing the rice to prepare it.
The advantage of the two of them cooking together was being able to chat freely.
The disadvantage of Huo Ranyin and Ji Xun cooking together was that within a couple of sentences, the conversation would inevitably veer back to the case.
“How are things on Yuan Yue’s side?”
“If you’re curious, why didn’t you stay behind to wait for the results?” Huo Ranyin countered. “You were the one who found the ledger. Not staying behind to wait for the outcome doesn’t seem like you.”
“Tired. Didn’t want to stay.”
“The results are good; every single entry can be matched up.”
“Mm.”
A buzzing sound resonated from the outside.
“Whose phone is ringing?” Huo Ranyin asked.
“Mine,” Ji Xun replied.
“Go check it out.”
“It’s just a text message.”
“Perhaps it’s an important text message,” Huo Ranyin remarked.
“Perhaps it’s a text message sent by Meng Fushan,” Ji Xun echoed back.
The sound of the knife slicing vegetables and chopping meat ground to a halt.
Ji Xun’s movements didn’t stop, completing the sequence of washing the rice, placing it in the cooker, and pressing the steam button in one continuous motion. Turning his head back, he said with a relaxed tone, “The case isn’t over yet, so would you really be luxurious enough to balance work with rest? You came back early simply because you suspect me. You feel that by coming over to keep an eye on me, you might just reap more clues—such as clues about Meng Fushan.”
Treading right on the trailing echo of his words, the methodical sound of chopping vegetables resumed.
Huo Ranyin said flatly, “That’s right. Your analysis is entirely correct.”
“So, are you going to check my phone now, Officer Huo?”
“Currently, there is no direct evidence proving that you have established contact with personnel involved in the case. No regulation supports me in inspecting your phone and violating your privacy.”
“A clear distinction between public and private duties,” Ji Xun praised.
He watched as the man with his back turned finished chopping the vegetables, stepped to the sink, turned on the tap, and pulled down a sheet of kitchen paper to clean and dry up. By the time the blades hidden in the cabinetry were put back inside, Ji Xun hadn’t glimpsed even a single flash of light from the knife.
Huo Ranyin’s suspicion was a completely airtight net—rigged with hooks, barbed with thorns, blocking the wind, and shielding from the rain. It was simultaneously sharp and tender.
Ji Xun watched Huo Ranyin for a moment, then turned to grab his phone from the balcony before returning to the kitchen.
Holding the phone, its screen currently black like a thin brick, he spun it rapidly through his fingertips.
“Do you truly suspect that Meng Fushan sent me a text?” Ji Xun teased, “Clearly, the probability of it being a spam text from China Telecom or Taobao is much higher.”
“Indeed,” Huo Ranyin conceded. “But it’s undeniable that ever since you found the ledger Meng Fushan left behind in Chen Jiashu’s office, the likelihood of Meng Fushan contacting you in the short term has risen drastically.”
“It’s time to monitor the communications of your bedpartner,” Ji Xun lampooned.
“I already said I won’t do that, and there’s no need to with you. Because you…” Huo Ranyin tapped his finger against his temple, “have lived too vividly and too clearly inside my mind for a long time.”
He offered a slight smile.
“You can’t fool me.”
Ji Xun tossed the phone up into the air, catching it with the back of his hand before covering it with his palm, just like flipping a coin to guess heads or tails.
“Spam message,” Ji Xun claimed.
“Important message,” Huo Ranyin stated deliberately.
Ji Xun moved his hand away and lit up the phone. The screen displayed a new incoming message; it was indeed a text sent from China Telecom.
“Looks like I won,” Ji Xun laughed.
Yet right at this moment, his phone vibrated once more as another text message entered.
The number for this new text message originated from overseas, and the content read:
“The source is not Chen Jiashu.”
The gazes of both men froze upon that small square of a screen.
After a beat, Huo Ranyin lifted his eyes: “It appears the one who won is me.”
