[12/20, 20:31, Nanyan Spring Mantion, Haijing City]
The living room floor was covered with a thick mat. Yi Shi lay on it, having just received a shot of local anesthesia from Qi Wenyu. His entire arm had gone numb, allowing the sharp scalpel to cut into his muscle without him feeling anything.
In this state of local anesthesia, Yi Shi was fully conscious. To ensure adequate lighting, in addition to the ceiling light being turned up to its maximum brightness, Qi Wenyu also had his own portable shadowless LED lamp, whose bright light stung Yi Shi’s eyes.
Initially, Yi Shi didn’t lie down—his injury was on his limb, so it could easily be treated while he was seated. But Qi Wenyu, with his many quirks, felt uncomfortable operating on a sitting patient since he was used to working on corpses laid out on a table. After Yi Shi finally lay down and closed his eyes, Forensic Expert Qi immediately got into the zone; this was exactly the feeling he needed.
Yu Xue was assisting on the side, handing him scalpels and medical supplies. Before long, a clear “ding” was heard. Yi Shi opened his eyes and turned to see a bloodstained metal bullet placed on the tray.
Yu Xue picked it up and examined it: “Type 92. Was it your own men who shot you?”
“…Haijing’s.” Yi Shi spoke softly, unwilling to recall that moment when he faced Lin Heyu. If it had been someone else, it wouldn’t have mattered so much, but it had to be him. Even though he knew it was just fate playing tricks, the experience left a knot in his heart.
Yu Xue didn’t pursue the matter further, clearly understanding which “Haijing” Yi Shi was referring to. Qi Wenyu, unaware of the deeper context, seriously suggested taking the bullet back to examine the rifling and check the guns in both regions. Yu Xue interrupted him, urging him to hurry up and clean the wound, stop the bleeding, and bandage it.
Qi Wenyu nodded repeatedly, but he couldn’t stay serious for long. He joked, “A-Xue, don’t you think if someone saw us right now, they’d think we were trying to dispose of a body?”
Yi Shi: “…”
“It really does look like it! Look at him lying there, the two of us covered in blood, knives beside us. If a neighbor across the way was looking through a telescope, it’d be quite the scene.”
Yu Xue pushed up his glasses, his gaze unmistakably giving off the “I want to stab someone” look.
Yi Shi closed his eyes again, images of Qi Wenyu in his twenties—young and dashing—flashed in his mind. He couldn’t understand how that once-elegant youth had turned into such a quirky uncle full of complaints.
“Luckily, it wasn’t too deep. Even a half-trained person like me can manage to be the lead surgeon. During the cleaning, I didn’t see any small, floating bone fragments, but you most likely have a fracture. You’ll need to go to the hospital for a thorough check when we get back.” Qi Wenyu removed his mask and gloves. “All done. Now wait for the anesthetic to wear off before you try to move.”
Yi Shi’s shoulder was already wrapped in gauze, and Yu Xue helped him sit up, giving him two anti-inflammatory pills to take. The floor was a mess, with bloody surgical tools lying on the tray. Surprisingly, Qi Wenyu brought over the takeout, unwrapping it and exclaiming, “Smells great! A-Xue, come have a bite.”
Yu Xue smiled gently and said in a soft tone, “No, I don’t have as much appetite as you. I can’t eat right now.”
Qi Wenyu looked confused, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic floor, and he finally remembered they hadn’t cleaned up the mess yet. But he wasn’t entirely to blame—he often ate right after taking off his gloves at the office, and after finishing his meal, he’d pick up the scalpel and get back to work. Years of this had toughened him to the point where he could eat with a corpse in front of him without losing his appetite.
He quickly grabbed a bag to dispose of the appetite-ruining items and cleaned the surgical tools. Meanwhile, Yu Xue sat next to Yi Shi, making small talk, which made Qi Wenyu feel a bit jealous: Why is my ‘wife’ treating this kid so well?
After the meal, Qi Wenyu was sent out to buy daily necessities. The moment he left, Yu Xue immediately asked what had happened recently. Yi Shi didn’t hold back and told him everything.
“So—you accidentally got involved in that kidnapping case?” Yu Xue found it odd. “But according to the information Lin Heyu provided, you were never mentioned.”
“Right, I blended in as a female teacher. No one knew my name. Besides, I left partway through, so there were still two teachers among the hostages, which didn’t conflict with the established facts.”
“Female teacher, huh…” Yu Xue muttered softly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Lin Erde is dead?”
Hearing Lin Erde’s name, Yi Shi froze, looking down at his hands. After a long while, he nodded: “…Yes, I pushed him off.”
Yu Xue couldn’t help sighing. Yi Shi had been the one interrogating Lin Erde, who had been hoping for a miracle. In the end, he died at Yi Shi’s hands, a clear case of karma.
“Tomorrow, I’ll go to the mountains and take a look. There’s still a Lin Erde in the detention center. If they find the body on the mountain, it won’t be easy to explain.” Yu Xue patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much; that was his fate.”
Yi Shi remained silent, head down. Yu Xue chuckled and changed the topic, “Aren’t you curious why I have the key to Lin Heyu’s house?”
“He gave it to you.”
“Huh? You knew?”
Yi Shi nodded. “Only he and Aunt Lin would have the key to this place. The fact that you could pick me up and bring me here at the right time could only mean he gave it to you. Plus, he mentioned contacting you after I disappeared, which is why there wasn’t a large-scale search of the mountains.”
Yu Xue sighed. It wasn’t always a good thing when someone was too smart. Yi Shi saw through everything at a glance, leaving no room for any fun in guessing. Pushing up his glasses, Yu Xue said, “Indeed, they didn’t launch a large-scale search in Haijing. Everyone thought you were taken elsewhere by the kidnappers; your fate uncertain.”
“Yeah, they said I was dead. Let them think that for now.”
Disappearing inexplicably and then suddenly reappearing was bound to attract special attention. Since there was nothing he could reveal, it might be better to let them think he hadn’t reappeared at all. If they believed he died in the line of duty, so be it. When everything was settled, the rumors would naturally collapse.
Yu Xue, with his keen mind, clearly understood Yi Shi’s thoughts. He didn’t want Yi Shi to take any more risks, but recalling Lin Heyu’s words, he knew that, as an outsider, this was as much as he could do.
____
Although the water and electricity in Lin Heyu’s house were still functioning, the heating hadn’t been turned on. Yu Xue laid the blankets thicker and told Yi Shi to sleep in Lin Heyu’s room. He said that if Yi Shi felt uncomfortable at night, he could come find them.
Once the door was closed, everything around was silent. Yi Shi wasn’t sleepy for the moment—or rather, he couldn’t sleep at all. This was Lin Heyu’s living space, his most private area, all laid out before Yi Shi without reservation. It gave him an urgent desire to explore and understand everything.
He opened the desk drawer. Inside were neatly arranged books. Randomly opening one, it was either case-related records or professional notes, written in a strong and forceful hand. Besides the notebooks, there were some professional books too. Since they weren’t placed in the bookshelf, they must have been his bedtime reading material. Yi Shi had thought his own hobbies were quite dull, but unexpectedly, he and Lin Heyu shared this in common. If the two of them lived together, they might even exchange insights.
In the cabinet below were awards and certificates. From their thickness, it was clear that Lin Heyu had been a good student since childhood, receiving the “Three Merits Student” award every year in elementary school. But in middle school, there was only one certificate from his third year. Then, in high school, it was back to three years of being a model student. Yi Shi wondered what he had been doing during those missing two years.
He quickly found the answer to his question. At the bottom of the cabinet was a diary.
Yi Shi’s fingers touched the cover. Reading Lin Heyu’s diary without his permission was an invasion of privacy. But the urge to understand was overwhelming, a desire he hadn’t felt for anyone else before. It wasn’t mere curiosity—it was the need to completely know everything about him.
Moreover, considering Lin Heyu’s personality, allowing Yi Shi into this space was a clear invitation—an invitation to understand his past.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Yi Shi took out the diary.
The entries began in middle school, with the first one describing the accidental death of Lin Heyu’s father, his forced transfer, and returning to Linjia Village with his mother. The handwriting was messy and sharp, the grief and pain of a young boy vividly expressed on the page.
For a long stretch afterward, the entries conveyed the boy’s confusion and despair following his father’s death. He didn’t want to study and wanted to leave Linjia Village. Negative emotions poured onto the yellowed pages, revealing his complete breakdown.
By December, the diary entries became more sporadic. Two pages were left blank, and after that, there were two or three entries, followed by more empty pages. Whatever happened during this time, it seemed that Lin Heyu’s emotions gradually calmed down. The resentment in his writing slowly diminished, as though he was beginning to come to terms with his grief.
[December 21st, Cloudy]
Today was unexpected. I ran into the people I saw yesterday in the mountains. They asked me for directions, and I just pointed to a random path. I’m worried they might find it.
Sometimes I wonder, is this the right thing to do? Should I be hiding the truth? There have been so many strange things happening in the mountains lately, but I haven’t told anyone—not even Mom.
Mom still thinks I go to school every day, but really, I just leave my bag in the classroom and skip class to go to Nancheng. No one in Linjia Village likes me, not even the teachers. I’ve been skipping school for so long, but the teacher never cared, never even told Mom. I guess, to them, I’m like air—something that exists but is insignificant.
When will I ever have hope for life? Mom doesn’t want me to treat taking care of her as my duty, but what else can I do?
The diary didn’t mention what exactly “that” was. Most of the entries in young Lin Heyu’s diary were filled with his worries about life. Every day, he questioned the purpose of living, drifting through life like a soulless body.
On the last page—
[March 8th, Sunny]
Today is Women’s Day. I didn’t have any money to buy carnations, so I picked some forsythia flowers on the mountain to give to Mom. She didn’t mind at all. In fact, she smiled so brightly, so content.
I suddenly realized that I hadn’t seen Mom smile in a long time. She’s grown so many white hairs, all because of the worries at home. I’ve been troubling her for so long with my name change, constantly delaying it. Yesterday, the old village chief sent someone to our house again, saying that I’m not of Linjia Village’s bloodline and that I should be kicked out. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind leaving this place, but Mom insists we have to stay and rely on Linjia Village.
Fine, I’ll change my name. I’ve made up my mind. If becoming a part of Linjia Village means I can work and earn money here, then I’ll do it—for Mom and Zhizhi, the two most important people in my life. Dad would understand our decision.
Yi Shi continued to search through the cabinet, hoping to find more about how Lin Heyu had changed afterward. But to his disappointment, there was only this one diary. It seemed that after Lin Heyu decided to change his surname and take on the responsibility of the family, he stopped writing in his diary. Perhaps real life had taken over, leaving him no time for these small private musings.
It was getting late. Yi Shi put the diary back in its place and returned to bed. He carefully avoided putting pressure on his wound, but his entire right arm was still immobile, and even a slight movement sent waves of pain through him.
Last time, it had only been a cold, and Lin Heyu had held him all night, frequently checking his temperature. Now it was a gunshot wound—if Lin Heyu were here, he would certainly be even more worried, taking care of him with meticulous attention.
Yi Shi curled up in the blanket. He suddenly missed him very much.
