Zhen Nuan got off work a little late, and by the time she finally reached home by bus, the sky had already sunk into darkness.
She stepped down from the platform with gloves on, and just as she lifted her foot for the next step, a sharp flash of movement caught the corner of her eye—a car was rushing straight toward her. She froze instantly, her body too stunned to react, when a hand grabbed the collar of her coat and the top of her hat, yanking her backwards with force.
Her feet left the ground for a moment, and the car shot past her like a blade of wind slicing through the night.
"Who is it?! The car was driving so fast it almost hit someone and still didn’t stop!" A woman nearby shouted angrily in the direction of the vehicle that had already vanished.
Zhen Nuan, still held up by her clothes and hat, stumbled as she landed on the edge of the platform. She almost fell when her weight shifted, but the man behind her caught her arm again, gripping her firmly.
“What are you thinking, walking without looking around?” Yan Yan’s cool, steady voice dropped from above her head.
Zhen Nuan blinked in shock and looked up with wide eyes—wasn’t it him?
His features were clean and defined, his tone as calm and unhurried as always. Tonight, he had a gray scarf wrapped neatly around his neck, adding a touch of refinement that made him look like a polite, well-mannered gentleman from one of the nearby office buildings.
She hurriedly stood up straight. “Captain, why are you here?”
He lifted his chin slightly and gestured toward the mall across the street. “Bought something.”
“Let’s go.” He walked with her toward the roadside, glanced at the narrow alley she usually took, and said in a low voice, “Watch out for cars.”
“Oh.” Her voice was muffled as she burrowed her face deeper into her scarf. She spoke through the wool in a soft, blurry tone, “I’m leaving now.”
Yan Yan nodded.
She took one step away, then suddenly turned back. Only her eyes were visible above the scarf—round, bright, and slightly wet under the dim streetlamp. Her thick mittens waved at him, and she buzzed out a soft, “Goodbye, Captain.”
He couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Goodbye.”
Once she disappeared into the alley, he turned toward the mall and took out his phone. “Check a license plate for me. Illegal speeding in the downtown area. Plate number Axxxxx.”
A moment later, his expression shifted, pupils narrowing. “A decked car?”
He pocketed the phone and stopped walking altogether.
Zhen Nuan pressed down her scarf with both hands and walked briskly into the alley. Although her residential community was close to the downtown district, the maze of nearby roads kept this path strangely quiet.
Tall broad-leaved trees lined the road densely. Their yellowing leaves hung low, and the countless fallen leaves carpeting the ground muffled the streetlights overhead. From afar, the whole passage looked like a dim tunnel formed by branches and shadows.
Her boots sank lightly into the soft layer of leaves as she walked, but after a while, she suddenly felt an odd sensation—someone seemed to be behind her.
She slowed down. A few steps away, she heard the faint rustle of leaves shifting under another set of steps. There was even a subtle crack, as if someone had stepped on a dry twig…
Her breath tightened. She turned around slowly, but her eyes landed on nothing.
The alley was gray and muted. In the distance, the bright intersection continued buzzing with cars and life—just not here.
Was it an illusion?
She hesitated for a moment, then turned forward and continued walking.
This time, Zhen Nuan instinctively quickened her pace, but the faster she walked, the clearer that presence behind her felt.
Her heartbeat quickened, tapping anxiously against her ribs. The rustling of leaves—completely mismatched with her own steps—grew louder and more agitated. She looked back sharply, but the space behind her remained empty.
Only the dark trees stood there—twisted, shadowed forms that stretched like silent figures capable of hiding anything… or anyone.
She stopped in the middle of the alley. The front and back were both empty, dim, and devoid of people. The unsettling feeling spreading through her chest tightened its grip.
She scanned the surroundings, then moved away from the narrow sidewalk toward the center of the road, picking up speed as she tried to reach the safety of her community entrance.
Her footsteps turned into a run.
She rushed into the entrance like a gust of wind and spun around immediately.
This time, she saw it—a human silhouette.
The figure instantly darted into the shrubs the moment she turned and vanished without a trace.
The feeling of fear suddenly surged through her chest, sharp and overwhelming, and Zhen Nuan couldn’t stop the tremor that ran down her spine.
She rushed into the building the moment she escaped the alley, yet she still couldn’t stop glancing behind her. Even though the stalker’s figure was nowhere in sight, the dread lingered. The instant she entered the elevator, she pressed the door-close button hard and repeatedly, terrified that a hand might slip in just as the doors shut.
She pressed every floor again out of panic, and when the elevator finally reached her level, she darted out quickly.
Bursting into her apartment and locking the door behind her, she finally felt a sliver of safety. She peered through the peephole—nothing in the hallway. The corridor was empty, and the doors of her neighbors remained tightly shut.
She didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, she walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, using the outdoor glow to see. Tilting her head, she scanned the entrance of the community below.
There were no suspicious figures lingering near the gate.
Maybe it had just been a prowler wandering around, looking for random targets. Back home and abroad, she had encountered similar, unsettling moments of being tailed. Now that her breathing was slowly steadying, she tried to put the thought aside.
But suddenly, her phone rang—shrill and crisp, slicing open the silence of the night.
Zhen Nuan’s heart lurched.
In the darkened living room, her phone glowed and sang from the sofa.
She inwardly scolded herself for being so jumpy, hurried over, and saw the caller ID—Yan Yan. She picked up quickly. “Hello, Captain?”
“Where are you now?”
“Huh?” She found the question odd. “At home. Do I need to work overtime? I’ll… I’ll come right away.”
“No.” He paused for a few seconds. The background on his end was quiet; he didn’t sound like someone standing inside a mall.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, slipping into his usual businesslike tone, “rest early. Don’t wander around at night. In the next few days, you’ll follow us for attendance.”
“Eh? Okay.”
Zhen Nuan had already heard from Guan Xiaoyu that although she was a forensic doctor, interns still needed to learn every department’s workflow, including the basics of criminal investigations. It was the only way to fully grasp the operating processes of the bureau.
Attendance—it sounded both unfamiliar and exciting. She was curious and a little eager for it.
The next morning, Zhen Nuan arrived at the office at half past seven. Since it wasn’t yet time to start work, she simply began ahead of schedule.
It was already November, and to avoid being overwhelmed at the end of the year, she started tallying and verifying case data early. She brewed a pot of tea, pulled out the documents she had sorted in the past few days, and continued reading:
“On October 5, on Chunjing Road in Baita District, an 18-year-old girl fell from a building…” she murmured as she read the entire report, “…suicide.”
“On October 5, on Mihua Street in Jiangcheng District, a 28-year-old man was found lying dead by the roadside… Case concluded on October 4 as intentional assault and homicide.”
“On October 5, on Xiushui Road in Langui District, a 24-year-old man collapsed roadside and died after failed rescue… Steel frame at a construction site fell and accidentally crushed him.”
“October 6…”
Zhen Nuan looked at the thick pile of folders in front of her—every one of them cases from before she took office.
There were quarterly statistical checks, and Professor Zheng had already handled the first three. So she only needed to start reviewing from October onward. Still, she never expected there would be so many cases in Yucheng. The workload was immense.
She carefully checked every detail in each report, and before she realized it, it was already half past eight.
The office phone rang—it was Brother Tan.
“Zhen Nuan, you here?”
Zhen Nuan replied quickly, “I’m in the office! I’m not slacking off.” She grabbed the receiver with both hands and shook her head reflexively.
He paused, then laughed. “I didn’t accuse you of slacking. Come down.”
Zhen Nuan hurriedly gathered her things and went downstairs. She ran toward the yard entrance, where she saw Yan Yan and the others standing by the car, chatting and laughing.
Captain Yan wore a dark blue trench coat today. The tailored cut made his figure look long and refined, adding a quiet nobility beyond his usual composure.
He looked up and caught sight of her approaching. His smile paused halfway as he asked, “What were you hiding upstairs?”
“I was working,” she said, wrinkling her nose slightly.
He regarded her for a moment, then tilted his head back and turned. “Get in the car.”
After Zhen Nuan got in, she noticed the men inside immediately toned their jokes down. Clearly, her presence had put a lid on the kind of rough humor they usually shared.
But the criminal investigation team was full of lively personalities. Section Chief Bai and Brother Tan took the lead in chatting with her:
Section Chief Bai asked, “Zhen Nuan, according to your file, you’re from Shenzhen?”
“Well, yes.”
As soon as she responded, she nodded again, a little too quickly.
Yan Yan, seated nearby, caught this and quietly glanced at her. She sat upright, attentive, focusing on the back of whoever was speaking to her, answering questions like a primary schooler afraid of losing points.
“Actually,” she added, “that’s only my birthplace. I grew up in Yucheng.”
It was obvious she felt nervous sharing a small car cabin with three men. But she was also considerate, trying not to let her awkwardness come off as impoliteness.
Brother Tan chimed in, “Then aren’t you and the boss hometown mates?”
“No,” Zhen Nuan shook her head. “He’s from Shenzhen.”
Section Chief Bai laughed. “Sounds the same to me.”
Brother Tan rolled his eyes. “Right. Netherlands and Henan must be the same too.”
Section Chief Bai didn’t follow, assuming he was being teased. He defended himself earnestly, “Netherlands and Helan are the same!”
Zhen Nuan couldn’t help a soft laugh.
Section Chief Bai asked again, “Zhen Nuan, what do your parents do?”
“I grew up at the orphanage…” Before she could finish, Brother Tan—already aware of her file—slapped Section Chief Bai’s arm. Section Chief Bai didn’t realize why and snapped, “Drive straight! Keep your hands on the wheel.” As he spoke, he exaggeratedly shook the steering wheel like a child showing off.
The car swayed off its line and swung back. Zhen Nuan, unprepared, lost her balance and lurched straight toward Yan Yan.
He had been resting with his eyes closed.
But the moment she fell toward him, he sensed it with razor-sharp awareness. His eyes snapped open as he steadied her shoulders with both hands, stopping her before she could fully collapse against him.
For a second, she remained in that posture—leaning into him. Then, mortified, she pulled back quickly and sat upright.
Yan Yan glanced at her flushed face, then flicked his gaze forward. “Old Bai, are you looking for death?”
Section Chief Bai wailed, “Boss! I’m only twenty-five—I just look old! I got this position through young talent promotion! Don’t bully me in front of the pretty girl!”
Zhen Nuan pressed her lips together, smiling.
Trying to contribute to the conversation, she thought carefully, then said slowly, “You’re actually two years younger than me.”
“What? Impossible!” Section Chief Bai looked horrified. “You look way too young. I thought the boss had hired a child! You know how online they talk about forty-year-old fairy wives? You’ll definitely be one in the future.”
“No, no,” Zhen Nuan shook her head. “That feels strange. If you’re old, you’re old.”
After she said that, no one responded. Silence filled the car.
A hint of awkwardness crept up her neck. Had she said something wrong? She glanced forward—
Yan Yan’s sharp eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror; Section Chief Bai and Brother Tan also stared into it, suddenly serious.
Zhen Nuan frowned, about to ask—
“Don’t look back.” Yan Yan’s voice carried a quiet command.
Zhen Nuan straightened immediately and whispered, “Someone is following us?”
Section Chief Bai grinned, a little too excited. “Boss, you noticed too?”
“Mm. They’ve been tailing us since Fengshan West Road.”
Zhen Nuan froze. Fengshan West Road was right next to the bureau. So they had been targeted almost as soon as they left? Who would actually dare follow a police car?
“Boss, should we speed up and lose them?”
“Sure,” Yan Yan said lightly, lips curving faintly as his gaze sharpened. “You’ll compensate for any damages to pedestrians and vehicles while ‘losing them.’”
Lao Bai’s eager expression collapsed instantly.
“Let them follow,” Yan Yan said, his tone slow and cool, resting his gaze casually on the mirror. “I want to see what they intend to do.”
“Then do we still go where we planned?”
“No. Head to 367.”
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