367 sat at the junction of Langui District and Baita District, a place that had once hosted several large chemical and asphalt processing plants nine years ago. Those factories had been demolished after accidents and environmental hazards, leaving behind red-brick and white-tiled shells that stood empty and silent.
Over time, a wave of trendy, artistic young people claimed the abandoned factories, slowly transforming them into a neighborhood alive with cultural charm and a distinct artistic vibe. Today, 367 was known throughout Yucheng as a hub of creativity and curiosity.
Yet, with its mix of outsiders and unpredictable residents, the area was prone to small security incidents. For the police, it was a headache—but it was also a place where surprises, sometimes alarming, often awaited. Observant locals could detect subtle changes in their surroundings, often acting as eyes and ears far sharper than a trained investigator. Some had even infiltrated the neighborhood long ago, quietly watching the ebb and flow of its streets.
As soon as Zhen Nuan stepped out of the car, a wall of graffiti caught her eyes—vivid, chaotic, and breathtakingly gorgeous.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she murmured, unable to look away.
Yan Yan’s chest tightened with a strange, unspoken feeling. Among all the 367s across Yucheng, this place carried a deep, unshakable reminder of summers long past and the memories of things that had happened the night Xia Shi disappeared.
That night had been chaotic—Yucheng and Chang’an had endured robberies involving guns, traffic accidents, small explosions at factory workshops, murders, thefts, and even domestic quarrels. When Xia Shi vanished, the city was implementing a new urban development plan; every street, every neighborhood was in flux. Slowly, 367 had emptied, then revived, its streets regaining life, its people returning, its vibrancy gradually restored. Every visit reminded Yan Yan how long it had been.
Lao Bai parked the car and looked back. “Eh, the one following us is gone.”
Yan Yan stepped forward. “They stopped at the turn behind us.”
Though Zhen Nuan was puzzled, she felt no fear. Instead, she was drawn to the eclectic streetscape, curious about every sight. Passing a quirky alleyway, Brother Tan asked, “Boss, aren’t we going to see Sister Huahua?”
Yan Yan paused briefly, thought for a moment, and nodded. “Go.” He turned and led the way down the side street.
The narrow streets were alive with character shops: selling letter papers, stamps, ashtrays, postcards, even textbooks from the 1970s and 1980s. There was too much to take in at a glance.
Walking behind him, Zhen Nuan whispered, “Who is Huahua?”
Lao Bai answered, “She used to be in that business. She was caught a few times, trained, and then quit to do legitimate work.”
“Oh,” Zhen Nuan replied, understanding.
“She had a rough past. Abducted young, forced into a gang, later rescued by anti-pornography efforts. But after all those years, she’d lost her best youth, her skills limited. Most money went to her older brother. She had no way to survive except continuing her old path. Every time she was caught, she’d be back on the street after pleading guilty. Later, everyone pooled money to buy her a run-down house in 367. She finally stopped what she had been doing.”
“I heard it was chaotic years ago, but thankfully the atmosphere improved day by day. It must have cost a lot to buy this façade.”
“I don’t know; it was the boss who handled it. Back then, I was in high school. I heard Brother Tan talking about it. Even as a student at the police academy, the boss followed cases closely. Young Lao Bai couldn’t stop praising him, whispering constantly…”
“Eh, Zhen Nuan, actually I think the boss is quite gentle with you,” Lao Bai added casually.
Huh?” Zhen Nuan was taken aback by the remark. Her eyes flicked to Yan Yan, whose sharp gaze met hers, silently asking what had been said.
“It’s okay,” she whispered back.
Yan Yan turned slightly, his tone calm but firm. “Don’t be fooled by his smiles and chatter. At work, he’s strict. Any mistake is punished severely. If he seems harsh, it’s for everyone’s good. One small error could send the whole team astray.”
Zhen Nuan felt a warmth spread through her chest, understanding the comfort behind his words. “I know.”
“But I still think he treats you well. Guan Xiaoyu cried twice in three days under him, and he didn’t make you go to the office for training,” Lao Bai added teasingly.
Zhen Nuan’s cheeks flushed as she recalled being scolded—but noticed how polite he was, perhaps because her face was too thin.
She was still reflecting when a crisp, melodic voice came from the front, tinged with a Su Hang accent: “Ah, Captain Yan here today?”
Yan Yan and Brother Tan had already entered a small store called Little Candles for Selling Matches.
The shop was warm and inviting, not large, but lined with colorful log shelves displaying matches and handmade candles, their flickering light soft and soothing. A faint, comforting scent of matches and wax filled the air—not harsh, not overpowering, just like warm water enveloping the senses.
The owner herself seemed to radiate this warmth. Above-average in beauty, with delicate makeup and hair swept into an elegant bun adorned with an emerald hairpin, she wore a light blue coat over a white rabbit-collared sweater and a phoenix-patterned cheongsam beneath.
“Passing by, I realized it’s been too long since I visited,” Yan Yan said, his tone loose and pleasant.
Huahua’s face lit up with a smile, her accent soft and gentle. “Oh, you just mean you miss me.”
Yan Yan leaned slightly, a rare elegance curling the corners of his mouth. “If I didn’t say it, you’d still know.”
Huahua’s smile widened, youthful and carefree, while Zhen Nuan, watching them interact, felt her face heat up. She quietly lowered her gaze, unsettled by the subtle flirtation.
Brother Tan chimed in, “Sister Huahua, if you have any news, remember to contact us promptly.”
“Is there a bonus?” Huahua asked teasingly.
“Yes,” Brother Tan replied.
Lao Bai, ever youthful and mischievous, teased lightly, “So no old troublemakers bothering you lately?”
“Not long ago,” Huahua replied with a small smile.
Yan Yan’s gaze casually swept over the shelves of matches as he said, “If anyone comes to pester you, look for me.”
Huahua giggled softly, shaking her head. “That wouldn’t be good. What if someone says you’re mine? Can’t drag you into trouble.”
“If you like each other, it’ll be fine. I won’t suffer,” he replied, his words tinged with cynicism and irreverence.
Even flippant as he was, his natural handsomeness made the proprietress’s cheeks warm, a delicate blush rising as she covered her face, laughing happily. She glanced back at Zhen Nuan a few times, unable to resist sneaking another look.
Yan Yan followed her gaze. “This is Zhen Nuan, our new colleague.”
Huahua smiled softly. “Ah… she’s so beautiful. It’s a pity she has to do this business.”
Yan Yan, still browsing matches casually, raised a brow. “What do you mean, a pity?”
Huahua glared, slightly flustered.
“She…,” she began, then hesitated, unsure how to phrase it politely. Finally, she simply said with a shy smile, “It would be nice if she were your girlfriend.”
Lao Bai sighed dramatically. The question was tricky—both Yan Yan’s natural detachment and Zhen Nuan’s embarrassment made it difficult to respond. Zhen Nuan’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away, pretending to admire the candles.
Yan Yan, noticing her discomfort, teased lightly, “Too many girlfriends… I can’t support them all anymore.”
One casual line, and her embarrassment transferred entirely to him, though it only made him sound playfully arrogant. Zhen Nuan remained unaffected, quietly amused.
“Where there’s no money, that’s a lie!” Huahua added, laughing.
“Really. Being a police officer isn’t as profitable as running your business here,” Yan Yan quipped.
“Don’t tease me,” Huahua said, still smiling.
Zhen Nuan looked up at Yan Yan’s slender silhouette against the candlelight, realizing he was subtly acknowledging her success in business.
“In recent years, the value of this lot has risen faster than real estate. Thankfully, I came here when 367 was just beginning. Thanks to your help, Mr. Police,” Huahua said gratefully, looking at Yan Yan as he selected matches.
Brother Tan interjected, “The boss isn’t exaggerating. Our salaries can’t compete with your profits here.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Huahua said, patting her head and rushing behind the counter to fetch a cigarette. “Take this back and smoke it for the big guy.”
Brother Tan froze. “I didn’t mean that, Sister Huahua, take it back!”
Huahua waved him off. “It’s fine, it’s not for anyone else. I got it cheap anyway.”
She pressed the cigarette into Yan Yan’s hand. He smiled lightly. “Looks like you really want me to quit being a cop and help run the shop. Fine. Take it for now, and we’ll wait until I retire for the rest.”
Huahua’s eyes brightened, a mixture of regret and hope flickering across her face. She returned to the counter, carefully cutting a single cigarette from the pack.
Yan Yan shook his head with a soft laugh.
“One cigarette, then,” she insisted, her gaze earnest.
“Alright, one,” he said, stepping forward and taking it from her hand. He had intended to light it himself, but Huahua had already selected a match.
She picked out a blue-tipped matchstick, struck it, and the soft “sszz” of the flame filled the warm, quiet shop.
Zhen Nuan watched from behind the glass, transfixed.
Huahua held the cigarette up to Yan Yan’s face. He paused subtly, his right hand falling naturally but gripping slightly in restraint. Even with his usual lazy charm and world-weary smile, he was uncomfortable with such intimate gestures. The brief restraint passed unnoticed, yet it revealed a side of him hidden from most.
Yan Yan leaned slightly forward, left hand holding the cigarette, tilting his head with a quiet elegance. The firelight flickered across his pale, handsome face. Huahua’s posture was delicate and sincere, holding the match with gentle reverence as she looked up at him.
Zhen Nuan, watching, felt the scene’s beauty and warmth settle over her. She imagined herself striking a match too, and even her cold hands felt unexpectedly cozy in the winter air. Perhaps this fleeting beauty stemmed from the presence of just one person.
Old Bai shook his head in admiration. “If I were a woman, I’d want to give the boss a smoke myself.”
Yan Yan turned with a faint smirk. “If you were a woman, I’d quit smoking forever.”
“Ah!” Old Bai’s mock cry filled the shop.
Seeing Zhen Nuan’s sharp, curious gaze, Yan Yan winked subtly. Her heart skipped a beat. She turned back to the candles, cheeks warming again.
Huahua asked, softly curious, “Do you have someone you like?”
“Yes,” Zhen Nuan replied quietly, selecting a simple white cylindrical candle at the counter.
Yan Yan handed her the matches, hiding the cigarette behind his back. When Zhen Nuan reached for payment, he gently intercepted her hand, motioning to include Huahua in the payment.
“Thank you,” Zhen Nuan whispered, accepting it without protest.
After settling up, Yan Yan said, “Huahua, I need to ask you about someone.”
“What’s the name?”
Yan Yan’s eyes flickered, silent, hinting at secrecy.
Huahua understood immediately. She packaged the matches and candle for Zhen Nuan and led him into the back room.
Section Chief Bai whispered suspiciously, “The boss is up to something… mysterious as always.”
Brother Tan chuckled, “Other than that, what could it be?”
“Even Director Shang couldn’t solve that case years ago. After all this time… can there still be a clue?”
“I looked through newspapers from nine years ago. They had a photo of the boss’s girlfriend… she was stunning, the kind of beauty that felt pure and comforting, nothing extravagant or overwhelming. Truly breathtaking.”
“Really that beautiful?”
“Not exaggerated at all. That’s why the case was so sensational. Half because of the crime, half because of her—so tragically beautiful.”
“Then I’ll go see too… maybe more beautiful than Zhen Nuan?”
Zhen Nuan, quietly counting matches, looked up in surprise. Brother Tan and Lao Bai exchanged knowing smiles, and the conversation drifted away.
After a while, Yan Yan emerged. Everyone said their goodbyes to Huahua.
The moment he left the store, the relaxed, playful aura he had inside vanished. He became controlled, quiet, composed. The cigarette remained in his hand, unlit. He wasn’t accustomed to smoking in public.
Only after turning the corner did he dispose of it in a trash can.
Zhen Nuan’s attention was immediately captured. They had entered the extreme sports area: youths leaped and shouted, scaling rocks, walls, and U-shaped pools between abandoned rooftops.
Yan Yan glanced back subtly. Yu Guang immediately sensed danger. His eyes darted upward, just in time to see a flower pot containing cement blocks hurtling from above—falling straight toward Zhen Nuan’s head.
In that instant, Yan Yan recalled—if he remembered correctly, at least three people had followed them in the car behind.
Were they all here for Zhen Nuan?
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