Chapter 20

“You are,” Bian Ranxin walked up close, smiling as she sized up Yan Dongcheng, “Officer Yan?”

“Miss Bian, hello. Your memory is really good.”

“People with outstanding appearance and bearing, I generally don’t forget after seeing them once.”

“You flatter me.” Yan Dongcheng felt somewhat awkward and changed the subject. “Is this painter your friend?”

“Teacher He from the art academy! I got into Jiangcheng University, and during summer vacation in high school I took Teacher He’s art class. He was my art enlightenment teacher.”

“I really like Teacher He’s painting style.”
Yan Dongcheng looked carefully at each oil painting on the wall, walking side by side with Bian Ranxin deeper into the exhibition hall.

“Has Officer Yan also studied painting?”

“Yes, I studied when I was little. I still really like painting watercolor now, but I’m too busy most of the time, so I rarely can spare an entire day to paint. Watercolor painting and the freehand style of Chinese painting both emphasize finishing in one go, once you put down the brush and paint again next time, the feeling is different, right?”
He turned his head to look at her, just as he met her gaze.

“What style do you paint in? I’m especially curious.”
Bian Ranxin looked at him with bright eyes.

“I’m only an amateur hobbyist. In front of professionals like you, my little bit of skill is just showing off in front of experts.”

“Not necessarily. Art depends on talent, and it’s not true that the longer you practice, the better you’ll definitely become. I’ve even seen people who studied for several years at university and ended up worse than they were when they were teenagers.”

“You started learning to paint very young?”

“No.” She snorted through her nose. “During the summer vacation of the year I entered high school, I studied in Teacher He’s art class for a month. At that time, I still hadn’t decided to take this path. By the time I was in senior year, I found my grades weren’t good, so I crammed at the last minute and focused on painting for a few months, and then I got in.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Yan Dongcheng was somewhat surprised. “You look like a studious girl who was good at both character and academics at school.”

“My grades were pretty good earlier on. When I got to sophomore year, they dropped sharply. Only Chinese was a little better, and by the college entrance exam I was short of full marks.”

“You like literature?”

“How do you count as liking it? Does reading some casual books count?”

“Yes, it counts!” Yan Dongcheng nodded. “If inspiration suddenly comes, I also write some prose and little poems. I’m like that.”

“You?” Bian Ranxin burst out laughing.
She lifted her hand to sweep the hair behind her head, tilting her face up and tossing her glossy hair.

“What? You think I’m a rough person and couldn’t possibly write poetry?” Yan Dongcheng smiled at her.

Women liked to use the way they touched their hair to display their charm, and her hair, her posture, were perfect.

The gray-pink dress set off her fair skin, giving her a misty feeling, making it impossible not to look at her a few more times.

Because at first glance it only felt like muddled beauty, and one always wanted to see more clearly.

Some people suited vivid colors, or strong black and white, while she suited this kind of gray-toned, hazy warm color.

“Not that,” Bian Ranxin’s clear voice carried a trace of amusement. “It’s not that I think you can’t write poetry, I think you probably just don’t have the leisure to write poetry.”

“I’m too busy with work now, and I really don’t have much leisure for writing poetry. What about you, do you write poetry now?”

“I don’t. I’m very busy too.”

“Did you write before, when you were a student?”

“Mm, I wrote some.”
Her lips curved into a crescent, and her gaze was calm as she looked at him.

A trace of guilt flashed through Yan Dongcheng’s heart. He seemed to be using her goodwill to achieve his own purpose.

Without realizing it, the two of them finished one exhibition hall and followed the empty corridor toward another.

The spotlights shone on the decorative pieces on the wall, and the narrow corridor was dim and gloomy, with only patches of light visible on the walls.

“Do I count as your friend now?” Bian Ranxin came very close, as if whispering in his ear. “Or am I still your suspect?”

“The Bai Yong case has already been closed, there is no suspect.” @More great stories, at Jinjiang Literature City

“Oh? You found the killer?”

“If the killer wasn’t found, the bureau closed it as a suicide case.”

“Is there a problem? Don’t you think Bai Yong was a suicide?”

“What I personally think isn’t important. In court, we have to speak with evidence.”

“Mm, then let’s leave it at that.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to get dragged into unrelated matters, so from now on don’t mention the name Bai Yong to me again.”

Compared with the polite and attentive meeting in her office last time, the person before Yan Dongcheng now seemed to have revealed her true nature.

“You don’t like Bai Yong, you don’t like Bai Yong’s songs,” he stopped walking and turned to stare at her, “why?”

“I like what I like, what does it matter?” She retreated half a step, like a feline animal that had suddenly exploded, and growled at him, “I’ve never liked school, so I also don’t like the people in school. I have the freedom to like what I like!”

Yan Dongcheng subconsciously raised his hand, wanting to hold her shoulder and make her calm down.
It wasn’t appropriate, the corridor was too long, the lighting was too dim, and she was too beautiful.

She backed against the wall, eyes wide as she looked at him, a clear sheen of water glimmering in them.

Yan Dongcheng froze, involuntarily pondering the meaning in her gaze.
Was it that, as long as the other side made a move, she would immediately take action in anger, roaring as she bit the enemy’s throat?

Her cheeks.
Her wide-open eyes flickered a few times, like a full moon half-covered by clouds and mist, slowly turning into soft crescent shapes, gazing at him in a hazy daze.

The air froze. Yan Dongcheng heard his own breathing, then heard hers.

If they had met under a different circumstance, if today his first meeting with her had been purely accidental rather than arranged by him on purpose, this moment in front of him probably would have been different.

Yan Dongcheng had no struggle in his heart, he clearly knew his choice, only this moment still made him reluctant to let go.

The woman in front of him looked more like an innocent girl, and he had to cruelly peel open her wound layer by layer, peering into the secret in her heart.
She must have hidden something, about Bai Yong and Old Liu, on this point Yan Dongcheng had no doubt.

“Bian Ranxin,” Yan Dongcheng’s voice was hoarse, “you had dealings with Bai Yong. The lyrics of that song Bai Yong sang were written by you, right?”

“You came specially all the way here just to ask me this?”

So after all his painstaking setup, it was still for that Bai Yong case! Bian Ranxin was enraged, and the warmth from a moment ago vanished instantly.

“I’m a stubborn person,” Yan Dongcheng’s tone was firm. “Once I have a question, I must find the answer. Why did you hide things from the past? You and Bai Yong absolutely had dealings!”

“I didn’t hide anything! I haven’t seen Bai Yong since I graduated from high school. Your baseless speculation is beneath the standard of a criminal investigation captain!”

“There is only one truth,” Yan Dongcheng braced one hand against the wall and stared at her face, “I won’t give up searching for the truth.”

She opened her mouth, straightened her body, and pressed against the wall, her bright eyes wide open, meeting his gaze without the slightest sign of weakness.

She looked fearless, her expression full of anger at being falsely suspected.
Of course, there was another possibility, that she was certain the police couldn’t find evidence of her crime, and so she was fearless.

Yan Dongcheng stared at her eyes. The two of them stayed locked in a stare.
Her brown pupils slowly widened, like transparent dark crystal balls, sparkling and flashing, drawing him into a dreamlike land.

“This time you won’t tell the truth,” Yan Dongcheng stepped back as if shocked by electricity, “I hope next time we meet, you’ll have something to tell me!”

He turned without hesitation and walked toward the way he had come.

“If next time,” Bian Ranxin shouted after his back with all her strength, “you come looking for me about Bai Yong, I’ll go complain to the municipal bureau about you! You’re using the excuse of investigating a crime to harass me, and it’s an old case that’s already been closed!”

The corner of Yan Dongcheng’s mouth twitched slightly, and he strode out. She really was competitive, an absolutely unwilling-to-lose personality, not even willing to swallow a single loss in words.
He did not linger, and after leaving the gallery he went straight home.

After dinner, Yan Dongcheng sat at his desk and wrote private notes.
He was more used to writing with a fountain pen than typing on a computer, and after years of practice he had developed a beautiful fountain-pen hand.

At first, this habit formed out of the need for confidentiality in criminal investigation work. Now when he picked up a pen, ideas flowed endlessly, and typing on a computer instead felt somewhat unfamiliar.

He wrote down his plan in the schedule column, that if he had to work overtime on the weekend, he would take the high-speed train to Jiangcheng...

The criminal investigation detachment was busy every day, and in Wulipo, a shantytown undergoing demolition, another unidentified corpse had been found.

Yan Dongcheng still remembered Wang Rui saying he wanted to talk to him about something, but Wang Rui himself seemed to have forgotten, and on the several occasions he saw Yan Dongcheng, he never brought it up.

One weekend evening, Yan Dongcheng, working overtime, was eating a boxed meal alone in the office when Wang Rui suddenly walked in carrying a bag of takeout.
Yan Dongcheng stood up holding his lunch box, went to the tea table, and motioned for Wang Rui to sit down.

Wang Rui took the takeout boxes out of the bag and laid out a few braised dishes and stir-fries.
“Captain Yan, today is the weekend, let’s have a meal together.”

“What has you so happy, Wang Rui?”

“It’s not really a happy matter...” Wang Rui touched his earlobe, his upturned phoenix eyes slightly red at the corners.

“Then don’t say it!” @More great stories, at Jinjiang Literature City
Yan Dongcheng pretended to be angry, scooped a spoonful of Twice-Cooked Pork with sauce into the white rice, picked up the lunch box, and lowered his head to eat.

“Captain Yan,” Wang Rui said hesitantly, “the Bai Yong case has already been closed. Can the suspects also have their suspicions cleared?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Yan Dongcheng focused on eating, not even raising his head.

“I want to invite... someone to eat, do you think there’s any problem?”

“You want to invite Old Liu to eat?”

“No,” Wang Rui scratched his head. “Why would I invite Old Liu!”

Yan Dongcheng understood Wang Rui’s thoughts. He put down his lunch box, looked at the wood grain on the tea table, hesitated for a long time, and then spoke.
“Do you want to hear my personal opinion, or the official one?”

“I want to hear both.”

“Officially speaking, the Bai Yong case has already been closed. The suspects involved before are no longer objects of suspicion for us police. Who you want to invite to eat is none of my business.”

“And your personal opinion?”