Chapter 7

"White Yong is dead." Yan Dongcheng suddenly said.

"Ah?" Bian Ranxin widened her eyes in surprise, her gaze bright.

"We found White Yong's remains in Que Ming Mountain."

"How terrible! What happened? Murder?"

"We are investigating."

"So that's why you came to see me... After I graduated, I had no contact with White Yong anymore, but in my impression, White Yong was a very kind boy. If there's anything I can help with, please just say so."

"Mm, we may have to trouble Miss Bian again. Miss Bian, where were you during the Spring Festival last year?"

"Last Spring Festival, I was in France, taking advantage of the Spring Festival holiday to go out with my parents. Because my parents are old, I didn't arrange the itinerary too tightly. I remember staying in Paris for a week, then going to southern France."

"At the end of March, the beginning of April?"

"At the end of March, the beginning of April? Hmm... I don't remember the specifics very clearly. The company has my itinerary records." She turned to her female assistant and said, "Lucy, print out my itinerary from last year and give them both a copy."

"Okay." The assistant answered and walked out.

"Thank you." Yan Dongcheng nodded.

"Have some tea, don't be polite!"

She stood up and walked to the tea cabinet, took out a paper box printed with a crane pattern, and placed it in front of the guests.

"Try this, there's a dessert workshop on the fourteenth floor, their desserts are especially good."

"Thank you, no need." Wang Rui hurriedly waved his hand.

The pudding cakes in the box were made like works of art, finger-length pieces, each one with a different pattern and color, and probably a different flavor too.

Yan Dongcheng picked up a dessert with a yellow base and brown tea-colored bird pattern, caught it against his chin with one hand, and bit into it. Sure enough, it was mango chocolate flavor.

"Good, isn't it?" Bian Ranxin looked at Yan Dongcheng, a childlike smile appearing on her face.

Yan Dongcheng smiled and nodded. He had never seen a woman in her thirties with such a smile.

Of the people who saw her, probably half would like her very much, and the other half would hate her, because of her unabashed excellence and confidence.

And among the half who liked her, there must be a few who would go through fire and water for her without hesitation.

Was White Yong or Old Liu one of them?

"Miss Bian, have you been to Hokkaido?" Yan Dongcheng asked casually while wiping his hands with a tissue.

"Hokkaido?" Bian Ranxin looked puzzled. "Because of work, I often go to Japan. I like Kyoto and Osaka more, I haven't been to Hokkaido yet."

"Are you single?"

"Yes." Her tone rose at the end, her faint eyebrows lifted, and she looked at Yan Dongcheng with a smile in her eyes.

Yan Dongcheng was stunned for a moment.

Every question he asked was ordinary police questioning, but somehow, there was a hint of a private conversation in it.

Yan Dongcheng was just about to ask something else when Bian Ranxin's phone rang.

"Sorry." She signaled to Yan Dongcheng and slowly answered the call. "Hello, this is..."

Her voice was rough and hoarse, as if a hand had suddenly clamped around her throat, and she struggled in suffocation to make a dying sound.

When she met Yan Dongcheng's astonished gaze, she sprang to her feet, turned her back to him, and strode quickly toward the floor-to-ceiling window.

"Mm, mm..."

After answering the phone with two difficult mms, she regained her earlier professionally trained, announcer-like voice. "It's like this, Mr. Chen, for this Milan Fashion Week, my company has a total of three shows..."

Yan Dongcheng turned to look at Wang Rui. Wang Rui didn't care, and took the throat lozenges he carried with him from his pocket, unwrapped one, and put it into his mouth.

Backlit, Bian Ranxin's figure stood elegantly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, slender and full of strength. She must have kept up her exercise for many years.

Her light flaxen hair was dazzlingly bright, the length just reaching her shoulders, with a curve as if a breeze had passed through it.

She chatted and laughed on the phone, her voice beautiful, her speaking pace neither fast nor slow. The person on the other end of the line listening to her must have been wearing a smile.

Everything about her was still perfect.

Bian Ranxin put away her phone and returned to the sofa chair to sit down.

"Sorry, I've been pretty busy lately, preparing to attend Fashion Week."

"We've taken up your time." Yan Dongcheng nodded regretfully. "Does Miss Bian know Old Liu?"

"That guitarist Old Liu, White Yong's good friend?"

"Yes, you know him?"

"Not exactly. We lived in the same building when we were little, and we didn't really talk much. I remember that when I was in high school, he often came to the school to look for White Yong. I often ran into them on the way to and from school."

"Did they strike up conversation with you?"

"No. I was very timid and introverted then, and didn't really talk to boys, let alone someone like Old Liu who mixed with the underworld."

"Did you see them after graduation?"

"No."

"So White Yong and Old Liu were very close friends? How close?"

"Hmm... I only know that when we were in school, they often played together, probably because they both liked music."

"Did you hear White Yong sing?"

"I couldn't not hear it," Bian Ranxin said with a light laugh. "As soon as the bell rang after class, he would sit at his desk and start singing, and he was very loud, you could hear it in the hallway. Every arts performance at the school had him in it. He really did sing well."

"Have you heard songs White Yong wrote himself?"

"The ones he sang in the classroom during breaks all seemed to be pop songs. As for whether there were any original songs he wrote himself, I'm not too sure..."

"White Yong only wrote one song, for you." Yan Dongcheng watched Bian Ranxin.

"For me?" Bian Ranxin's expression changed slightly. "I didn't know that. He never told me. When I was in high school, my health wasn't very good, and because art school entrance exams required specialized exam preparation, I often asked for leave and didn't go to school, so I had very little interaction with my classmates."

"Quite a nice song." Wang Rui took out his phone. "I'll play it for you."

The sound of a guitar began, and Bian Ranxin frowned almost imperceptibly.

Who loves autumn cicadas, and also hates autumn cicadas,
Plants a pomegranate, yet cherishes xing lan.
Pomegranate blossoms fall all along the water's edge,
The petals that have wept,
Are like my shattered wine cup,
Unable to be restored to their original form...

"That really is White Yong's voice." Bian Ranxin shifted her knees uncomfortably and changed her sitting posture. "But his voice sounds a little older than when he was in school, and also a bit deeper."

Yan Dongcheng said nothing, listening intently to the song, his eyes quietly fixed on her.

By the second half of the song, White Yong's singing seemed like a heart-rending wail.

Bian Ranxin's ankles were tightly crossed, the muscles in her calves tense. Her skirt covered her knees, but it was still clear that her knees were pressed together nervously.

Her face was still bright, only her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she had frowned when the music started and had never been able to smooth it out again.

The song finally ended, and Wang Rui put away his phone.

"Miss Bian doesn't like this song?" Yan Dongcheng's gaze pressed on Bian Ranxin.

"It's not so much that I like it or dislike it." Bian Ranxin shifted her legs slightly, relaxing her stiff posture. "I don't really listen to pop songs."

"Do you like guitars?"

"Average, I guess."

"White Yong's song was accompanied on guitar by Old Liu."

"Oh, he played it pretty well."

"Compared with before, has he improved?"

"Much more improved." She was a little absent-minded.

"So you've heard Old Liu play guitar before?"

"Hm?" Her bright gaze met Yan Dongcheng's.

"You just said you didn't really talk with Old Liu, but you've heard him play guitar?"

"Oh." Bian Ranxin shrugged. "At school performances before, White Yong invited Old Liu to accompany him. I heard it then."

"Does Miss Bian need a copy of this song?" Wang Rui asked. "After all, it's a song written for you."

"No need. I don't want to listen to this kind of music." Her face turned cold.

The atmosphere became a little tense. But when Yan Dongcheng and Wang Rui took their leave, Bian Ranxin still stood up as if nothing had happened and sent them to the elevator.

"If you have anything to ask me next time, please come directly to my office. Of course, even if you have nothing, you're welcome to come by anytime." Her face carried a smile, her words were attentive, as gentle as a spring breeze.

"Okay." The instant the elevator doors closed, Wang Rui couldn't help but wave. "Miss Bian, goodbye..."

The elevator doors closed mercilessly, freezing Bian Ranxin's smile outside the door.

"What are you doing?" As the elevator descended, Yan Dongcheng glared at Wang Rui.

"Hospitality is hard to refuse." Wang Rui avoided Yan Dongcheng's gaze. "Beautiful things, everyone likes them, don't they?"

"Mm, that's right."

"You don't suspect her, do you? Captain Yan!" Wang Rui looked at Yan Dongcheng through the mirrored elevator doors and said loudly, "I don't think that's possible! A woman like her wouldn't even give a man like White Yong a second glance."

Yan Dongcheng was silent.

The elevator's bright metal walls barely had any fingerprints, probably because cleaning staff wiped them down all the time.

Yan Dongcheng thought of the semicircular colored lights on White Yong's ceiling, and Bian Ranxin standing in the clouds. They really did not belong to the same world. The pair of gold-buckled, crocodile-pattern leather shoes White Yong wore would probably, in Bian Ranxin's eyes, be vulgar, low-class things.

"She is very sensitive to sound." After walking out of the elevator, Yan Dongcheng said.

"Hm? Captain Yan, what do you mean?" Wang Rui turned back to look at Yan Dongcheng.

"She actually doesn't dislike music, she just doesn't like White Yong and Old Liu."

"That makes sense, I saw that too. But it's understandable, a beautiful middle school girl disliking boys who had a crush on her, that's reasonable, right?"

"And those were two people who often blocked her on the way to and from school."