The symbol of the “Floating Light” dark web was a peacock feather drifting amidst motes of light. Light shone upon it from all directions, but instead of illuminating it, the light washed away its original colors, dyeing it pitch black.

The leader of “Floating Light,” codenamed “Black Peacock,” was a figure who had never appeared in public; even their gender remained a mystery. They seemingly rarely left Country E, where “Floating Light” originated, yet their name could be found in every case that occurred wherever the organization’s influence reached.

Both Sha Man and Yu Qianming had personally mentioned “Black Peacock.” Sha Man had once wanted to meet “Black Peacock” but was stopped by “Gray Peacock,” Bai Lingxue. It was unknown whether Sha Man still firmly believed in the existence of “Black Peacock” in the final moments of his life, but at the very least, Yu Qianming still believed that “Gray Peacock” was merely a subordinate of “Black Peacock.”

The reason was simple: “Gray Peacock” was just a good-looking young man. Handling the transactions for a single country was already difficult enough; for an organization as massive as “Floating Light,” the one calling the final shots had to be someone else.

Ling Lie rested his right hand on the display screen, his fingers unconsciously hovering over Bai Lingxue’s face. “That day at Rongmei, when Bai Lingxue mentioned Yin Hanshan to me, he said that while ‘Sinking Gold’ was on the verge of destruction, the core remained, and a comeback wasn’t impossible. Yin Hanshan hoped that he would infiltrate as an informant to obtain the clues needed to crush ‘Sinking Gold’ in one stroke.”

“But later, Yin Hanshan disappeared inexplicably. This prompted Bai Lingxue to turn dark. He said he returned to ‘Sinking Gold,’ transformed it into ‘Floating Light,’ and personally entered the country for revenge. In this process, where was ‘Black Peacock’?” Ling Lie said, “If it’s truly as he said, that he is merely a subordinate of ‘Black Peacock’ responsible for missions within our borders, why would ‘Black Peacock’ indulge his reckless behavior?”

Ji Chenjiao rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.

Ling Lie hopped down from the edge of the desk and paced behind Ji Chenjiao. Not satisfied with just spinning himself around, he annoyingly started spinning Ji Chenjiao’s swivel chair.

Ji Chenjiao: “…” He was getting dizzy!

Ling Lie: Fine, I’ll spin it the other way.

Ji Chenjiao, at the end of his patience: “Stop!”

Ling Lie shut his mouth.

Ji Chenjiao: “I didn’t tell you to stop analyzing!”

“Hahahaha!” Ling Lie laughed, then continued, “This kind of grandiose revenge looks very satisfying, but it actually severely damaged the interests of ‘Floating Light.’ They spent years establishing mutually beneficial relationships with major domestic enterprises and families. With Bai Lingxue messing things up like this, those efforts have basically gone down the drain. Why would ‘Black Peacock’ agree to that?”

“So, I think there is only one possibility: ‘Black Peacock’ is Bai Lingxue.” Ling Lie continued, “Only after this revenge is exacted will the other operations of ‘Floating Light’ formally proceed. All of this is something Bai Lingxue can decide for himself without asking anyone for instructions. Unless…”

Ji Chenjiao looked up. “Unless what?”

Ling Lie crossed his arms. “Unless Bai Lingxue lied about Yin Hanshan, and he isn’t Ah Xue at all, nor is he the Yan Xi you knew.”

Ji Chenjiao fell silent for a few seconds, then shook his head. “No, he should be Yan Xi.”

Ling Lie: “Same feeling.”

Both of them fell silent, recalling the man who had muddied the waters. The difference was that Ling Lie thought of a snowy white world, and a thinly clad, incredibly frail little boy. Ah Xue was always worried; when he didn’t speak, he seemed like a timid little girl.

For many years, Ling Lie avoided thinking about Ah Xue, because every time he did, he felt guilty. Subconsciously, Ah Xue was dead, yet he didn’t want Ah Xue to be dead.

When Ah Xue actually stood before him, he felt his imagination was simply too impoverished. Ah Xue had actually become the new master of the defunct “Sinking Gold.”

Ling Lie’s phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at it, and didn’t answer.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Who is it? Why aren’t you answering?”

Ling Lie said, “Yu Yesheng.”

Ji Chenjiao opened his mouth but didn’t speak.

Yu Yesheng had been calling Ling Lie frequently these days. On one hand, after the life-and-death moments at Rongmei, Ling Lie had become a savior in his heart. The conflicts from their childhood no longer existed; he was now just like Shen Qi, bent on becoming Ling Lie’s lackey. As soon as the Major Crimes Unit mentioned needing the Yu family’s cooperation for an investigation, he was so active he almost pitched a tent at the bureau, terrified of missing out.

But on the other hand, it was because of Ji Chenjiao.

The Yu family was currently in chaos, but Yu Qianming was bent on acknowledging Ji Chenjiao and bringing him back. Ji Chenjiao had clearly expressed his refusal, but the Yu family sent people to lobby him every few days. Yu Yesheng was the one who came the most. When Ji Chenjiao ignored him, he contacted Ling Lie.

“Yu Qianming, that old fox. He’s about to kick the bucket, yet he’s still full of wicked schemes,” Ling Lie started cursing before Ji Chenjiao could say anything.

Ji Chenjiao raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

“He’s plotting designs on you, without even looking at whose person you are!”

Ling Lie spoke with bluster, carrying an air of supreme authority. Ji Chenjiao had been feeling a bit annoyed initially, but seeing him like this, he instantly relaxed.

Regarding the matter of not returning to the Yu family, Ji Chenjiao had been resolute from start to finish. The mother in his memories remained a blur, and he had no sense of belonging to the massive entity that was the Yu family. He would rather keep the name Ji Chenjiao than inherit some multi-billion fortune.

Moreover, Yu Qianming’s true goal was absolutely not to retrieve the Yu family bloodline, but to find an opportunity for the gasping Yu family to revitalize itself—Ji Chenjiao was a significant figure in the Xiarong City police force. Pulling him back into the Yu family would give them an additional shield against the wind and rain in the future. But conversely, Ji Chenjiao’s future would become murky and uncertain.

Perhaps some people would be blinded by wealth, but Ji Chenjiao would not. He always knew clearly that he graduated from the Public Security University and was the Captain of the Major Crimes Unit in Xiarong City; no evil or filth could touch him.

“I’ll handle Yu Yesheng. Our Little Ji just needs to work hard and look pretty in his uniform, okay?” Ling Lie patted Ji Chenjiao’s shoulder.

Ji Chenjiao’s eyelid twitched. What do you mean ‘look pretty in his uniform’!

Ji Chenjiao grabbed Ling Lie’s flailing paw. Ling Lie tugged, but couldn’t pull it back.

The two looked at each other silently for a moment before Ji Chenjiao suddenly said, “I’ve been convincing myself to accept that bizarre life history these past few days. It’s not very easy.”

The corners of Ling Lie’s round eyes stretched slightly, and his gaze immediately turned gentle. “I know. Our Little Ji has had it hard.”

Ji Chenjiao shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I’m a Yu family member or not, and it doesn’t matter who my parents were. What I care about most is that you and I actually shared a name.”

Yu Ge.

Ling Lie was stunned; his round eyes held only Ji Chenjiao.

“You might not be able to understand that feeling.” Ji Chenjiao struggled to express that strange, surprised, fortunate, and retrospective fear. “What I need to digest properly has never been the fact that I come from the Yu family, but that I used to be Yu Ge, and you used to be Yu Ge too.”

“Do you remember I said I occasionally have the same dream?”

Ling Lie’s eyes were still a bit blank, but he nodded. “Yeah, you’re on a mission, but you feel that when people call you, they aren’t calling you.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “As soon as I wake up, I forget that name. But now, if I dream that dream again, I will definitely know that the person they are calling in the dream is Yu Ge.”

As Ji Chenjiao spoke, he wrapped his arms around Ling Lie’s waist, his voice slightly muffled compared to usual. “Ling Lie, before I even met you, I was constantly dreaming about the missions you were executing.”

After a moment, Ling Lie laughed. “Nonsense, didn’t we meet when we were kids?”

Ji Chenjiao exhaled. “True.”

Ling Lie asked, “Then tell me, what kind of missions was I executing?”

How could things in a dream be explained clearly? Ji Chenjiao forgot most of it every time he woke up; only that atmosphere, so tense it gripped every nerve, remained in his memory.

The missions Ling Lie executed were far more dangerous than the ones he undertook in the Major Crimes Unit or the Special Criminal Mixed Team.

“I don’t know,” Ji Chenjiao said. “What missions were you executing?”

Ling Lie said, “So you were setting a trap to make me tell you stories.”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t confirm or deny it. “So, will you tell me?”

Ling Lie thought for a while. “I usually acted alone, then waited for my teammates to come save me. I didn’t suffer many physical injuries because I’m clever.”

When he said this, he tilted his chin up slightly, revealing a hint of bragging.

“It was just that the psychological burden was heavy. Hanging around crazy, evil criminals for a long time… even an angel would fall and become a devil.” Ling Lie paused. “Not that I’m saying I’m an angel.”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

“Sigh, actually, there’s not much to say.” Ling Lie scratched his hair—a tactical diversion—and glanced at Ji Chenjiao out of the corner of his eye.

Ji Chenjiao noticed the small action. Of course there was nothing “good” to say. If he really spoke of it, it would inevitably be stories of life and death, split-second decisions, narrow escapes, and thrilling dangers. How could Ling Lie talk about that?

When people recount their experiences, they are almost always beautified by time, picking out the parts that don’t hurt. But Ling Lie couldn’t pick out many relaxing moments; for the past ten years, he had lived a life hanging by a thread. Why his emotions collapsed after Xiao Yuan left the team, to the point of taking a long leave from the Special Action Team—Ji Chenjiao could understand all of it without needing the details spoken aloud.

Ling Lie was still rambling on about less important fragments when Ji Chenjiao reached out and pulled him into his arms.

Ling Lie: “Huh?”

Ji Chenjiao said, “We don’t have to talk about it.”

Ling Lie’s eyes narrowed into fox-like slits. He had gotten his way and still acted innocent. “You’re the one who wanted to hear it, and you’re the one who doesn’t want to hear it. Troublesome Little Ji.”

---

The Municipal Bureau had meetings frequently these days. Ji Chenjiao naturally had to attend every single one, though Ling Lie didn’t necessarily have to. Before getting off work, Ji Chenjiao was called away temporarily. Ling Lie didn’t wait for him and went to buy groceries alone.

It was the turn of autumn into winter, and the streets and alleys of Xiarong City were filled with drifting yellow leaves.

The cool wind blew briskly, but it wasn’t cold enough to chill the bones. People added thick clothes, not rushing about as hurriedly as they did in the intense heat or bitter winter.

Ling Lie also slowed his pace, taking deep breaths amidst the city full of autumn vibes.

Such a season made people unconsciously lazy. The year was almost over; the heaviest work was done, and the war-like Spring Festival hadn’t arrived yet. There was plenty of time to relax.

Ling Lie walked halfway and actually felt tired. He sat down on a long wooden bench by the community park, staring blankly at the older ladies square dancing.

Previously, when he learned that Wei Zhiyong once had the chance to become a member of the Special Action Team but gave it up for Feng City, he couldn’t understand it. Until recently, he still held a mindset of respect but disagreement.

But unaware of when it started, he gradually felt that he could understand Wei Zhiyong, and even understand Xiao Yuan.

The Special Action Team undertook the most dangerous and bizarre missions. Many times, he didn’t even know who he was protecting; he only had a very conceptual understanding of “protection.”

But after coming to Xiarong City, everything became vivid and distinct.

The kid learning to rollerblade with a coach over there, the older ladies dancing with their speakers over here, all kinds of ordinary people, and… Little Ji.

They changed from “concepts” into living, breathing people.

He felt happy.

A child who couldn’t brake came charging over, screaming, waving his hands and shouting, “Brother! Brother! Move out of the way! I’m going to crash into you!”

Ling Lie stood up, smiled, bent slightly, and opened his arms toward the child.

The child slammed solidly into Ling Lie’s embrace. He wasn’t hurt at all, but he started crying sadly, “Brother, did I hurt you?”

Ling Lie put on a pained face and said, “Brother hurts so much. Brother is going to die.”

The child cried even harder. “Waaah—”

The coach and parents rushed over, thanking Ling Lie profusely. The child shouted, “Brother is hurt, boo hoo hoo!”

Of course, Ling Lie wasn’t hurt. Before leaving, the child forcibly stuffed a lollipop into his hand.

Ling Lie walked holding a plastic bag of groceries in one hand and swinging the lollipop with the other, thinking about feeding it to Little Ji when he got back. As he swung it, his steps suddenly slowed.

When Little Ji mentioned the Yu family this afternoon, there was a deeper shadow hidden in his eyes. Little Ji didn’t say it, but he could see it. He also knew it wasn’t that Little Ji wasn’t honest enough with him, but that some things were hard to say even to the person you were most intimate with.

Just like how he didn’t know how to describe those missions where he risked his life.

In the matter of hiding worries, they seemed to have reached a silent understanding.

Little Ji cared very much about his origins—not the Yu family, but the real Yu Qin and his unknown father.

Ling Lie had heard Ji Chenjiao mention more than once the malice he often sensed as a child. He thought it came from blood relations. Later, when clues pointed to him and Yu Qin possibly being mother and son, he immediately wondered if Yu Qin’s evil corresponded to his own.

But the fact was, Sha Man wasn’t the real Yu Qin. The real Yu Qin was a naive, gentle woman.

Then what about the man who got her pregnant?

Who was this man?

In Sha Man’s retelling, this man couldn’t be an ordinary person from Country L. Was Yu Qin still alive? Why did they not ask or care for so many years after their son was taken back to the country by Sha Man and then lost?

The sky was getting dark earlier and earlier. Scattered lights had already lit up in the family quarters not far away.

Ling Lie stood by the road waiting for the traffic light.

The police had a heavy burden right now. “Floating Light” was like a mountain crushing down on them. Ji Chenjiao stared at Bai Lingxue like a beast waiting for revenge; he wanted to tear out Bai Lingxue’s throat and also rescue Ning Xiechen.

He had no energy left to think about his biological parents.

The pedestrian light turned green. As Ling Lie took the first step, he thought: Then I will investigate this end of things myself.

---

When Ji Chenjiao returned home after eight o’clock, Ling Lie had already whipped up a pot of braised pork. The heat had just been turned off, he hadn’t had time to plate it, and he hadn’t even taken off his apron.

Ji Chenjiao was a bit impatient, circling Ling Lie by the sink. Ling Lie’s hands were covered in sauce, so he couldn’t push Ji Chenjiao away.

The two kissed for a while. Ji Chenjiao let him go, then leaned toward Ling Lie’s right hand and licked away a drop of sauce that was about to drip.

---

Xiarong University. The autumn wind swept up fallen leaves on the ground. Under the streetlights, students who had just finished their evening classes walked toward the dormitories in groups of three or five.

Xiarong University was the best institution of higher learning in Xiarong City. The school spirit was good, there was no chaos on campus, and the environment was superior. There was a large lake that bloomed full of lotus flowers as soon as summer arrived. However, now that the season had passed and the dry season was approaching, the lake water looked somewhat desolate, and the small island in the center of the lake was exposed, allowing one to cross over by stepping on stones.

Surrounding the lake was a ring of grassy slopes and woods. Evening was the peak time for memorizing texts; students used the streetlights to read English or memorize formulas. Although there were many people, the lake was large enough that their voices didn’t disturb one another.

Zhang Chunquan stood by the lake, holding a book in his hand, but he wasn’t reading or memorizing. He stared listlessly at the small island in the center of the lake opposite him. He had intended to go over, but halfway there, he realized there was someone on the island, so he had to retreat. He had been standing here for half an hour.

People nearby left one after another. A few noticed his odd behavior and couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times as they passed.

Suddenly, he heard a burst of relaxed female voices—

“Come on, come on, let me recommend this novel to you. It’s ‘Infinite Flow,’ really good!”

“What is ‘Infinite Flow’?”

“You don’t even know Infinite Flow? It’s where there are two worlds, a surface one and an inner one, and you go to the inner world to fight monsters and adventure.”

“Then what if you die?”

“Uh-oh, then you die in the real world too, I guess.”

Zhang Chunquan’s scalp went numb. He turned to look in the direction of the voice. Under a streetlight not far away sat two girls with open books on their laps, leaning together to look at a phone.

He knew them; they were students from the same college as him and had taken public electives together.

He quickly turned around, as if afraid his secret would be pried into by others. But just then, one of the girls looked up and shouted, “Zhang Chunquan? You’re here to memorize too? How come I didn’t see you just now?”

Zhang Chunquan’s expression was a bit stiff, but it was hard to tell under the cover of night. “Xiao… Xiao Mi.”

The girl who called him was named Xiao Mi. She was very lively and quickly ran over, looking at the book in his hand. “Did your class mark the key points? Let me see!”

Zhang Chunquan let Xiao Mi take the book. Xiao Mi waved her classmate over to look together, delighted. “Hey, these notes are more extensive than our class’s. Can I borrow it to mark mine?”

Zhang Chunquan just wanted to leave quickly. “Sure.”

After Xiao Mi finished marking, she returned the book to Zhang Chunquan and checked the time. “We’re pretty much done memorizing. Want to walk back together?”

More and more people were coming from the other direction. To get back to the dorms from the lakeside, they had to pass the spot where they were standing. Zhang Chunquan felt very uncomfortable; if he didn’t leave now, there would be even more people in a moment.

He had to say, “I’m going back too.”

The three walked together. Xiao Mi was a social butterfly; even though she had only taken classes with Zhang Chunquan before, she was already sharing the “Infinite Flow” novel she was reading with him.

She repeated what she had just told her classmate to Zhang Chunquan. Zhang Chunquan’s face grew paler and paler, and he responded mechanically, “Okay, okay, I’ll look for it when I get back.”

The male and female dormitories were in different directions on either side of the cafeteria. When they reached the point where they had to part ways, Zhang Chunquan let out a long breath. Xiao Mi, however, spoke as if she hadn’t had enough yet. After Zhang Chunquan left, the classmate tugged at Xiao Mi’s hand and said guardedly, “That classmate of yours… why is he so weird?”

Xiao Mi said, “What do you mean ‘my classmate’? He’s in the same college as both of us.”

The classmate shook her head. “There are so many people in our college, I don’t know him. And you, striking up a conversation so casually. Be careful you don’t run into a crazy person.”

Xiao Mi widened her eyes. “No way!”

“Why not? Are there few people in our school who study themselves crazy? Which year doesn’t have someone causing a scene or jumping off a building? I’m most afraid of these people who drill into dead ends. Also, he wasn’t acting normal when talking to you. He obviously didn’t want to talk to you, and his face turned white.”

“Eh? How come I didn’t know?”

“With your reaction arc, you only know how to fawn over your 2D anime husbands!”

The two chatted as they walked toward the dormitory. Although Xiao Mi had been lectured, she didn’t take the matter to heart. Two days later, when she met Zhang Chunquan again during a public elective, she asked him if he had read the book she mentioned.

There were no other students around Zhang Chunquan’s seat. Hearing this, he nodded awkwardly. “I read it.”

Xiao Mi remembered her classmate’s “unpleasant advice,” puffed out her cheeks, and decided not to get too close to Zhang Chunquan anymore.

---

Xiarong City had been calm lately; the explosion at Rongmei seemed to have burned all evil to ash. But in places people couldn’t reach, darkness was still spreading.

Ji Chenjiao went to the vegetable market Yong Huihao used to own a few more times, collecting as many clues as possible. He obtained an ambiguous detail—last autumn, Yong Huihao had disappeared for about half a month.

But whether he had really disappeared, and what he had disappeared to do, no one could say clearly. Regarding this generous market boss, much of the vendors’ news was hearsay.

Ji Chenjiao took this detail to question Tang Qi’s wife. She said they had started arguing frequently since the second half of last year, and she had even gone back to her parents’ home in a fit of pique. Tang Qi often didn’t come home, and she never asked what Tang Qi was doing outside.

However, the HR department at Tang Qi’s company printed out a form showing that Tang Qi had taken annual leave from November 10th to November 20th last year.

Tang’s wife said Tang Qi hadn’t taken annual leave at all; if asked, he said he was working overtime at the company.

Putting the movements of these two sides together, a strange coincidence was revealed: Both Yong Huihao and Tang Qi had vanished from the face of the earth for a period of time.

Ling Lie wandered over to the Technical Investigation work area and saw Shen Qi and a few colleagues huddled together chatting about something.

“What good stuff do you have? Let me see.”

“Bro!” Shen Qi said, “We’re looking at news from other places!”

Ling Lie glanced at it. “Missing persons?”

Shen Qi said proudly, “It’s getting close to the end of the year, missing person cases happen frequently, but our security is good. Nothing has happened here.”

Ling Lie pressed down on Shen Qi’s head. “Don’t jinx it with your crow’s beak.”

Ji Chenjiao assigned Shen Qi a task: investigate the movements of Yong Huihao and Tang Qi during November of last year. Along the way, he picked up the “idling” Ling Lie and took him away.

“Honest Xia, treat your Lie-Lie better.” Ling Lie hugged the snacks he had plundered from the Tech Department. “After all, he’s been bearing the unbearable weight of life recently.”