The e-sports club was, in reality, just a legitimate internet café. However, in the eyes of the university administration, this kind of job was a gray area and was not permitted. This was likely the reason Zhang Chunquan had concealed it.

The owner of the club was under thirty and loved gaming; he had a strong impression of Zhang Chunquan.

“Him? Smart, quick reactions, played games pretty well, too. As soon as I saw his school—whoa, Xiarong University! Of course I wanted him! We have plenty of good gamers here, but he was the only one with good grades! I originally wanted to sign a long-term contract with him, but for some reason, he stopped coming in August.”

Liang Wenxian asked, “Did he ask for leave? Did he just quit, or did he intend to come back and continue working?”

The boss recalled for a moment. “I remember now. He mentioned to me that he had some business to attend to in August and asked if he could take a few days off and make it up later. We don’t really work nine-to-five shifts here, so if he wanted leave, I let him take it. I just didn’t pay him for those days, and I even saved his spot. But by August 10th or whatever date it was, the foreman told me he couldn’t reach him. That happens a lot, so I had to hire someone new. I don’t know if he ever came back later; if he did, the foreman probably chased him off.”

Liang Wenxian verified this with others at the club, and they all said Zhang Chunquan never returned. When asked if there was anything abnormal about him while he was working, everyone said they couldn’t see anything wrong. However, the foreman mentioned a peculiar point: “Zhang Chunquan liked to educate people. Maybe he stayed in the ivory tower too long; he didn’t really understand the rules of society.”

Liang Wenxian immediately asked, “Educate how?”

The foreman thought about it. “Sigh, just spouting empty, high-minded stuff. Many of our employees haven’t received higher education and are just average folks. If someone talked about a guy back in their hometown having unclear relationships with women, or several guys living with one girl, he would stand on the moral high ground and reprimand them. It’s not our employees’ fault; it’s just a phenomenon in underdeveloped areas. I felt there was really no need for his preaching.”

Currently, Zhang Chunquan’s phone could not be found. The computers he used at the club might contain clues. The foreman was reluctant to let the police take the computers, claiming they frequently wiped data and Zhang Chunquan couldn’t have left anything behind, but Liang Wenxian politely took two units away anyway.

Now Shen Qi had his hands full again. “Brother Liang is the best at finding work for me.”

Ling Lie was compiling clues from various sources in Ji Chenjiao’s notebook. The image of a young man from an urban working-class family who liked to preach to others emerged on the paper. Ling Lie bit his pen and rocked in his chair for a while. “Little Ji, have Zhang Chunquan’s family members arrived yet?”

“They’ve been notified. They’re on their way.” Ji Chenjiao steadied the chair. “Zhang Chunquan’s hometown is too far away.”

Ling Lie nodded and tried to spin again, but couldn’t move. He glared unhappily at Ji Chenjiao, and a contest of core strength versus arm strength played out between them.

An Xun, having finished his own work, poked his head out to watch the show.

Eventually, Ling Lie admitted defeat.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Any thoughts?”

Ling Lie: “Infinite…”

Ji Chenjiao: “We’ve talked about that. Pick another one.”

Ling Lie: “Then I got nothing.”

“Really nothing?”

“Honest Xia, can you be realistic? How far have we actually investigated? I’m not a fortune teller.”

Ji Chenjiao chuckled, grabbed Ling Lie’s shoulders, and spun him forcefully. “So you know how to be realistic too?”

“Dizzy! I’m getting dizzy!” Ling Lie cried for help. “Scumbag! If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought you the little dragon!”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t hear clearly. “Hm? What did you buy me?”

Ling Lie: “I bought you jack squat!”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

---

Later that evening, Zhang Chunquan’s older sister and brother-in-law arrived. They were dressed plainly, looking out of place amidst the glamour of the city. The sister’s eyes were red, and the brother-in-law did most of the talking.

They said that Zhang Chunquan had excellent grades since childhood. He was smarter than his peers and thought more than they did. The family wasn’t wealthy; his parents worked with their hands to feed him and send him to school, yet he looked down on his family. traveling across half the country to attend university was partly to get away from his original family, and partly because he felt a big city like Xiarong offered better room for development.

Over the years, Zhang Chunquan had only returned home during the winter break of his freshman year. whenever his parents asked what he was doing, he said he was working part-time. He didn’t ask the family for money, even saving up for his own tuition, hoping only that the family would interfere less with him. His parents felt bitter but told outsiders that their child was successful and living independently while still studying.

“He’s had this idea since junior high, thinking that children of urban workers are the most hopeless,” the sister said.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Why did he think that?”

The sister wiped the corner of her eye. “He seemed to believe that wealthy families have a longer-term vision and their children get more resources, so naturally, they develop better. Children from rural villages have the drive to leave their hometowns. The poorest children in the city, or orphans, have no retreat and no reservations, so they also give it their all.”

“Only families like ours… seemingly established in the city, but in reality, the older generation is short-sighted. They held ‘iron rice bowl’ jobs for most of their lives but lack culture, let alone vision. To put it nicely, they seek stability; to put it harshly, they’re just waiting to die. The previous generation was like this, and the next generation is the same. He didn’t want to be as hopeless as our parents for his whole life, so he wanted to break away from the family. He… he regarded himself too highly and felt the need to criticize any phenomenon that wasn’t perfectly moral.”

This was similar to the foreman’s account at the e-sports club, but it provided a developmental trigger. The person of Zhang Chunquan became more three-dimensional and vivid.

The sister smiled bitterly. “He had high standards for others, but he didn’t actually do well himself. Otherwise, that incident wouldn’t have happened.”

Ji Chenjiao immediately asked, “What incident?”

When Zhang Chunquan was in high school, a flood struck the city where his hometown was located. The urban area wasn’t affected much; the surrounding towns and villages suffered the most. At the time, the city mobilized many soldiers for disaster relief, and people fought desperately to save their homes. However, not many volunteers went from the urban area; mostly, it was truck drivers hauling goods. The roads in the towns were difficult to traverse, so to help, one needed a vehicle at the very least.

Zhang Chunquan, who was studying just fine, saw the news and felt a sudden explosion of responsibility. He actually organized more than ten male classmates, took a bus to the town, and hiked with backpacks to the worst-hit areas.

They had no vehicles; moving supplies relied on carrying them on their shoulders and backs. At first, the soldiers and villagers were afraid these kids would get hurt and wouldn’t let them participate. But they grabbed things and ran, giving no chance to be “persuaded to return.” Seeing that they genuinely wanted to help, everyone was moved.

After more than a week, the flash floods receded, and the media swarmed in to report on the heroic deeds during the relief efforts. While the stories of the soldiers and villagers were touching, the most attention focused on Zhang Chunquan and the students. They could have easily chosen not to participate and sat in clean, safe classrooms like their peers. Their choice magnified the brilliance of human nature, full of positive energy, youthful passion, and color.

So, the whole city’s eyes were on them. Endless praise was heaped upon them, and Zhang Chunquan, as the organizer, undoubtedly stood at the center of the spotlight. At that time, he was “traffic”; the media and the public held magnifying glasses, examining every pore on his body.

At first, this scrutiny was benevolent. People said modern society was too cold and utilitarian, and they desperately needed such pure dedication and fiery youthful passion. Even if they couldn’t do it themselves, looking at the hero-like youths was enough to make them sigh—society is still good; the world is worth it. Then, they would continue on their own mediocre paths.

But after the attention fermented without restraint, the benevolence turned sour. Some voices emerged—

“Zhang Chunquan? I was classmates with him in elementary school. He often copied homework.”

“He and another volunteer stole a lighter once.”

“Their family favors boys over girls. They had a sister, so why have a son? His sister will definitely be a ‘brother-supporting demon’ later. The sister is so pitiful!”

“Did you see that scarf? His sister didn’t knit that for him at all; my friend did! That scumbag rejected my friend but took the gift, and then lied to the media!”

It was this scarf that caused Zhang Chunquan to experience a dark period. Neither he nor his family expected that selfless and fearless rescue work would lead to such an outcome.

In middle school, Zhang Chunquan looked clean and tidy. Girls constantly confessed to him, but he wasn’t interested in dating and never accepted. A year before the flood, a girl from another school hand-knitted a scarf for Zhang Chunquan, accompanied by a love letter.

Zhang Chunquan didn’t accept it, but the girl was very sad and insisted he keep the scarf. “It’s hand-knitted. If I don’t give it to you, I can’t give it to anyone else.”

Zhang Chunquan took the scarf, went home, put it in his closet, and never wore it at school.

When going for disaster relief, hearing that the temperature on the mountain was low, he rummaged through boxes and cabinets looking for cold-weather gear. He paused for a moment when he saw the scarf. Although he remembered it was from a girl and wearing it out wasn’t quite right, his classmates were urging him to hurry. He couldn’t find another scarf, so he stuffed it into his bag.

In the disaster area, the scarf proved necessary. His figure wrapped in the scarf was captured by many cameras. The scarf gradually turned from bright colors to gray and yellow, no longer pretty, but his spirit appeared incredibly glorious in people’s eyes.

Some media dubbed him the “Scarf Boy,” and the name spread quickly. Media personnel eager to write stories asked him about the origin of the scarf, hoping to pen a touching tale.

Zhang Chunquan hesitated. He couldn’t say a female classmate gave it to him because the school had strict rules against dating, and he didn’t want to drag that girl from another school into it. But faced with the enthusiastic media, he had to say something. A boy of that age had some narcissism; after being flattered for so long, it was inevitable that it would go to his head.

Plus, hearing some voices questioning his family’s preference for sons, he told a lie.

“My sister knitted this for me. My sister and I have a very good relationship, and our parents treat us equally. My sister gives me a small gift every year. This scarf is the amulet she gave me, protecting me in the face of disaster. Although it’s dirty, in my heart, it will always be the most beautiful scarf!”

These words were more beautiful than the scarf itself. The media received perfect writing material and launched another round of lavish praise.

However, at this moment, the girl’s friend spoke up, revealing the true origin of the scarf.

People questioned Zhang Chunquan, and he stammered, unable to answer. The girl’s friend then posted photos of the knitting process. Now, everyone knew Zhang Chunquan was lying.

Public opinion gradually reversed. He went from a heroic relief youth to a hypocritical, arrogant scumbag who took advantage of others. The other students who participated were also dug up for various faults: frequent fighting, clashing with teachers, being hooligans, having terrible grades…

When the attention receded, the glory was replaced by a mess of chicken feathers.

Zhang Chunquan was depressed for a long time. He didn’t understand why a single scarf could negate his contribution to the flood relief. He was wrong about the scarf, but was he wrong to help with the disaster?

The atmosphere in the Zhang family became even more oppressive. The people in his parents’ factory were uneducated like them. They gathered to gossip, and some workers who were already jealous of the Zhang family having a hero son took the opportunity to badmouth his parents everywhere.

Zhang’s parents received cold stares outside, so naturally, they didn’t give Zhang Chunquan any kind looks when they returned home. They hadn’t approved of his going to help in the first place; they had spent their lives shrinking their shoulders, just getting by, fearing this kind of spotlight the most. Now look, Zhang Chunquan had turned them into rats crossing the street.

Only his sister could understand him. Zhang Chunquan hugged her and cried bitterly. “Sis, was I wrong to help? I lied, but if I told the truth, would it have been good for that girl?”

His sister couldn’t answer.

“Sis, I think humans are really detestable, really despicable.” As he wiped away his tears, Zhang Chunquan dropped this chilling sentence.

“Chunquan just couldn’t think it through for a while; he definitely wasn’t anti-social,” the sister said, choking back sobs. “He was still young then. After getting hurt, maybe he had a bout of ‘chunibyo’ (adolescent delusions/angst). Later, he didn’t really participate in anything outside of studying, just setting his heart on getting into a good university.”

Testing into Xiarong University from a small northern city was indeed a reward for his hard work.

“These past few years, I haven’t cared for him enough, and I know even less about him. I don’t know what he did at school, and he wasn’t willing to tell us.” The sister covered her face, her emotions finally collapsing. “It was our family that harmed him. If we were more knowledgeable, a bit richer, we could have given him more help!”

---

After seeing off the self-blaming family members, Ji Chenjiao looked at the interrogation records. The image of the dirty scarf and the desperate look in the boy’s eyes when facing doubt floated in his mind. This incident was undoubtedly the biggest rise and fall in Zhang Chunquan’s short life, but did it influence his current death?

Ling Lie had been watching surveillance footage earlier, and now he had gone back to rewatch it. When Ji Chenjiao returned to the office, he saw Ling Lie completely absorbed. He waited for a long time until Ling Lie nodded at the screen before speaking: “Got a theory?”

Ling Lie seemed to notice Ji Chenjiao’s presence only then. “Ah, Little Ji is back.”

His concentrated appearance gave Ji Chenjiao a misconception—Mr. Ling definitely had a theory!

Ji Chenjiao was ready to listen to the expert analysis, but Ling Lie suddenly said, “I think hand-knitted scarves are very meaningful.”

Ji Chenjiao almost dropped his pen. “?”

“Think about it. Wool itself is fluffy and warm, plus the warmth of the palms, the warmth brought by the friction of every stitch and thread.” Ling Lie said, “Winter is coming. With such a scarf around your neck, it must be quite warm.”

Ji Chenjiao’s eyelid twitched cheerfully. “So?”

Ling Lie looked at him with sparkling eyes. “So I decided to buy yarn!”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

Ling Lie stood up and made a gesture of offering a Hada (ceremonial scarf), draping an invisible object around Ji Chenjiao’s neck. “Just wait, Little Ji. You will soon own a Lie-Lie brand warm scarf!”

Ji Chenjiao rubbed his forehead speechlessly, thinking, what is all this? Where is the theory I wanted? The expert analysis?

Ji Chenjiao looked at Ling Lie through his fingers. Ling Lie was beaming with delight, as if saying: What do you want? You get a yarn! (Note: “Mao xian” / yarn is slang for “nothing/nonsense”).

Ji Chenjiao: “…” Well, he literally got yarn.

Ling Lie didn’t care about the storm brewing inside Little Ji’s heart and spoke without a filter: “What should I knit? A national treasure panda? The national flower, peony? Plum blossoms braving the snow? How about I knit a little dragon!”

Ji Chenjiao couldn’t even get a word in before Ling Lie clapped his hands together. “It’s decided. A little dragon!”

Ji Chenjiao took a deep breath. “Listen to me…”

Ling Lie: “Thank you?”

Ji Chenjiao almost passed out. Remembering that this person was his wife, he restrained the urge to pick him up and spank him. “Do you know how to knit? Maybe just knit a solid color?”

Ling Lie was shocked. “You look down on me?”

Ji Chenjiao: “No, no.”

Ling Lie immediately picked up his phone, his right hand tapping away like a pile driver.

Seeing his angry appearance, Ji Chenjiao thought he was booking a hotel to run away from home. He stole a glance, but Ling Lie glared back furiously, so he had to look away.

“What are you looking at? Never seen someone buy yarn?”

“…” So he was buying yarn.

After buying it, Ling Lie was full of ambition. “Not only will I knit a dragon, I’ll knit ‘Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl’!”

Shen Qi arrived just in time to hear “Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl” and was dumbfounded. “Did I just hear something that will make my ears rot?”

Ling Lie waved his hand. “Brother Qi, come here, come here. What’s up?”

Shen Qi had been very busy lately; running over here meant he definitely had serious business. Ji Chenjiao asked, “Did you find out where Zhang Chunquan went during the summer?”

Shen Qi stomped in and put down his laptop. “Didn’t find that, but I isolated a critical time period. Take a look.”

On the screen was a chart. It was high on both sides, but in the middle, sticking to the baseline, was a completely flat line.

“This is phone and account usage, including cloud data.” Shen Qi pointed to the baseline. “From August 2nd to August 21st, Zhang Chunquan didn’t use electronic payments at all, and there’s no information on the cloud either.”

A person surviving without a phone and the internet wasn’t impossible, but for a college student living in a big city, the probability was negligible.

Shen Qi frowned and said, “For these twenty days, he seems to have disappeared from our society. Otherwise, I can’t figure out why his data would be blank.”

Ling Lie rested his chin on his hand and enunciated, “In-fin-ite Flow.”

Shen Qi was stunned. “Going to the inner world for an adventure!”

Ling Lie smiled. “You read novels too?”

Shen Qi immediately opened an app. “I’m reading this one. The author is a god-tier writer called ‘Yan Xiao’. His hacker novels are amazing! Damn, if only I had the skills of his protagonists! Then there wouldn’t be any case our Major Crimes Unit couldn’t crack!”

Hearing “Yan Xiao,” Ling Lie’s eyebrows twitched.

Shen Qi said sincerely, “I really want to ask the great ‘Yan Xiao’ for an autograph!”

The two engaged in a heated exchange about recent good Infinite Flow novels. Ji Chenjiao stared silently at the chart. After a moment, he asked, “So on August 1st, where was his last internet usage? Doing what?”

Shen Qi became serious. “It was near Xiarong University. Buying mineral water, buying medicine, eating a rice bowl meal.”

Ji Chenjiao: “Buying medicine? What medicine?”

Shen Qi: “Huoxiang Zhengqi water (for heatstroke/stomach), motion sickness patches, Yunnan Baiyao, and lactasin tablets.”

Ling Lie: “He was preparing for his ‘disappearance.’ He knew he was going to a place no one could find the next day?”

Shen Qi said, “But there are no records of him leaving Xiarong City, nor did he buy any tickets.”

Ling Lie turned back. “What if someone came directly to a designated place to pick him up? Once in the car, connection to society is cut off. We can’t find out where he went from the internet; we can only see that he disappeared for twenty days.”

Ji Chenjiao dragged the mouse to August 22nd.

Shen Qi understood. “At this time, his payments returned to the vicinity of Xiarong University. Eating, buying water. But unlike before August 2nd, he started taking buses and subways frequently. Sometimes he would ride all day, seemingly without purpose, or maybe he was looking for something.”

Ling Lie said coldly, “Looking for a suitable place to die.”

Shen Qi sucked in a breath. “That… that is also possible.”

Ji Chenjiao asked, “What about Yong Huihao and Tang Qi?”

Shen Qi slapped his forehead. “Almost forgot, them too! But the time gap is longer, data is missing, so it might not be as accurate as Zhang Chunquan’s.”

As he spoke, Shen Qi opened two other charts.

Yong Huihao had no payment records from November 1st to November 17th of last year. Tang Qi had no payment records from November 12th to November 18th. Tang Qi’s “disappearance” coincided exactly with his annual leave.

The payment records before and after Yong and Tang’s “disappearance” were all in Xiarong City. This likely indicated that, like Zhang Chunquan, they were taken to a certain place by some force—a place without internet, seemingly a completely different dimension from the world we live in.

Ji Chenjiao asked, “Any findings from the computers Brother Liang brought back?”

Shen Qi said, “Found a few encrypted messages, haven’t cracked them yet.”

Ji Chenjiao patted him on the shoulder. “Good work.”

Although the Zhang Chunquan case was a suicide, his sudden change before death forced the police to take it seriously. Now that there was another layer of commonality with the Yong Huihao and Tang Qi cases, Ji Chenjiao decisively and formally incorporated this case into the Major Crimes Unit’s tasks.

Xie Qing listened to his report for a while, then put down the documents. “Junior brother, do you think this case is related to ‘Floating Light’?”

Ji Chenjiao was silent for a moment. “Frankly, my mind is a mess right now. Yu Qianming is no longer lucid. We used Zhang Chunquan to test him, and he had no reaction. Other members of the Yu family connected to ‘Floating Light’ also couldn’t provide any clues about Zhang Chunquan. But Yong Huihao, Tang Qi, and Zhang Chunquan all disappeared inexplicably. I can’t judge what they went to do, but one thing is certain: someone picked them up and eventually sent them back safely.”

Xie Qing said, “The people behind this are extremely organized and supported by immense financial power and a network of connections.”

Ji Chenjiao nodded. “Exactly, otherwise they couldn’t be this watertight. What I can’t figure out is that they all seemed to leave voluntarily and participate voluntarily. At least before disappearing, they weren’t coerced. So what exactly did they participate in? This is too strange.”

“It’s a bit like a pyramid scheme cult.”

“But cults usually target people of the same social stratum with many commonalities. These three don’t fit that profile. Also, the time was too short. If they realized something was wrong and escaped, they should have called the police after getting out.”

Xie Qing thought for a moment. “Then it’s an organization larger and more terrible than a typical cult. Even if they leave, they dare not do anything.”

Ji Chenjiao said, “That’s why I keep thinking of ‘Floating Light,’ except I can’t figure out the meaning of ‘Floating Light’ doing this.”

It wasn’t just Ji Chenjiao; even the battle-hardened Xie Qing felt this case was extremely bizarre and tricky. But there was another tricky matter in front of him.

When Ji Chenjiao was about to leave, he called him back. “Junior brother, I have something here I couldn’t push away.”

Hearing Xie Qing’s tone, Ji Chenjiao knew it wasn’t anything good and asked warily, “What is it?”

Xie Qing cleared his throat. “Isn’t our Municipal Bureau organizing special training for new SWAT recruits? An instructor from the Special Action Team has never come before. The higher-ups mean… well…”

Hearing this, Ji Chenjiao knew what it was.

Their annoying Ling Lie had been targeted!

Xie Qing smiled. “The creed of our Municipal Bureau is to utilize all available resources.”

Ji Chenjiao said expressionlessly, “Exploit everyone who can be exploited.”

Xie Qing: “Look at you talking like that.”

Ji Chenjiao: “Teacher Ling still has missions.”

“We’re not asking him to train the new recruits all day, just to make a gesture, go through the motions,” Xie Qing said. “Let the new recruits broaden their horizons and see how the elites of the Special Action Team train.”