Four years ago, Jaco entered the country. He was now twenty-five years old and still held citizenship of Country Y. After arriving in Xiarong City, he began working as a livestreamer. At first, he worked alone, but two years later, he joined his current company. This year, thanks to his continuous coverage of trending events—and his status as a foreigner—his popularity soared.

Jaco had often said that he was deeply fond of the culture here. He had even hired a teacher to self-study the language while still in Country Y. The name he gave himself, Xu Yage, was of his own choosing: “Yage” sounded like “Jaco,” and “Xu” was his favorite surname.

“Surname Xu… his favorite surname.” Images of his past encounters with Jaco flashed in Ji Chenjiao’s mind. If he only heard his voice, he’d never suspect Jaco was a foreigner. But seeing his face—pale skin, gray-blue eyes, high nose bridge, deep eye sockets, and shoulder-length brown hair—his features screamed Country Y. Soccer was popular in Country Y, and Jaco dressed much like their football stars.

“Bro, doesn’t Jaco look like a mixed-race guy? But when I looked into his family, I found that both his parents are pure Country Y nationals—not a trace of our bloodline,” Shen Qi continued. “I thought it was weird, so I asked some friends over in Country Y to check. Guess what they found?”

Ji Chenjiao was very focused on the surname “Xu,” and already had a faint suspicion. “He was adopted?”

“Damn, bro! You really know everything!” Shen Qi exclaimed excitedly. “Jaco’s adoptive parents were infertile. Twenty years ago, they adopted Jaco from Qianxing Welfare Home in Liyun City. No wonder his Mandarin is so good.”

The more Ji Chenjiao heard, the more wrong things felt. “You’re sure they adopted Jaco from Liyun City’s welfare home?”

“Positive. There’s a record of the adoption.”

“Was one of Jaco’s biological parents from Country Y? Or some other foreign country?”

Shen Qi froze. “Shouldn’t be… wait, crap!” He suddenly realized, “Why the hell does Jaco look like he’s mixed-race then?”

After hanging up, Ji Chenjiao fell into deep thought.

Jaco had been adopted twenty years ago from a welfare home in Liyun City by a couple from Country Y. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have any foreign blood—but his appearance said otherwise. Either makeup or plastic surgery was involved. His passport photo looked the same, except his skin wasn’t as pale. So was surgery more likely? Did he have cosmetic procedures, then apply tons of foundation?

Xu Yage. Xu Jiajia. Their ages were close. Both names sounded similar, especially the “Jia” and “Ya” syllables that matched Jaco’s name.

Jaco had been unusually obsessed with the Fengyi Villa case. From the very beginning, when police first arrived at Fengyi Villa, he was providing information. Facing the public, he repeatedly offered fresh perspectives, and ever since arriving in Tongjia County, he’d been guiding attention towards Xu Yinyue. Had the Serious Crimes Unit been any slower, they too would have followed his video trail and sent forces to Tongjia County.

He wasn’t just guiding public opinion—he was subtly manipulating the police investigation.

Could he actually be that missing child?

Previously, Ji Chenjiao had suspected Jaco was involved in the Fengyi Villa case somehow—perhaps knowing something, deliberately exchanging what he knew for an advantage over the police. His bold behavior around the police made him seem unlike a suspect, and he had no motive to kill Kang Wanbin.

But if he was Xu Jiajia—then his motive would make perfect sense.

According to Mrs. Xue’s testimony, when Kang Wanbin assaulted Xu Yinyue, Xu Jiajia was a little over three years old—old enough to remember. Mrs. Xue claimed she alone knew about this—but perhaps there was one other: Xu Jiajia. That day, when Xu Yinyue invited Mrs. Xue over and closed the bedroom door, Xu Jiajia might not have been asleep. In a crowded apartment block with thin walls and two women arguing emotionally, he might have heard everything.

The clues spun like gears in Ji Chenjiao’s mind, faster and faster—one year later, Xu Yinyue and Xu Jiajia encountered disaster. They were harmed by someone—not Kang Wanbin, who had already gone abroad. Xu Yinyue died, but Xu Jiajia escaped somehow and ended up in Liyun City’s welfare home, eventually adopted by that foreign couple.

He never forgot his mother’s hatred. When he turned twenty-one, he returned to this country and began his revenge. To cover his tracks and better fit into the streaming world, he’d had plastic surgery abroad.

Ji Chenjiao took a deep breath, reviewing this chain of logic, searching for errors or gaps.

Xu Yinyue hadn’t disappeared—she was dead. Xu Jiajia must have known who killed her. That was the true target of his revenge. As for Kang Wanbin—he too had hurt Xu Yinyue, so he also deserved to die.

Was the whole Fengyi Villa case a giant smokescreen set off by Xu Jiajia? His real target—the person the police hadn’t discovered yet—was the one who killed Xu Yinyue? And Kang Wanbin’s death merely triggered the public uproar, quietly pulling Xu Yinyue’s story into the spotlight?

Thinking of Jaco’s ever-cunning smile, Ji Chenjiao felt a chill.

Not long ago, Ling Lie had said: “He’s coming for you.”

Back then, Kang Wanbin had tracked down Xu Yinyue. But maybe it was the other way around—Xu Yinyue had tracked down Ji Nocheng. This whirlpool was sucking him in.

And now, with Jaco’s identity almost uncovered, this “everything falling into place” feeling was even stronger. Jaco wanted him to trace the clues straight to Ji Nocheng!

Jaco’s real target of revenge was Ji Nocheng—and he was guiding Ji Nocheng’s adopted son to investigate Ji Nocheng!

And why had Xu Jiajia ended up at Liyun City’s welfare home?

Because Ji Nocheng and Zhou Yun lived in Liyun City—had they gone to Xiarong City to adopt a child?

The once warm and harmonious image of family—the elegant, kind adoptive parents—shattered like crumbling walls after an earthquake, revealing filth and rot behind them.

Ji Chenjiao shook his head, trying to calm down. These were just deductions. The truth might not be like this. He gathered his things and left the station, heading straight for Jaco.

More and more media were gathering in Tongjia County. Jaco’s team was staying at a hotel in the town center. Ji Chenjiao saw Jaco’s assistant in the lobby, looking anxious, making call after call.

“I can’t reach him! We’re supposed to shoot soon—he’s never done this before!”

Ji Chenjiao’s face tightened. “Jaco is missing?”

The assistant shrank back, far less composed than Jaco. “Yeah. We discussed today’s plan last night. But when I woke up—he was gone. I thought he’d just gone hunting for material—he does that a lot. But it’s been hours, no word, and his phone’s off. He didn’t get hurt by the Kang family, did he?”

Ji Chenjiao rushed upstairs. The assistant followed. Jaco’s room was untouched—the bed still made from yesterday’s housekeeping, an empty cup noodle bowl on the desk. His video equipment, phone, and luggage full of on-camera clothes and cosmetics were all there.

Ji Chenjiao checked the makeup bag—two bottles of white foundation.

“All his stuff’s here. Where did he go?” The assistant was on the verge of tears.

Ji Chenjiao called up the security footage. At first, there was no sign of Jaco leaving. He couldn’t have jumped from the window—no footprints on the sill, and it was the fourth floor—far too high.

Looking again, they finally spotted it: at 11:20 PM, a man in black sportswear and a baseball cap left the hotel. His short-cropped hair was nothing like Jaco’s long locks; his exposed chin was clearly yellow-skinned. At that hour, many reporters were coming and going—no one noticed this person slipping away.

Ji Chenjiao immediately called Liang Wenxian, ordering a county-wide search. Jaco probably hadn’t left Xiarong City. His mission to stir public attention towards Xu Yinyue was complete—but his goal of drawing police attention to Ji Nocheng wasn’t. He’d stay hidden until he saw the “trial” arrive.

The suspect spotlight now shifted to a seemingly innocent livestreamer. Without knowing Ji Chenjiao’s complex connection to Ji Nocheng, others wouldn’t understand this motive. But Liang Wenxian asked no questions and obeyed.

Ji Chenjiao tried to call Ji Nocheng—his phone was off. He told Shen Qi to start tracking the online activity of Ji Nocheng, Zhou Yun, and Jaco.

After making these arrangements, he closed his eyes—his forehead was drenched with cold sweat.

Just as he reached for a tissue, a makeup remover wipe appeared in front of him.

Ling Lie lifted his hand. “If you don’t want paper dust ruining your good looks, use this.”

Ji Chenjiao took it and pressed it to his forehead. At that moment, his insides churned.

He was the head of Major Crimes—he had to stay calm in every situation, responsible for his team’s actions. In a short time, he’d pieced together a possible truth—one that made his once-admired adoptive parents anything but kind, their adoption of him perhaps not out of goodwill but darker reasons.

But he couldn’t dwell on this now. The case wasn’t solved. His team needed him. He knew Jaco was forcing him to confront his beloved foster parents—arrest them with his own hands—but he couldn’t stop.

He had to find the brutal, inhuman truth.

Only when Ling Lie appeared did his shoulders finally ease. Before this strange man, he wasn’t just the team leader—he could show weakness. He could let Ling Lie see his sweaty, exhausted self—without shame.

Burying his face in the wipe, breathing heavily, he felt hands on his shoulders—patting gently.

He looked up into Ling Lie’s clear, unreadable eyes.

“Our dear Captain Ji has suffered so much,” Ling Lie said softly, like coaxing a child. “Want some candy?”

Ji Chenjiao thought he’d get mad—but he couldn’t. Ling Lie’s eyes were candy. Each gentle pat melted into his bloodstream.

No one had ever spoken to him like this. No one had ever soothed him—neither as a child nor as an adult. He’d always been like a tree, growing alone just outside the forest. Close enough to see, to protect—but always apart, separated by birth.

But Ling Lie was different. Not a tree, but the wind through the woods, a rabbit darting by, a dandelion resting nearby.

Only such an outsider could truly draw near, could truly lean on him.

Ling Lie pulled over a chair and sat beside him, chin resting in his palm, quietly watching.

Ji Chenjiao crushed the wipe in his hand and watched him too.

For that moment, all was quiet. The boiling, muddy thoughts stilled—like wind calming the storm. He knew he should return to work. But just for this rare moment—he let himself rest. Just a little longer.

“Captain Ji, you’ve assigned tasks to everyone else. What about me?” Ling Lie asked softly, appearing obedient.

Ji Chenjiao knew this was just a facade. Like a cat—no matter how docile or innocent it seemed on the outside—its soul remained proud and untamed within.

But Ling Lie’s reminder struck him. Right now, he couldn’t reach his adoptive parents—they were somewhere in the western highlands. Judging from their past words and behavior, they might have already been tipped off… received some hint… some warning? The Major Crimes Unit had to find them as soon as possible.

He himself should go, but with Jaco missing and so many matters demanding his attention, he could only send someone else. But who? Liang Wenxian? Xi Wan?

Xi Wan was capable, meticulous, and more than up to the task. But Ji Chenjiao didn’t want to explain the complicated truth to him.

“I want you to make a trip to the west. Shen Qi will soon send you the approximate location. Find Ji Nocheng and Zhou Yun, and bring them back.” Ji Chenjiao paused, then corrected himself: “No—first confirm their whereabouts. We’ll decide the next step after that.”

Ling Lie stood up, placing both hands on Ji Chenjiao’s shoulders, looking down at him while toying with the collar of his uniform shirt. “Captain Ji, this is such an important task. You really trust me that much?”

Ji Chenjiao frowned slightly. “Don’t you have that… certificate or whatever? If you run, or fail the mission, Captain Xie will answer for you.”

He spoke Xie’s name with heavy emphasis, as if venting some kind of discontent. But what exactly that emotion was—even Ji Chenjiao himself wasn’t sure. After Ling Lie accepted the order and left, Ji Chenjiao sat quietly in thought, realizing that he might have been unreasonable… like a possessive child who refuses to let anyone else even touch a single strand of his toy’s hair.

Jaco had vanished as if evaporated overnight—his phone, social media accounts, everything inactive; no spending records, no public transport records. Searches had yielded nothing; Shen Qi’s digital trace investigation had come up empty for now.

However, Shen Qi did find that Ji Nocheng and his wife were currently in Xiyun County, a well-known destination on the plateau.

Ji Chenjiao sent Xi Wan to Liyun City to gather information from the orphanage. The orphanage was reputable—every child who had stayed there had a complete file. Over twenty years had passed; A-Xia, then a new worker, was now nearing retirement. She led Xi Wan to the archives, flipping through thick, dusty books heavy with the weight of time.

Many children had been adopted by suitable families over the years, but foreign adoptions had been rare. That’s why she still remembered the little boy taken by a couple from Country Y.

“Here—him, Binbin.”

In the old photograph, a short, skinny boy stared warily into the camera. It was the first photo taken of him at the orphanage. Most children smiled in these photos.

But not Binbin. His eyes burned with age-inappropriate hostility.

“Do you remember how he came here?” Xi Wan asked.

A-Xia flipped further, pointing to a column marked “Notes.” “Here—this Mr. Xu.”

“Xu?” Xi Wan noticed the ‘Guardian’ column was empty, but under ‘Notes’ was written: “Mr. Xu.”

“I remember now,” A-Xia said. “This Mr. Xu brought Binbin here, said he’d found the boy wandering by the roadside during a business trip—mute and simple-minded, didn’t know who his parents were—so he brought him to us. We have a rule that anyone who brings in a child must register, but he refused—just said his surname was Xu. So I wrote ‘Mr. Xu’ in the notes. This was our internal record; we wouldn’t normally show it to outsiders if you police weren’t investigating today.”

“Did he ever come back to visit the boy?” Xi Wan asked.

“I don’t think so. We filed a report with the local station about Binbin, but you know—back then there was no DNA technology, and we couldn’t find his family.” A-Xia paused, then pulled out another book. “Oh, right—this Mr. Xu asked me once whether the boy might be adopted abroad. I told him it was rare, but not impossible. He said the child had a strange temperament and might have a better life overseas.”

“We all thought the same. Binbin was odd—maybe mentally ill—but our orphanage couldn’t treat that. Some families came to see him but were scared off; everyone wants a cheerful, healthy child, right? Then that Country Y couple came. The moment they saw Binbin, they wanted him. Our director warned them that he might have mental problems, but they said they wanted a child just like him.”

So after completing a series of complicated procedures, Binbin left for Country Y with his adoptive parents. The orphanage heard no more of him.

Xi Wan photographed the documents and recorded the conversation, sending everything to Ji Chenjiao.

The boy in the photo—Binbin—was clearly the same person as the Xu Jiajia in the Tongjia County police files.

Twenty-one winters ago, Xu Yinyue and Xu Jiajia had vanished. Three months later, Xu Jiajia was delivered to Liyun Orphanage by a man who claimed to be surnamed Xu, renamed Binbin. Half a year later, Binbin was adopted abroad and renamed Jaco. He had no foreign blood, yet he altered his appearance to look mixed-race. Four years ago, Jaco returned to the country to plot his revenge.

Xu Yinyue had no relatives. The so-called Mr. Xu might never have been surnamed Xu at all—possibly the very person Jaco ultimately sought to destroy.

Ji Chenjiao saw Ji Nocheng’s face rise in his mind.

At that moment, Ling Lie squinted into the fierce, gale-force winds of the highlands.