Although Guan Xia had only met Xu Nian a few times, in her impression, he seemed indifferent to everything except cases, always wearing an expression of detachment. So when he suddenly revealed such an animated look, she was not only surprised but also slightly embarrassed, as if she had strayed beyond the bounds of normalcy to warrant such astonishment.
Adjusting her posture, Guan Xia leaned comfortably against the back of her chair and handed over another sketch. "This is the person. When Lu Tingfeng asked me, I remembered—he had been following the girl at a distance of about ten meters. At one point, a careless boy bumped into him, and he reacted with such fury, shoving the boy aside before hurrying forward a few steps. He must have lost track of the girl because his expression turned terrifying. That’s why it stuck in my mind."
She tried to downplay her unnaturally sharp memory, but judging by Xu Nian’s lingering surprise, her explanation fell flat.
Taking the second sketch, Xu Nian studied it, then looked back at her before finally uttering, "This memory of yours… Have you ever had it checked at a hospital?"
The question caught her off guard, and it took a moment for Guan Xia to grasp his meaning.
Shaking her head quickly, she clarified, "I’ve never been tested, but I know for sure it’s not hyperthymesia. For instance, if you asked me what dishes we ordered at a hotpot dinner last night, I probably couldn’t list them all."
Xu Nian regarded her thoughtfully before concluding, "So this frightening memory of yours is tied to specific scenarios or certain people."
Guan Xia nodded. That was indeed her theory about how her system passively recorded certain scenes.
Though his expression had normalized, his eyes remained unusually bright as he said, "This talent of yours… truly enviable. Have you ever considered becoming a police officer?"
A police officer? Guan Xia hesitated, unsure how to answer.
Before her transmigration, she had entertained the idea—after all, who hadn’t watched crime dramas as a child? But those were just fleeting whims, like wanting to be a soldier, a pilot, or a lawyer after binge-watching other shows. As she grew older and followed the conventional path of schooling, those dreams faded, leaving her to trudge through workday routines. The only thing she’d stuck with was drawing—something she had a knack for and that helped pass the time.
After transmigrating, her dire circumstances had stripped her of any luxury to dream. She’d clung to whatever skills gave her an edge, fighting tooth and nail to change her situation. It wasn’t until her last comic turned a profit that she finally caught her breath, settling into the stable, comfortable life she had now. That was also why, despite activating the golden finger every transmigrator coveted, she’d delayed making any drastic changes.
She’d spent twenty-two years racing toward the goals she’d set for herself. Now that she’d finally reached them and could relax, the thought of embarking on another uncertain journey felt exhausting.
But the low-presence halo hovering over her reminded her it was time to move forward again.
After a long pause lost in thought, Guan Xia finally answered, "No, I never considered it. You probably already know this, but I was an orphan. Dreams were too distant for me as a child—I just wanted a better life. But I’ve achieved that now. I even live across from you, so I think it’s obvious I’m doing well."
Xu Nian smiled sincerely, nodding in agreement. "You are doing well. The life you wanted as a child is yours now."
Guan Xia returned the smile, noticing how he suddenly seemed less aloof, more human.
Still, they weren’t close, and she didn’t want to dwell on the topic. Steering the conversation elsewhere, she asked hesitantly, "This girl… I found some information about the case online, but very little. Can you tell me how she died?"
"Murdered," Xu Nian answered without hesitation. "Death by asphyxiation. But due to confidentiality protocols, I can’t share more details. I’m sorry."
Guan Xia had expected as much and wasn’t disappointed, though she did wonder how collaboration with the police would work.
Joining the force outright was out of the question—she hadn’t forgotten the full name of her system: the Informant System. By definition, it required her to operate outside official channels, providing tips as a civilian. But she recalled from crime dramas that informants often received compensation and maintained exclusive contact with a single officer, their identity kept secret from others. Would she have to do the same?
The thought lasted only a second before she dismissed it. Her system was too passive—it only triggered when questioned by police. Relying solely on Xu Nian wasn’t feasible.
Xu Nian was exceptional, having risen to the rank of squad leader at a young age. But his jurisdiction was limited to Pingjiang District, and Guan Xia had only moved there after college. Even with her increased outings over the past two or three years, the odds of encountering multiple criminals were slim. Without a steady stream of cases, she couldn’t sustainably recharge her low-presence halo. Unless she figured out all its rules, she’d need to keep aiding investigations indefinitely—something Pingjiang District alone couldn’t support.
More importantly, she couldn’t stay confined to Yongquan City forever. She’d want to travel, unwind. Would she have to replicate what she’d done in Quchun City, asking Xu Nian to connect her with local police and endlessly expanding her contacts? That seemed cumbersome and unsettling.
After much deliberation, a name surfaced in her mind: Lu Tingfeng. In some ways, he fit her criteria. But she couldn’t base her decision solely on Xu Nian’s word—she’d need Pang Le to investigate before making contact.
Having roughly mapped out her plan to recharge the halo, Guan Xia refocused on Xu Nian and shook her head. "It’s fine, I understand."
Glancing at the time and noticing it was nearly midnight, she suggested, "Shall we call it a day and head home to sleep?"
Xu Nian pressed his lips together, speaking just as she made to rise. "I can’t disclose details about this case now, but I can request authorization from my superiors. I’ve thought it over—you’ve repeatedly provided crucial leads that helped us solve cases. In theory, we’re comrades-in-arms. Your unique gift means we’ll continue working together, so it’s only right you’re kept informed. I’ll submit the request tomorrow and get back to you as soon as possible."
Guan Xia hadn’t expected this. After a stunned pause, she smiled.
Her previous efforts in providing multiple clues hadn't gone to waste. Though she had activated the system without taking much initiative, it wasn’t a complete waste of time—at the very least, she had gained the initial trust of the police, laying the groundwork for her future choices.
Ah, here it is! While proofreading, I realized how cruel that cliffhanger was, so I quickly wrote the follow-up. Love to all my dear readers—mwah!
