"Surprised or not?" Wang Yu teased, clearly amused by Guan Xia's stunned expression, before adding with a smile, "Director Ren made this decision based on your talent and capabilities. But to be blunt, he also has his own motives. So don’t feel pressured—just keep being yourself."
Guan Xia snapped out of her daze and instinctively began dissecting Wang Yu’s words. Before she could fully process them, Xu Nian interjected, "Of course, if anything feels inappropriate or uncomfortable for you, just say so. After all, you’re not like us—solving cases is your interest, not your profession. Director Ren specifically told us to have a proper talk with you and make sure there are no misunderstandings. If you disagree, we’ll readjust immediately."
Seeing Xu Nian’s earnest expression, Guan Xia didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fell into deep thought.
Honestly, the situation had unfolded in a way she never expected. But contrary to what Wang Yu assumed, she didn’t feel pressured—just startled. Now, she was considering the implications of Director Ren’s decision for her.
After turning it over in her mind, Guan Xia concluded it was a win-win. The branch bureau where Xu Nian’s team worked would improve their case-solving rate, while she’d have easier access to recharging her "halo" for safety. Plus, ever since working with Xu Nian’s Second Division, she’d enjoyed their dynamic. Back in Yongquan City, before Xu Nian’s team arrived, Pang Le had even remarked how much smoother things went with familiar faces around. Now, no matter which city they investigated in, even without prior connections, help would arrive quickly.
With that in mind, Guan Xia smiled and said, "Nothing’s inappropriate. We’ve gotten along well these past few months."
Seeing her relaxed demeanor, Xu Nian and Wang Yu visibly exhaled in relief.
Wang Yu even hastily wiped her hands clean before extending one toward Guan Xia. "Then, happy future collaborations."
Guan Xia shook her hand warmly. "Happy collaborations."
With the serious discussion over, the rest of the time was purely for fun.
Qi Bai, despite his eccentric personality, lived up to Wang Yu’s praise—his cooking skills were impressive. The barbecue was perfectly grilled, seasoned just right, and even the homemade side dishes were crisp and refreshing. The only unforgivable flaw? His singing was downright painful.
By the time Qi Bai launched into his fourth song, Guan Xia couldn’t take it anymore. Under the guise of politeness, she excused herself and fled to another lounge, collapsing into a chair.
Two people were already there: Wang Yu, sucking on a lollipop while gaming, and Jiang Yingyao, playing a match-3 puzzle game on his phone while listening to a video. As Guan Xia passed by, she caught a snippet: "Frequent offenders know—killing is easy; disposing of a body is the hard part."
True crime content? Instantly intrigued, Guan Xia leaned back, eyes closed but ears perked, absorbing every detail.
Only after the entire case concluded did she reopen the file Xu Nian had given her. Since she had time to kill, she might as well skim through it. Who knew? The system might trigger, and with so many officers around today, it’d be perfect timing.
At first, Guan Xia flipped through casually, pausing only at photos. But soon, one case gripped her attention: an unsolved homicide from 2013 in a village under Quiming City’s jurisdiction. The victim, found in a forest two kilometers from the village, had severe facial damage, rendering identification impossible. Despite DNA and fingerprint efforts, no matches surfaced, and extensive investigations yielded no leads on missing persons matching the victim’s profile.
What held Guan Xia’s focus was the pixelated photo of the corpse. She had no memory of it, yet an inexplicable intuition told her she’d seen this person before.
The sensation was eerily familiar. After a moment, she recalled feeling the same way when spotting suspect Wei Jianming in a crowd during their last case. Before she could dwell further, Wang Yu—fresh off a gaming session—noticed her shift in expression and leaned over. "What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
As soon as Wang Yu spoke, the system interface abruptly flashed open, just as Guan Xia anticipated.
[You’ve been questioned by an officer. Suddenly, you remember: On August 12, 2013, at 5:23 PM, while returning to the orphanage after art class, your bus passed the North Bus Terminal. There, you noticed two individuals—a man and a boy—whose dynamic seemed off. The boy repeatedly glared with hatred, his eyes flicking to the man’s bag. Sensing something amiss, you decide to report it.]
The text vanished, replaced by a brief video clip. Lasting mere seconds, it showed Guan Xia by a bus window, gaze drifting outside. In her line of sight, a middle-aged man with graying hair and deep wrinkles walked alongside a teenage boy—both outlined in bright red frames by the system.
The boy wore brand-new clothes and sneakers but was thin and sunburnt, his ordinary face twisted in resentment. He dragged his feet, visibly reluctant, and kept glancing around, especially at the man’s bag (which matched the victim’s in the photo). Guan Xia didn’t catch the "glaring hatred" the system mentioned, but the boy’s frequent stares at the bag were undeniable.
No time for snark. Guan Xia straightened, shoving the photo at Wang Yu. "I’ve seen this man. I recognize his clothes. There was a boy with him—around 15 or 16."
Wang Yu, who’d asked casually, froze at the bombshell. She took the photo, scrutinizing it. "I remember this case. It’s from Quiming City—the victim’s face was unrecognizable. Local police even tried skull reconstruction for ID, but it led nowhere. When did you see them?"
"August 12, 2013. Afternoon," Guan Xia confirmed.
"August 12…" Wang Yu frowned, rifling through memories. "If I’m right, the body was discovered by villagers on the morning of the 14th. Which means the boy you saw with the victim… might very well be the killer."
Guan Xia recalled the youthful appearance of the boy from the system's video and couldn't help but say, "A kid like this, still a minor—what kind of deep-seated hatred could drive him to brutally kill an adult?"
She didn’t doubt whether the boy was the culprit. Having cracked several cases already, the system’s hints had never been wrong. But instinctively, she began analyzing the relationship between the older man and the boy.
Father and son? It didn’t seem likely. Not only did they look nothing alike, but their interactions were also distant and awkward. Relatives, then? That was possible. But if they were relatives, whether the man brought the boy home or vice versa, there would surely be acquaintances in the area. In that case, even if the victim’s face was disfigured, missing persons matching the description wouldn’t have gone unnoticed—unless the man was a complete stranger to the locals.
Guan Xia’s mind wandered, even considering the possibility that the man was a human trafficker. But she dismissed the thought almost immediately. The boy looked about fifteen or sixteen, his lively eyes suggesting normal intelligence. And in a public setting like that, if he hadn’t gone with the man willingly, he could’ve easily cried out for help, and the man would’ve been stopped right there in the bus station.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized their relationship might be far more complicated than she’d imagined.
Wang Yu chimed in, "Actually, many juvenile offenders have much simpler, more brutal motives—like curiosity, boredom, or just plain dislike for someone. I believe this case is the same."
Guan Xia recalled some past cases involving minors. The motives were indeed often shockingly straightforward. Earlier, while eavesdropping on Jiang Yingyao’s video, she’d heard about a girl who killed a classmate out of sheer jealousy—because the victim was prettier, smarter, and more well-liked. The killer had lured her home, murdered her, and even attempted dismemberment. Of course, due to her inexperience, she was quickly caught, and the case was solved within two days.
Guan Xia quickly grabbed some blank paper and a pen, sketching rapidly as she asked Wang Yu, "This case happened near a village under a county in Qu Ming City’s jurisdiction. How do we investigate? Do we go there?"
Before Wang Yu could answer, Jiang Yingyao suddenly spoke up. "Guan Xia, if you remember the victim and suspect’s appearances, you could try identifying them first. Once we confirm their identities, we’ll have a direction for the investigation. Then we can contact local police to reopen the cold case."
So it was similar to the procedure they’d followed when Sister Ji was still around. Guan Xia nodded. "I remember both their faces, but the case is eleven years old. Progress might not be as quick as before."
While Guan Xia worked on the sketches, Wang Yu swiftly notified the others about the new case. By the time she finished the first drawing, everyone—including Qi Bai, who’d been engrossed in singing—had gathered in the break room, sitting around her.
She handed over the completed sketch and started on the next one. The others weren’t idle either—some familiarized themselves with the case details, while others reached out to colleagues. Though they were still at the team-building retreat, the investigation had already begun.
Qi Bai, however, was visibly agitated. When he saw the crime scene location, he exclaimed bitterly, "Not Yongquan City again? Seriously, my leg might be lame, but my eyes and brain work just fine. Can’t I really go with you guys? At the very least, I could review surveillance footage—like in the 611 case. I couldn’t go out in the field, but I helped Guan Xia and the others with the footage in the office. I’m useful!"
He looked at Guan Xia hopefully, but she was too focused on her sketch to notice.
Wang Yu took a moment to pat Qi Bai’s shoulder sympathetically. "This case is eleven years old. Generally, traffic police and municipal surveillance footage is only kept for ten years. This one just missed the cutoff. I doubt there’ll be much footage left for us to review."
Qi Bai’s expression grew even more dejected.
Xu Nian and Pang Le were absorbed in the case details, but Jiang Yingyao, seeing how miserable Qi Bai looked, offered some consolation. "If you’re really bored, you could help out the Third Division. They’re short-handed on an active case. I’m sure they’d welcome you."
Qi Bai pursed his lips and said nothing. He wasn’t bored—he just wanted to work on cases with the team, especially the ones Guan Xia uncovered. Each one was more thrilling than the last.
