“Lin Xian, I’m sorry for your loss.”
The day after returning from Hangzhou to Donghai, Zhou Duan Yun’s sleek Rolls-Royce Phantom rolled up in front of MX Company. He walked into Lin Xian’s office and settled onto the sofa, his gaze locked on Lin Xian.
“I know you’re hurting, but… these things happen. I’m really shaken up by Tang Xin’s passing too.”
Duan Yun sighed heavily, his hands clasped together.
“I didn’t want to tell you earlier because I thought it might upset you more… but Tang Xin had a present for you that night. I helped her choose it and left it in my car. That’s why she was outside when the accident occurred.”
Taking a deep breath, Duan Yun continued, “Honestly, if anyone is to blame, it’s me.”
Lin Xian sat silently at his desk, resting his cheek on his left hand while absentmindedly spinning a pen with his right. He remained quiet.
Meanwhile, Gao Yang and Tang Xin’s brother were at the Donghai Public Security Bureau, delving deeper into her death.
To them, Tang Xin’s death suggested a broader conspiracy, as if several plots were converging on her. Yet, in the grand scheme, Tang Xin was just one of many victims.
In this city alone, about 500 car accidents occur daily, resulting in four deaths and 30 injuries. That’s just one city. Globally, around 3,200 people die from car accidents each day.
Tang Xin was merely one of them.
Her death seemed minor compared to the enigmatic demise of Professor Xu Yun. Without the parallels to Xu Yun’s case, Tang Xin’s death might have gone unnoticed in Donghai.
No one ponders about the other 3,199 people who die in car accidents each day, their whereabouts, or their moments.
Gao Yang and Tang Xin’s brother found out from the police that the suspect vehicle was still at large, and there was insufficient evidence to proceed. They were advised to wait for the final police report.
Lin Xian and Zhou Duan Yun had also been interviewed by the police, and they had been forthright.
It seemed to be a straightforward case of a girl getting hit by a car while retrieving a gift, resulting in a tragic accident…
But that was only because of the prior unresolved case of Professor Xu Yun.
Without Xu Yun’s mystery, Tang Xin’s case might have easily been dismissed.
But could there be a link between Tang Xin’s and Xu Yun’s cases?
The police were unsure because, again, there was no concrete evidence.
Investigations depend on evidence. Without it, it’s impossible to determine the nature of a case unless someone confesses, making their confession the evidence.
Xu Yun was struck by a black Audi at 00:42:02. A taxi fled the scene.
Tang Xin was hit by a taxi at 00:42:41, with no other vehicles fleeing.
One might suggest there’s a pattern, a similar operation.
But that’s speculative, and the police aren’t convinced by conjecture alone.
So, it boils down to evidence.
These days, Lin Xian often stands at the curb at 00:42, testing his safety.
But nothing out of the ordinary happens. No surprises.
If Yellow Finch hadn’t alerted him that the “cat and mouse game” had begun, he wouldn’t have suspected he was a target. ƒreewebɳovel.com
He’s not a scientist; he doesn’t study hibernation, so why would he be a target?
Yet, Lin Xian trusts Yellow Finch’s warning. Clearly, he’s being observed by these assassins, but they aren’t ready to strike just yet. Perhaps for the same reason—lack of evidence.
Lin Xian stopped spinning the pen and faced Zhou Duan Yun.
Maybe his theory was right—they can’t find evidence linking him to Xu Yun and Tang Xin’s deaths, and they can’t prove his involvement with Xu Yun!
In this tug-of-war… the first to gather evidence and expose the other will lose this lethal game!
That was the crux of the cat and mouse game Yellow Finch referred to.
Lin initially thought it was merely about dodging.
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But now he realizes it’s more complex!
The roles of predator and prey are not fixed. It’s a race against time and each other. Although he’s currently on the defensive…
Lin Xian glanced at the line of Rhine Cats on his desk.
If the mouse is clever enough, it might just reverse the roles and chase the cat!
Seeing Lin Xian deep in thought, Duan Yun stood up, adjusting his suit.
“Lin Xian, Tang Xin’s gift is still in my car. Do you want it? If so, I’ll have my driver bring it up…”
“No,” Lin Xian shook his head. “Get rid of it.”
At this moment, Lin Xian couldn’t trust Zhou Duan Yun. Who knew if the so-called gift was genuine?
And even if it was real, what significance would it hold now?
Tang Xin was dead, likely murdered, and Lin Xian suspected his former classmate might be involved.
What good is a gift stained with blood?
“Huh?” Duan Yun looked puzzled. “Are you sure?”
“I watched Tang Xin die. How could I accept her last gift?” Lin Xian leaned back, chuckling softly as he scrutinized Duan Yun.
“One day, when I visit Tang Xin’s grave, I’ll bring her a true gift.”
“You might not know, Lin Xian,” Duan Yun shook his head, a wry smile on his face, “but Hangzhou now promotes civilized funerals. You can’t burn paper money anymore.”
“Really,” Lin Xian responded flatly. “Then I’ll burn something else.”
Duan Yun was left speechless.
Was the point really about what was burned?
The point was the act of burning something!
After a while, Duan Yun left.
Lin Xian watched him leave the parking lot through the blinds.
This guy…
What was he truly after?
Everyone, including Lin Xian himself, used to think of him as successful. But successful in what?
Reviewing their shared past, he realized he knew very little about Duan Yun.
Whether it was his reserved, withdrawn days in high school or his current success, Lin Xian knew almost nothing concrete about him.
He didn’t believe in inherent evil.
If Zhou Duan Yun had truly gone from a poor kid to a potential murderer, something must have triggered that change, and that trigger could be the key to everything!
Ding-dong.
A few minutes after Zhou’s departure, Lin Xian’s phone buzzed with a message from WeChat.
It was from Chu An Qing—
“Senior Lin Xian, are you free for lunch tomorrow? My dad wants to invite you over. He said he wants to share a drink with you. My mom’s preparing a feast!”
Chu Shan He inviting him over?
That was unexpected.
In a world where dining out is common, home invitations usually mean one of two things:
Either it’s too costly to eat out, or the relationship is particularly close and personal.
Clearly, Chu Shan He wasn’t trying to save money.
After thinking for a moment, Lin Xian replied:
“Sure, I’m free tomorrow.”
Chu Shan He’s influence in Donghai City was unmatched.
He even knew about the secret agents the local police hired.
Since Chu Shan He felt indebted and wanted to thank him, Lin Xian saw no reason to decline. Accepting might provide valuable insights later on.
Perhaps, at some point, Chu Shan He could offer Lin Xian exceptional help in navigating Donghai’s complexities.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
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