When he saw the video on his phone, Jiang Xiaoyu silently cursed “beast” in his heart.
The deceased Zhou Xu had no choice but to go along with these spoiled second-generation heirs because of his waiter job. It started as just a game of daring challenges, but their demands grew more excessive, turning depraved with sexual elements.
He was a university student from a prestigious school, working part-time in his spare time just to support his family. Of course, he couldn’t agree to such demands. So the challenges turned into coercion, and the game became rape.
In the video, besides Shen Qie, there were two other men. Ji Wangan never appeared until Shen Qie spoke up: “Wangan, it’s your turn… why are you still recording?”
He snatched the phone and aimed it at Ji Wangan. In the frame, Ji Wangan’s face was deathly pale, his smile strained: “Forgot to turn it off…”
“Go on, didn’t you want to join our circle?” Shen Qie said with a laugh. “After tonight, you’ll be one of us.” The other two egged him on too, pushing Ji Wangan in front of Zhou Xu.
Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t know what Ji Wangan was thinking at the time. Just as he tremblingly reached out toward Zhou Xu, who lay lifeless like a broken rag doll, the latter suddenly convulsed violently, his limbs spasming.
“What’s wrong with him?!” Ji Wangan cried out in alarm, hurriedly trying to support him.
At the same time, Zhou Xu’s complexion changed dramatically. His originally paper-white face instantly turned purple-red, his eyes bulging with bloodshot veins, eyeballs seeming about to burst from their sockets. His throat swelled rapidly like an inflated sail. Even more terrifying, he emitted a horrifying sound, somewhere between a scream and guttural gasps.
The other two seemed panicked too, turning to ask Shen Qie what to do. At that moment, Ji Wangan lunged at Shen Qie: “Quick, call… call 120…”
Shen Qie raised the phone to dodge Ji Wangan, and the projected screen went black—that was the end of the video.
Jin Ge took a drag from his cigarette, his face showing little expression as he exhaled. “Zhou Xu was probably dead by then.” The last time he appeared on camera, he was in a car. Though the lighting was dim and unclear, the convulsions had clearly stopped by then.
Lu Wanhui, arms crossed and frowning, sat in his chair rewatching the video: “His reaction looks like asphyxiation from an allergic response.”
Jiang Xiaoyu clenched his fists, baffled at how they could remain so calm. Though he knew well the evil in human nature, he had never handled a human case before. This was the first time he’d seen a life trampled so brutally and vividly.
He turned his head away, unable to watch the video anymore. “I thought Ji Wangan was a decent guy at first…” He began to doubt his instincts.
Jin Ge snorted mockingly: “Yeah, right. Looks like Ji Wangan hadn’t even joined in the assault when the victim croaked. Lucky he recorded it—otherwise, no key evidence.”
Under the glaring lights, Jiang Xiaoyu’s face was nearly translucent with pallor. Back at the Ji family home, Ji Wangan had said he killed someone, and in fact, he had “killed” him—even if he hadn’t directly caused the death.
“Arrest him?” Jiang Xiaoyu asked.
“We definitely have to make an arrest.” Lu Wanhui pulled a cigarette from Jin Ge’s pack, lit it, and said, “Thanks for the evidence collection, Officer Jiang.” He was a bit curious how Jiang Xiaoyu got the phone, but right now, he had no intention of handing over the case he’d secured. “We’ll leave the rest to the Criminal Investigation Division.”
Jiang Xiaoyu’s expression was calm as he looked up at Jin Ge, as if waiting for his say.
Jin Ge silently exhaled smoke, eyes half-lidded, not looking at his prized disciple. “Hand it to Criminal Investigation. You head back to Ye Lian’s side.”
Jiang Xiaoyu felt no ripples hearing Lu Wanhui’s words, but Jin Ge’s sentence instantly soured his mood to the extreme.
He suddenly shot up from his chair, demanding loudly: “We’ve got the evidence—why do I have to go back?” Whether it was the case being snatched or something else, his mind buzzed. The thought of returning to the Ye Residence filled him with utter resistance.
Jin Ge, cigarette in mouth, looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected such a big reaction. That didn’t make sense—the cat cub had never cared about departmental affiliations or credit being stolen. If there was work, he’d do it; if not, even better. As long as he got his salary to feed the cats and dogs, he’d stay content here.
“The evidence isn’t sufficient yet. Go back and keep digging—see if you find anything else.”
“You just said we’re ready to arrest, and now it’s insufficient? How much more sufficient does it need to be? Do we have to see it with our own eyes? What else is there to find?”
Lu Wanhui chuckled, placating: “Hey, Officer Jiang, no need to get so worked up.” He took a leisurely drag, feeling the scene had flipped from the celebration banquet. “We’re just handing the wrap-up to Criminal Investigation. We won’t forget your contributions when the case closes.”
Jiang Xiaoyu stared at him incredulously, like he was an alien. “Do you think I’m like you? Treating honors like treasures?”
“What do you mean by that?” Lu Wanhui’s smile faded; he stood with a cold face.
“Enough!” Jin Ge kicked a table leg, walked to Jiang Xiaoyu’s side, and pressed the back of his neck. “Be good. Go back first and wait for my follow-up.”
Be good—again with “be good,” making him obey.
Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t feel angry; he just felt dazed. He left the Case Handling Office like a soulless shell and only remembered to shift back to cat form halfway up the hill to Ink Orchid Mansion.
The tail end of the plum rain season hadn’t fully passed. He crouched at the entrance to the Ye Residence yard, mind blank, letting the rain soak him.
Until an umbrella was held over him.
“Why’d you come back so late?” Ye Lian squatted down and stroked his drenched back. “Good thing Uncle left you dinner.”
“Come back earlier next time you go out to play, okay? Everyone was worried.”
“The Husky wanted into your Cat House too, but it’s too big—could only stick its head in.”
Rain pattered on the umbrella as he spoke softly, his voice gentle. Jiang Xiaoyu lifted his heavy head, and the moment their gazes met, he let out a meaningless meow.
In that eye contact, he panicked. It turned out he wasn’t frustrated about the case being taken, or disappointed in Jin Ge forcing him to compromise, or angry at Ji Wangan covering up the crime.
It was fear.
He was afraid to face Ye Lian, afraid Ye Lian would discover he was the one who got the evidence sentencing Ji Wangan, afraid Ye Lian would stop gently stroking his body.
He was a cop, yet shaken by fear of facing a suspect’s relative. He feared this fearful version of himself.
The moment Ye Lian met Jiang Xiaoyu’s eyes, his heart skipped. What had happened to make this little guy so down?
He set aside his probing thoughts and scooped the cat into his arms. “Let’s go in. Uncle Chen will get mad seeing you like this.”
Sure enough, Chen Yiqu saw the wet, filthy cat and scowled, full of vigor in his scolding: “You wild thing! Not only do you run off, but you come back this dirty! Look at the water you’re dripping—go get a towel and wipe yourself clean, I tell you!”
He nagged on and on, but seeing the cat not meowing back like usual, he stopped.
Ye Lian chimed in aptly: “Go wash up and dry off first. Don’t get sick.”
His paws sank into warm water, and Jiang Xiaoyu snapped back to reality, his body starting to shiver uncontrollably from the temperature shift.
“Ready? Time to lather up.” The man rolled up his sleeves, exposing sturdy forearms. As if doing this for the first time, his movements were unskilled as he circled the grooming brush over Jiang Xiaoyu.
“Don’t we have an automatic cat washer?” Jiang Xiaoyu meowed lowly.
Ye Lian said nothing, the atmosphere falling silent. The brush teeth combed through his fur, bringing a dull tugging sensation—not painful, but making its presence keenly felt.
“Your brother broke the law,” Jiang Xiaoyu said.
Ye Lian’s hand paused slightly but kept going, like untangling knots.
“From the video, though he didn’t directly assault, he concealed the truth and might’ve helped dump the body. Per Criminal Law Article 310, he’ll be sentenced.” Taking advantage that the man couldn’t understand cat speech, he blurted it all out.
“Because of me.” He spiraled: “You’ll blame me, right?”
Pretending not to understand, Ye Lian said nothing, just lifted him from the water. “Rinse time.” His tone was soft, eyes curving into pretty crescents.
Whether from the rain or something else, workaholic Ye Lian didn’t go to his office tonight. Instead, he carried Jiang Xiaoyu back to the bedroom.
“Still unhappy?” He stroked the black cat’s drooping ears.
The more he cared, the less Jiang Xiaoyu could let go. He buried his head in the quilt, dodging the man’s reaching fingers.
Watching the cat shrink like a turtle, Ye Lian felt a twinge of helplessness, thinking the little guy had the wrong idea about him. Not to mention he wasn’t close to the Ji family—to the contrary, with the Ye family generations in politics, he would never cover for Ji Wangan, much less blame a cop for upholding justice.
Still, he was curious about the Ji family’s reaction. At the thought, interest flickered in his eyes. He smiled: “Can’t sleep? Uncle will read to you.”
Jiang Xiaoyu kept his head buried, hearing the man open his elegant, low voice to read slowly: “…Facing the sins he committed, he fell into extreme psychological struggle and moral torment…”
He lifted his head in a daze, looking at the book in the man’s hands—Crime and Punishment.
“His heart was filled with contradictions and remorse; he couldn’t escape the guilt of his murder…”
He lifted his two front paws and pressed them against Ye Lian, listening with rapt attention.
“…Under Sonia’s guidance and driven by his own conscience, he chose to turn himself in and accept legal punishment…”
Ye Lian closed the book. His slender fingers rubbed Jiang Xiaoyu’s cheek as he muttered to himself, “The law is the minimum threshold of morality. Raskolnikov came to his senses and chose to turn himself in. I wonder how many people in reality could actually do the same?”
“Like Sonia, if I encountered something like this, I would persuade him to turn himself in.”
Jiang Xiaoyu gazed into the man’s amber eyes, meowing as if entranced: “Me too.”
