The New Eridu night draped itself over the city like black velvet, stars piercing through the urban glow like scattered diamonds against the heavens.
"Thanks for walking me back. Next time, dinner's on me."
They stood before a nondescript apartment building several blocks from the Cunning Hares headquarters. Ye Qingfeng had selected it at random when they reached the general area, fabricating it as his residence.
The truth was, he remained uncertain about local firearm regulations, and while he doubted Nicole's operation was illegal, caution seemed prudent.
"No trouble at all—I live just one street over." Zhu Yan seemed genuinely pleased by their proximity. Their walk had been filled with easy conversation, and she'd already begun considering him a potential friend. "I didn't realize we were neighbors."
"You should head back—early shift tomorrow," he reminded her. "I'll take you out properly this weekend."
What had begun as a calculated move to increase favorability had unexpectedly evolved into something more genuine over their hours together.
"Looking forward to it," she agreed, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she smiled. "Message me when you're free."
Just as she turned to leave, an inexplicable urgency gripped him. "Zhu Yan—"
She paused, tilting her head curiously. "Yes?"
He took a steadying breath, meeting her gaze directly. "The family heirloom was a fake. I lied to you."
"I know."
Her expression remained unchanged, her calm acceptance more disconcerting than anger would have been.
The truth was, suspicion had already taken root. But between the test report confirming ordinary glass composition and her growing fondness for him, she'd chosen willful ignorance.
When the evidence first landed in her hands—the official analysis declaring the fragments common glass—fury had consumed her. She'd stormed toward the station entrance, determined to confront him.
Then she saw him—standing alone in the biting wind, his silhouette radiating such profound loneliness that her anger dissipated like mist. She watched him for what felt like minutes, emotions warring within her, before finally approaching.
"Would you like to explain?" she asked gently.
He stared, having prepared for countless reactions but not this quiet understanding. What kind of person was she? In his previous life, he'd never encountered anyone like this.
For a long moment, he simply watched the subtle curve of her cheekbone in the moonlight. She waited patiently, offering space for his truth.
So he told her—selectively. He spoke of hardship and orphanhood, carefully omitting his transmigration and imprisonment. Those secrets carried too much risk; if she investigated and found no records of his existence, what then? Another confession of deception?
The past should remain buried. How could one embrace the present while chained to ghosts?
When he finished, Zhu Yan released a soft sigh, her eyes clouded with a familiar helplessness. As an officer, she'd encountered countless stories like his—casualties of the Zero Hollow catastrophe that left children to fend for themselves.
Her capacity for help always felt insufficient against the tide of suffering.
"Would you like to come over on Saturday?" she offered. "As friends, for now."
She stepped closer and gently ruffled his hair.
"Someone like me—" he began, voice cracking with self-deprecation.
She pressed a finger to his lips, stopping the familiar refrain. "Will you come?"
He stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides, wrestling with emotions he couldn't name.
"Okay," he finally whispered, the word barely audible.
"Good." She patted his head twice, the gesture oddly comforting. "See you Saturday, then."
With a final smile, she turned and disappeared down the street, her faint humming lingering in the night air.
---
Earlier that evening, not long after leaving the station, they'd exchanged contact information. When Zhu Yan learned he was only nineteen, her surprise was evident.
Her phone interrupted them moments later. Recognizing the caller, her posture relaxed as she gestured for silence before answering.
They continued walking, Ye Qingfeng maintaining a respectful distance to grant privacy.
"Finished work, Mom... Yes, already off duty... Work's been manageable lately..."
Her mother's voice filtered through, a familiar litany of concerns about meals and sleep schedules. Zhu Yan listened with practiced patience.
"Your father bought a pheasant. Come home Saturday for soup."
"Saturday I... made plans with a friend," she replied, glancing sideways at Ye Qingfeng before lowering her voice. "I'll visit on the weekend."
She moved to end the call, distracted enough to miss the uneven pavement. Her foot caught on a protruding stone.
The world tilted.
Strong arms intercepted her fall, pulling her against a firm chest. She looked up into Ye Qingfeng's concerned eyes, her heart hammering against her ribs. For reasons she couldn't explain, her combat-trained instincts abandoned her, leaving her pliant in his embrace.
He'd acted on pure instinct, tightening his hold on her surprisingly soft form. The sensation was alien—the most contact he'd ever had with a woman was holding hands in the orphanage.
His gaze inadvertently dropped, catching a glimpse of pale skin that sent heat rushing to his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, but darkness only heightened his other senses.
She felt impossibly delicate in his arms, her warmth seeping through their clothes, her scent enveloping him. His mind emptied of everything except her proximity.
[Ding! Zhu Yan's favorability +15%. Current: 50%]
[Two lottery draws obtained.]
They remained frozen for ten heartbeats before he jerked away. "Sorry—you were falling—"
"It's fine," she managed, her voice unsteady. "Thank you."
An awkward silence descended. Both faces burned with lingering heat, eyes carefully avoiding each other.
It was then he noticed her phone lying screen-down on the pavement. He retrieved it, grateful it hadn't been crushed.
"You dropped this."
She accepted it with relief, checking the screen—and froze.
"Mom...?" she whispered, lifting the device with trembling hands.
The line had remained open.
After a weighted pause, her mother's voice returned, now tinged with knowing amusement. "You're grown, Zhu Yan. No need for explanations. If you need money, just ask—I found your father's hidden stash. Bring him home sometime, let us meet him."
"We only just met today," Zhu Yan protested, shooting Ye Qingfeng a flustered glance. "It's not like that."
"Your father and I married weeks after we met. Good men don't stay available long, dear."
"Mom! It's not—I have to go!" She ended the call abruptly, embarrassment burning her cheeks.
Taking deep breaths, she tried to compose herself. Ye Qingfeng had undoubtedly pieced together enough to understand. How could she face him now?
Why did her mother always make assumptions? As if she couldn't attract suitors easily enough!
Nearby, Ye Qingfeng had also regained his composure. He understood the gist of what had transpired, though he didn't dwell on it. To him, Zhu Yan existed in a different realm—the kind of person parents praised as the "ideal child."
She was virtue embodied—a righteous officer blossoming in sunlight, who had chosen to believe in an ordinary man.
While he remained shadow-bound—an ex-con leveraging her kindness through deception.
Why entertain impossible fantasies?
"Zhu Yan!" he called out, breaking her reverie.
She blinked, returning to the present. "Yes?"
"We're here. You can head back now."
The confession stuck in his throat. He was a fraud, exploiting her compassion. What right did he have to hope?
"Nonsense! What if something happens?" she insisted, closing the distance to grip his wrist. "It's this way, right?"
The contact startled him. "Yeah..."
"Then let's go." She tugged him forward, her determination leaving no room for argument.
As she led him toward the fabricated destination, Ye Qingfeng wrestled with his conscience. This was his final chance for honesty.
Once she left, the opportunity would vanish forever.
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