Chapter 125 Confession

Chapter 125: Confession

Qu Peiyun's Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. "I'm sure."

Lu Yingzhuo asked, "Did you check the time yourself, or did someone tell you?"

Qu Peiyun: "I... checked it myself."

Lu Yingzhuo let out an "Oh," glanced at the documents on the table, then continued, "Did you go straight to the pond after putting Jing Jing to bed?"

Qu Peiyun: "Y-yeah."

Lu Yingzhuo: "No stops along the way?"

Qu Peiyun thought carefully. "After putting Jing Jing to bed... I went back to my room, grabbed my fishing gear, and headed straight to the pond."

Lu Yingzhuo: "Are you sure? Didn’t do anything else?"

Qu Peiyun, unsure what he was getting at, hesitated. "I... don't recall."

Lu Yingzhuo raised an eyebrow. "Don’t recall? You can't remember your own actions?"

Qu Peiyun quickly explained, "I’ve been so distraught over the accident with Jing Jing that my head's all scrambled right now."

Scrambling to remember, he finally answered firmly, "No, I just took the fishing rod and left. Didn’t do anything else in between."

Lu Yingzhuo smiled.

Right.

He kept his eyes locked on Qu Peiyun, tapping his pen absently, remaining silent for a long while.

Qu Peiyun held his stare, growing more nervous by the second, and finally stammered out, "Officer..."

But Lu Yingzhuo cut in, asking again, "Did anyone get close to you during the time you were fishing?"

Qu Peiyun paused. "Close...?"

Lu Yingzhuo: "Meaning, could anyone have touched your stuff?"

Qu Peiyun hesitated before shaking his head. "No."

"And you never left the pond during that time?"

Qu Peiyun still answered, "No."

At this, Lu Yingzhuo’s smile deepened. Qu Peiyun's eye started twitching as he stammered, "—Officer."

He stammered further, "So... did you find something?"

Lu Yingzhuo drawled, "Want to know?"

Qu Peiyun nodded eagerly.

Lu Yingzhuo said, "You got your phone on you?"

Qu Peiyun’s brow twitched. "...Yes."

Lu Yingzhuo: "Hand it over."

Qu Peiyun’s mind raced with doubt, half convinced it was impossible, half unnerved by the officer’s calm confidence.

Maybe this was all a bluff?

Qu Peiyun desperately tried to convince himself, wringing his hands before slowly pulling his phone from his side pocket.

The phone’s glow was barely visible under the harsh lighting.

*"O-Officer?"* he stammered, raising his trembling gaze in question.

Lu Yingzhu spoke softly, "What time is it?"

At those words, Qu Peiyun’s blood ran cold, any hope he had left evaporated.

Yet, unwilling to give in, he still clung to denial: "Nine... twenty-seven."

Lu Yingzhu gave a slight nod and gestured to the side. "Look at the clock."

Qu Peiyun instinctively turned his head, only to hear him ask, "Does the time match?"

Qu Peiyun stiffened, his body freezing as if plunged into an icy abyss.

By now, how could he not understand what was happening?

His voice hoarse, he replied, "It... matches..."

Lu Yingzhu stared at him. "Confess, and it’ll go easier on you. Resist, and it’ll be worse."

"Qu Peiyun, is there anything you’d like to admit now?"

The room went dead silent. Qu Peiyun's heart pounded wildly, his eyes darting nervously, cold sweat soaking his back.

But as he ran through his alibi again, he gradually calmed down.

Right, they might have noticed the discrepancy in time—but so what? They had no hard proof against him.

He couldn’t panic. Maybe they were waiting for him to dig his own grave.

As long as he didn’t confess, they had no way to pin it on him.

Qu Peiyun took a deep breath. "I don’t follow."

He spoke hurriedly, "I—I was fishing by the pond the whole time. I don’t know anything, and I don’t know what I should confess. Jing Jing is my daughter, Police Officer. Even if you're eager to solve the case, you can’t just pin this on some random person—"

Listening to Qu Peiyun's excuses, Lu Yingzhu let out a cold laugh, his expression darkening instantly. "Badmouthing a cop? That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen."

Qu Peiyun’s words died in his throat.

Lu Yingzhu banged the table. "We've confirmed that the clock in Jing Jing's room was tampered with—someone moved it forward an hour! That means when Jing Jing fell asleep, it wasn’t three o’clock, but past two!"

"You keep insisting that you left after Jing Jing fell asleep, that you never left the pond, and that no one touched your phone. So when you arrived at the pond, it should’ve been just past two. Then how’d you end up at three?"

"Huh?!" Qu Peiyun looked stunned. "Two o’clock? Jing Jing fell asleep at two? But I—I..."

Panicked, he shook his head frantically. "I don’t know, I really don’t. I just saw—the clock showing past three. It didn’t even cross my mind. As for the phone, I have no idea..."

He racked his brain, his tone desperate. "Police Officer, I swear, I’m clueless here."

He looked downright pitiful, about to bawl. Shen Qingye and the other out-of-town officers, letting Lu Yingzhu take the lead, had no choice but to watch as Qu Peiyun put on his act.

Lu Yingzhuo said coldly, "Don't know? Then explain to me what you were doing between 2:00-something and three-twenty?"

"You expect me to believe you walked for an hour?!"

Qu Peiyun felt a bitter taste in his throat, resenting the officer’s cunning for cutting off every excuse in advance, leaving him no room to claim he was doing anything else. Now, he could only feign ignorance and stubbornly refuse to admit anything.

"Officer, I swear I don’t know..." His eyes suddenly lit up. "Could it... could it be that someone changed the time on my phone beforehand and then, after I got back, secretly changed it back when I wasn’t paying attention?"

Listening to this ridiculous story, Lu Yingzhuo almost scoffed. "You had no contact with outsiders. The people around you, aside from the child, were your wife and mother-in-law. Who exactly are you suspecting with that statement?"

"Song Runing has been at the teahouse the whole time since she left, and the owner can vouch for her. Are you suggesting your mother-in-law—Jing Jing’s grandmother—set this whole thing up and framed you for it, is that it?"

Qu Peiyun hurriedly replied, "That’s not what I meant! But Mom has no reason to do something like this, and neither do I! That’s my child—even a vicious tiger wouldn’t harm its own cub. What would I gain?!"

"Exactly, even a vicious tiger wouldn’t harm its own cub!" Lu Yingzhuo pounded the table, suppressing his fury as he spoke word by word. "But you? After raising your daughter for five years, you didn’t bat an eye before hurling her off that mountain!"

"Before you threw her down—what was Jing Jing’s reaction? Was she crying? Was she begging you?"

"In that household, she was closest to you. And you? What did you do?!"

"Qu Peiyun, do you even have a heart?"

Qu Peiyun’s heart pounded violently with each slam of the table.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stammered, "O-Officer..."

But Lu Yingzhuo was done humoring him. Suppressing his anger, he pulled out a transparent evidence bag from under the table and waved it in front of Qu Peiyun. "Do you recognize this?"

Qu Peiyun looked up, his pupils contracting sharply, his breath catching.

His neck stiffened, his hands clenched at his sides, and his Adam’s apple bobbed once before he said, "I don’t know."

"What... what is this?" He wore an expression of blank confusion, as if genuinely innocent.

Lu Yingzhuo was done humor him. He sneered mockingly, "Too bad for you—Jing Jing saw these gloves."

Qu Peiyun’s face instantly paled.

Lu Yingzhuo continued, "She mentioned Cinderella’s gloves were white, but Daddy wore a pair of black ones. How strange."

He stared at him, his voice calm but laced with menace. "Qu Peiyun, where are those black gloves you wore?"

The room fell dead silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Qu Peiyun’s jaw clenched, his usual gentle smile finally crumbling as he fixed a bloodshot glare on the gloves.

Lu Yingzhuo’s tone was mockingly light. "What, didn’t expect the one to expose you in the end wasn’t anyone else, but a child you never gave a second thought to?"

Qu Peiyun shot him a look of pure malice.

Lu Yingzhuo said flatly, "You can remain silent. You can keep resisting. But it doesn’t matter anymore. The evidence is airtight. Nothing you say now will change anything."

Qu Peiyun bared his teeth in a grin.

He slumped into relaxation, lifting his gaze to Lu Yingzhuo with an offhanded, almost dismissive tone as he admitted, "Yes, it was me."

The corners of his eyes drooped with irritation as he smirked. "Never expected that girl—dead or not—could still pull one over on me."

"Just like her mother... just as unbearable..."

The group exchanged uneasy looks. Shen Qingye frowned deeply, but before she could speak, the door to the room suddenly swung open. The officer on guard outside quickly called out, "Wait, Ms. Song—"

Before he could finish, Song Runing was already standing in the doorway.

She stared at the man she’d slept beside for years, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her emotions, yet her eyes reddened uncontrollably.

"Why?"

Her voice cracked, thick with disbelief: "Just because I refused to have another child?"

Qu Peiyun cocked his head, unfazed.

He took in her rumpled clothes, tangled hair, and swollen eyes before saying, "Song Runing, you know what? At first, I didn’t actually plan to kill her."

Song Runing froze, her gaze trembling as she forced out the words, "What do you mean?"

Qu Peiyun leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "At first, I’d lined up a good family for her. A couple married for years, childless—they dreamed of having their own child. I struck a deal to hand Jing Jing over. That way, they’d get what they wanted, and I’d be rid of a problem."

Song Runing choked out, "You were going to sell her?"

"Exactly." Qu Peiyun said leisurely. "Honestly, you made it easy. At first, they were hesitant—after all, she wasn’t a boy. But they also knew most families wouldn’t give away a son. Plus, you made sure Jing Jing turned out well—pale, delicate, cute. They were sold just from her pictures! We even agreed on a price—they were willing to pay a thousand yuan!"

He held up a finger triumphantly, his expression full of satisfaction. Song Runing, however, could only stare in disbelief. "A thousand yuan?"

She barked a bitter laugh. "You thought that if Jing Jing was gone, I’d agree to have another child? That if you gave her away, I’d just... give in?"

Qu Peiyun replied, "Of course not."

He continued, "At first, you’d be devastated, desperate to find her. But after a year, two years... three, five years—would you still cling to hope? Even if you could, would your mother really let you live the rest of your life without a child?"

Song Runing opened her mouth, staring at this stranger who was once her husband, shaking her head helplessly. "This was your *plan*? *This*?"

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling at her sides, her face contorted in agony. "If that’s the case, then why not just give her away? Why not stick to your original plan? Why kill her? Why throw her off that mountain?"

Right then, she’d have taken Qu Peiyun selling their daughter—anything that meant she’d still be alive. Not like now, reduced to just a tiny, cold corpse.

Qu Peiyun smiled at her, eerily tender. "Because she was just too much like you."

Song Runing went rigid.

Qu Peiyun’s voice softened, as if whispering in her ear. "Runing, Jing Jing was so, so much like you."

"That same stubborn, bossy streak—the way she’d insist on getting whatever she wanted—it was exactly like you."

Song Runing’s knees buckled, and she leaned against the wall for support.

Qu Peiyun shook his head, sighing regretfully. "Sometimes, it felt unfair. Why? You gave birth to her, but I was the one who raised her all these years. I raised her from a helpless infant, watched her grow into a lively little girl who could run, jump, laugh, and throw tantrums. I taught her how to speak, walk, eat... everything. Shouldn’t she have been more like me?"

"But no. She was just like you—even though you barely spent time with her, even though you spoke to her less in a week than I did in a single day..."

He smiled at Song Runing. "But she was exactly like you."

"I was going to take her over the mountain to the family we agreed on, but she woke up on the way, crying and screaming to go home. No matter how I tried to calm her, she wouldn’t listen—kicking, punching, throwing a fit, no regard for anyone else—"

He looked at Song Runing: "Doesn't that sound exactly like you?"

Song Runing felt her hands and feet turn icy, her voice trembling as she said, "So... you killed her?"

Qu Peiyun replied, "Originally, I planned to send her away. Once our son grew up, we could've just brought her back later."

"But when I had to endure her kicking and hitting, had to listen to her screaming and throwing tantrums, I suddenly thought—what's the point?"

He smiled gently. "She was so much like you. When she grew up, she probably wouldn’t have turned out obedient anyway. So why go through all that trouble?"

"If I let you think she was just missing, you’d spend endless time, effort, and money searching for her—all for nothing. But if you saw her body directly, you’d grieve for a while, but knowing your nature, you’d bounce back quick enough, if only for your mother’s sake. Then, when we had a new child—"

"Qu Peiyun!" Song Runing roared. "That was your daughter! Your own flesh and blood!"

She could no longer hold back, tears pouring out as her entire body shook. "She was your child too, damn it! She spent all those years with you, adored you, always saved the first bite for you—"

"And you took her life, all for the sake of some imaginary son?"

Her tears fell like rain, her voice filled with grief and despair. "Is your son preference really that strong? Is a so-called son really that important to you?"

Qu Peiyun’s expression darkened instantly, his voice cracking with anger. "What do you know? What do you know?!"

He stood up, slamming his hands on the table. "You’ve always been selfish! Always acting so superior! You only care about your family—have you ever cared about me? About my family?"

"You haven’t!"

Song Runing retorted, "How have I not cared about you? How have I not cared about your family? Didn’t I send gifts every damn holiday? Didn’t I always make sure they had their share of anything good?"

Qu Peiyun scoffed. "You call that caring? Was that your concern? Or was it just your assistant’s?"

"What did you actually do? All you did was give orders, tell others to handle it! All you did was throw some pocket change!"

"You couldn’t even be bothered to visit my family for New Year’s! You’d rather send me back alone than go with me!"

Song Runing leaned against the doorframe, letting out a bitter laugh.

Qu Peiyun glared at her. "Do you know how many snide looks I get every time I step outside?"

"Everyone laughs at me—laughs at me for only having a daughter, for having no one to carry on the family name. They mock me for being a live-in son-in-law, a pretty boy, for even letting the child take the mother’s surname. Even my own mother, brother, and sister-in-law look down on me. Every word out of their mouths is dripping with contempt..."

"You knew all this," he said quietly. "Yet you refused to do anything."

Song Runing almost laughed. "What was I supposed to do? What do you want me to do?"

"Qu Peiyun, we agreed before marriage—I’d spend New Year’s with my mother, you with yours. And no matter the gender, we’d only have one child."

"You agreed to it." Song Runing couldn’t understand. "If you were so unhappy, if you wanted a son so badly, why did you marry me in the first place?"

Qu Peiyun shouted, "But with all the gossip outside, couldn’t you have considered me for once?!"

"And who considered me?!" Song Runing raised her voice. "Qu Peiyun, when I gave birth to Jing Jing, it was premature and a difficult delivery—I almost bled out!" She slapped her stomach. "Even now, there’s still this massive scar right here!"

"Qu Peiyun, you keep talking about having another child so casually—have you ever stopped to think I might die?!"

Qu Peiyun snapped, "Women give birth every day. The reason you had a difficult delivery last time was because you were married to your damn job. If you'd just stayed off your feet like you were supposed to during pregnancy, it wouldn’t have happened!"

Song Runing demanded, "Who'd run the company?"

Qu Peiyun shot back, "Aren’t you paying all those people? Are they all useless without you? And if it really came down to it, wasn’t I good enough to take over?"

Song Runing went quiet in an instant.

She stared at Qu Peiyun, then after a beat, spoke softly, "Qu Peiyun, if you want a son so badly, why don't you just kill me and find another woman to have one with?"

Qu Peiyun paused at her words, but since things had come to this, he no longer wanted to hide anything. He sneered coldly, "You think I haven’t thought about it?"

Song Runing’s breath caught.

Qu Peiyun’s eyes darkened. "I once thought about setting up an accident to kill you. Then, at the very least, half of your estate would be mine. With that, what woman wouldn’t I be able to get? How many sons couldn’t I have?"

"Too bad, too bad," Qu Peiyun shook his head, speaking regretfully. "But before I could put my plan into motion, I discovered something."

Song Runing shut her eyes—she already knew where this was going.

Sure enough, Qu Peiyun spoke slowly, emphasizing every word, "I found your will."

"If you were to die unexpectedly, three-fifths of all the assets under your name would go to your mother. The remaining two-fifths would go to Jing Jing, but until she comes of age, your mother would manage it on her behalf."

"And me? As your husband, all I’d get is a lousy million bucks and some rundown house."

"Song Runing," he stared at her, "is this what you call caring for me and treating me well?"

The room went dead silent—not a peep.

Shen Qingye and the others, who had been watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances but said nothing.

After what seemed like forever, Song Runing finally spoke wearily, "I had that will drawn up early this year—lawyer and all."

"To be more precise, it was the day after January 12th."

Seeing Qu Peiyun's blank expression, she gave a faint smile and continued, "That night, I staggered home half-conscious. You got me cleaned up and changed."

"In the middle of the night, I woke up parched and saw you, bleary-eyed, in the next room, comforting Jing Jing, who had woken up scared."

"My heart melted a little. I started thinking maybe I’d been wrong, too hard on you. I thought about talking things over with you properly the next day."

"And then... I overheard you sweet-talking Jing Jing, nudging her to ask for a baby brother."

Qu Peiyun’s face twitched as the memory came back to him, his expression shifting slightly.

Song Runing gazed at him quietly. "Qu Peiyun, in the past, I really thought of you as family. I really believed you cared about this household."

"But I’d been dead wrong."

His family’s contempt, the gossip from those around him, his wife’s domineering nature, and years of being a nobody in his own home—all these factors piled up, putting the thought in Qu Peiyun’s head to kill Song Runing.

But after accidentally discovering her will and realizing that even if she died, he would gain little, Qu Peiyun had to reconsider.

His first move was to get control over Jing Jing. After all, even if Song Runing distrusted him, she’d never suspect her own daughter. Once both she and the old lady were gone, wouldn’t everything belong to Jing Jing?

And Jing Jing was young, always dependent on him. What difference did it make if those assets were in her hands or his?

That had been his reasoning.

But as Jing Jing grew older day by day, her personality and mannerisms became more and more like Song Runing’s—so much that it was like they were blood, and he was just some stranger.

As his daughter grew to look more and more like his wife, Qu Peiyun felt both irritation and a growing sense of panic.

Could he really keep Jing Jing in line?

If he couldn’t even handle Song Runing, how could he possibly control a child who was so much like her?

If he failed, wouldn’t all his efforts be for nothing?

But what if… Jing Jing weren’t around anymore?

If Jing Jing were gone, and they had another child—a boy this time—wouldn’t he look just like him?

He’d be obedient, well-behaved—a spitting image of him… Then, it would be the two of them, father and son, as a real family.

And Song Runing, no matter what, wouldn’t abandon her own child, right?

As long as Jing Jing wasn’t in the picture.

As long as Jing Jing were gone.

So Qu Peiyun hatched a plan for this trip.

……

Qu Peiyun, in handcuffs, was led away. Lu Yingzhuo and Shen Qingye said their goodbyes to Yue Lingchuan, thanking him for his assistance, before returning to the station to handle the case’s aftermath.

Song Runing stood outside the courtyard, watching numbly as the police car faded into the distance, her face blank with shock.

Shen Qingye stood beside her, unsure of what to say. She gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, standing by her side in quiet companionship.

After a moment, Song Runing’s lashes trembled slightly, and she suddenly spoke: “Jing Jing wasn’t even supposed to have that name.”

Shen Qingye turned to look at her.

Song Runing continued, “Originally, her name was Jin Jin—the ‘jin’ as in ‘a pound.’”

Jin… Jin.

Shen Qingye paused slightly.

Song Runing glanced back at her, reminiscing with a faint smile. “When I was pregnant with her, the first few months were brutal. The nausea was relentless—I was throwing up bile daily. There were times I even considered terminating the pregnancy, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I just toughed it out, day after day, until finally, after four months, she quieted down, and I got some relief.”

“At the time, the company was in a make-or-break phase—it couldn’t function without me. So I carried her with me every day, working late, sometimes till 10 or 11 p.m.”

“Qu Peiyun and my mother kept begging me to take it easy, to focus on my health and the baby. But with so many people relying on the company, how could I just drop everything? I refused to listen and kept pushing forward.”

“Luckily, she was strong. She was calm and steady in my womb, passing every prenatal checkup without issue.”

“Then, right when I reached seven months, one night, I worked late until past ten. On the way home, the streets were almost deserted.”

“The driver I hired was always smooth and cautious behind the wheel—I never had to worry. That night was no different.”

“But just because he was skilled didn’t mean others were.”

“As we passed through an intersection, a car from the right ignored their red light and came barreling toward us. By the time the driver realized, it was too late to brake.”

“The two cars collided. Thankfully, my driver reacted quickly, swerving so that the other car only clipped the rear.”

"I wasn't seriously injured, but my stomach was hit, and I immediately started having abdominal pain and discharging fluid."

"Just like that, I went into premature labor and gave birth to a baby girl, weighing just 3 jin 7 liang."

"She was so tiny, I remember it clearly—she was only this big, this long." She gestured with her hands, with a soft smile. "I had never seen such a small baby before, and I thought she was too tiny, too thin. So I decided to name her Jinjin, hoping she'd put on more weight and grow up quickly."

"But my mother didn’t like it. She said, 'What kind of name is Jinjin for a girl? It sounds stingy, like someone counting every penny. Not good. Better to call her Jingjing, like something bright and sparkling.'"

"I thought that was fine too. My daughter would surely grow up to shine brightly—what a lovely thought."

She looked at her, but the tears could no longer be held back, streaming down her face as her voice broke with sobs. "She was supposed to shine brightly... She was supposed to shine brightly..."

"How could this happen... How could this happen..."

Song Runing’s grip on the doorframe loosened, and she slowly collapsed to the ground, burying her head between her knees. Her quiet weeping gradually turned into gut-wrenching sobs.

For the first time, Shen Qingye hated being so tongue-tied, hated that she couldn’t find the right words to comfort her in such a moment, to give her even a little comfort.

All she could do was sit beside her on the cold ground, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into an embrace.

"Plip, plop"—tears fell to the ground, one after another, leaving tiny wet marks.

Shen Qingye closed her eyes and heaved a quiet sigh.

...

What was meant to be a pleasant trip had taken such a dark turn. No one could have imagined a murder would occur, let alone that the perpetrator would be the child’s own father.

The next morning, tourists in the scenic area were all overheard the chatter about the incident. Shen Qingye listened absentmindedly, her eyes automatically seeking out the Song family’s lodging.

Yue Lingchuan, standing beside her, noticed and said, "The mother and daughter left early this morning."

Shen Qingye turned to him. "Left?"

Yue Lingchuan nodded. "They said they were going to hire the best lawyer to make sure Qu Peiyun stays in prison for as long as possible."

"And... they wanted to take Jingjing home, to the places she loved most."

Shen Qingye was silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "That's only right."

She looked into the distance. The scenery of Shiliang Town remained unchanged—the sky just as blue, the mountains just as green, the water just as clear.

As if yesterday’s bloodshed had been nothing more than a bad dream.

Shen Qingye felt strangely disoriented.

...

What was meant to be a joyful outing had taken such a tragic turn. No one was in the mood to continue.

But since the rooms were already booked, no one wanted to cut the trip short. Yet staying and pretending nothing had happened felt equally wrong too. So for the next few days, they decided not to confine themselves to Shiliang Town. Instead, they rented a car and explored the surrounding areas, taking in the local culture and scenery.

As the days passed, the gloom of the tragedy began to fade, and the atmosphere among them became easier, more relaxed.

One day, while out sightseeing, Yue Lingchuan spotted a gardenia tree in the distance, its blossoms glistening white like fresh snow. Moved, he found the tree’s owner, got permission to pick a few petals, and then made his way back to Shen Qingye, handing them to her.

Shen Qingye hesitated only briefly before accepting, holding them to her nose for a gentle sniff.

Whatever Yue Lingchuan said next made her laugh, her eyes lighting up with laughter. In that moment, she shed all her usual reserve, radiant, even more dazzling than the gardenias in her hands.

Gao Ruiyang watched from a distance, pausing mid-step as he suddenly caught on belatedly.

"My sister... Captain Yue..." He jogged over to his mother, glancing between them and her, stammering with an expression of complete disbelief.

Bai Xiuyu shot her son an exasperated look. "You just noticed?"

Gao Ruiyang was momentarily stunned, then couldn't help stealing a few more glances in their direction.

Watching closely, it did seem... something wasn't right.

Wait, how? Since when?

His head was spinning with questions, but despite his bewilderment, it didn’t stop him from taking a sudden dislike to Yue Lingchuan.

·

The shift in Gao Ruiyang’s attitude naturally didn’t escape the adults, nor Yue Lingchuan, who was a homicide detective.

After all, the dirty looks whenever he got too close to Shen Qingye made it impossible to miss.

At first, Yue Lingchuan was puzzled, unsure when he’d offended the younger man. But when it finally clicked, he couldn’t help but smirk.

The smirking only earned him another glare from Gao Ruiyang, but Yue Lingchuan didn’t hold back, smirking even more.

Shen Qingye, curious, asked what he was so happy about. Yue Lingchuan replied, "Just thinking if this counts as passing a test early."

Shen Qingye paused, then caught his meaning and gave him a pointed look.

·

On the way back, Gao Ruiyang still regarded Yue Lingchuan like he was something stuck to his shoe. When Yue Lingchuan moved to help with the luggage, Gao Ruiyang quickly interjected, "I got this!"

Noticing Yue Lingchuan gradually walking alongside Shen Qingye, he swiftly wedged himself between them, towing his luggage. "Sis, walk with me."

Once on the plane, as Yue Lingchuan was about to take the seat next to Shen Qingye, Gao Ruiyang shouldered him out of the way and beamed at her. "Sis, let’s sit together."

Left standing, Yue Lingchuan could only shake his head in frustration, unable to protest as he shot Shen Qingye a pleading look.

Meeting his gaze, Shen Qingye deliberately pretended to be engrossed in the window view.

With a heavy sigh, Yue Lingchuan had to settle for the aisle seat.

Time passed, the cabin door closed, and the plane took off on schedule.

Once cruising altitude was reached, the flight stabilized.

Gao Ruiyang kept squirming in his seat.

Shen Qingye glanced at him. "What’s wrong?"

He turned red. "Nothing... Sis, I just need to use the restroom."

Earlier, to prevent Yue Lingchuan from seizing any opportunity, he’d been holding it in—only to make it worse.

Shen Qingye bit back a smile and urged him to go.

Gao Ruiyang made a beeline for the back of the plane but stumbled slightly when the aircraft jolted, colliding with someone coming the opposite way.

He quickly apologized, "Sorry, sorry!"

"It’s fine," the other person mumbled without looking up. Yue Lingchuan had been looking that way absently, about to look away when something suddenly registered, and his gaze snapped back sharply.