Chapter 6

Chapter 6

For two days straight, Fang Bingxue ate beef noodles.

His palate was a bit delicate, yet he still tried pouring chili oil into his bowl like the locals, convinced by the chef’s promise that it was fragrant, not spicy. But after just a few bites, tears streamed down his face, and he had to chug two bottles of AD Calcium-Fortified Milk to quell the burn.

Outside, the wind howled, and the ochre sky hung low. Every time Fang Bingxue stepped out, the gusts made it hard to open his eyes, and he’d return needing to wash his hair, feeling as if his head were constantly covered in sand.

Such idle moments were rare for him.

In the past, showers were a luxury. During his busiest stretches, he’d snatch naps in his car for three to five days straight. When he finally made it home, Teacher Qin would wrinkle her nose in disgust, declaring he smelled "sour." Only after he emerged from the bathroom would she reluctantly hug her son, calling him "our sweet-smelling little bun."

Back then, pulling all-nighters on stakeouts with colleagues, chewing tea leaves to stay awake, chugging coffee, and eating instant noodles for supper, he never imagined he’d one day have the luxury of simply staring blankly into space.

It felt almost unsettlingly unfamiliar.

Fang Bingxue sighed, realizing he truly couldn’t sit still—he was born to work.

"Thank you," he said, shaking hands with a smile. "Fang Bingxue—just call me Xiao Fang."

He had arrived ahead of schedule.

The person assigned to receive him was Deputy Director Li Wenbin, whose eyes were rimmed red from exhaustion, his chin covered in stubble, and his speech a little slurred. "Ah, Xiao Fang, right? I’ll take you to the dorm."

Fang Bingxue chuckled. "Sir, you still haven’t let go of my hand."

Li Wenbin snapped out of his daze. "Oh, right…"

He finally released Fang Bingxue’s hand and quickly briefed him on the situation: Lichuan County had a population of about 100,000, with relatively underdeveloped economic conditions. Some officers were completely clueless about computer operations, let alone advanced techniques like DNA analysis.

"Sampling and preservation tools are all equipped," Li Wenbin said quickly, his voice loud. "We even have a small generator. The power grid has been unstable lately, so we’re worried about blackouts."

As he spoke, he led Fang Bingxue toward the family quarters.

It was midday, and the flapping national flag radiated heat under the sun, making Fang Bingxue’s eyes sting. He followed silently, his gaze sweeping over the police car spattered with yellow mud before stepping into the family quarters across the street. At the entrance stood a tall Chinese scholar tree, its branches tangled with a rusty tin loudspeaker and a windblown plastic bag.

A few sparrows pecked at sunflower seeds wedged between the bricks, barely fearing humans, only fluttering away when startled by the noise. The family quarters weren’t large—just three apartment buildings in total. Li Wenbin entered the eastern one, taking Fang Bingxue up to the fourth floor before jangling a set of keys. "It’s pretty basic here—sorry about that."

Fang Bingxue hoisted his duffel. "You call this basic?"

The place was bright and clean, with a living room and bedroom. Even from the doorway, sunlight flooded the room. Basic furniture was provided—a sofa, a coffee table, and two metal cabinets against the wall.

Li Wenbin grinned. "I figured, coming from a big city…"

Fang Bingxue waved it off. "Not at all."

Lichuan County wasn't exactly prosperous, but it wasn't destitute either. Located inland, its economy relied mainly on traditional farming and herding, with little industrial development. However, in recent years, they had been actively attracting investment, with some success.

So, to Fang Bingxue, it just seemed like a fairly typical, ordinary county town.

At most, the sandstorms were a bit more intense.

But that was fine; Fang Bingxue had researched it beforehand. Wind and sand control efforts were ongoing and had made good progress.

"I’ll take you to eat," Li Wenbin continued. "Get you familiar with our environment. The unit canteen serves three meals a day, but you can cook for yourself too—there’s a kitchen."

Fang Bingxue said sincerely, "Sounds great. Thanks."

He genuinely thought the conditions were excellent.

As they headed downstairs, Li Wenbin turned back. "Oh, Xiao Fang, where’s your luggage? Still in the car?"

Fang Bingxue replied, "Yes."

But then he added, "No rush. I’ll grab it when I have time. You go ahead with your work."

Li Wenbin didn’t insist. He’d been swamped lately—when Fang Bingxue had arrived earlier to complete his personnel file transfer, Li Wenbin hadn’t even been able to show up. He’d only hurried into the office, panting, after the registration formalities were done.

So, lunch was a hurried affair.

Just as hastily, Li Wenbin handed Fang Bingxue over to a young officer with a hurried "Get him oriented," before leaving without another word.

Fang Bingxue felt a pang of guilt—he’d been killing time the past two days while everyone else was working nonstop.

The young officer had a round face and spoke shyly. "Um, what do you like to eat? I can take you somewhere."

Fang Bingxue smiled. "I just ate… What should I call you?"

"My name’s Ma Rui," the other man said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I graduated from the police academy last year."

"Then I’m a bit older than you," Fang Bingxue said, shaking his hand. "I’m twenty-six."

Ma Rui gasped. "Really? You don’t look it at all."

He studied Fang with frank admiration. "You’re seriously handsome!"

Fang Bingxue replied, "You’re not so bad yourself."

Ma Rui flushed crimson. "Ah, how—how can you say that to me?"

Fang Bingxue looked at him, amused. "Then drop the honorifics—it’s awkward."

Fresh graduates usually started in local police stations, handling minor public order cases or community patrols. Fang Bingxue could imagine Ma Rui getting flustered in a crowd—young, nervous. So he spoke with extra patience. "I’d like to buy a blanket first, get the dorm sorted."

Ma Rui finally relaxed. "Sure, I’ll take you!"

Being around the same age, they quickly warmed up. Ma Rui crunched into an apple in the passenger seat, explaining that because of the pun nickname from his name, everyone called him "Mary." But he didn’t mind—he thought it sounded nice. Midway through, he twisted around—

"Want a bite? It’s from the canteen—crazy crisp and sweet!"

Fang Bingxue kept his eyes on the road. "I’m driving."

Ma Rui plopped back obediently but soon turned again. "You know, you’re not just good-looking—you’re also really cool!"

When they reached the pedestrian street Ma Rui had mentioned, Fang Bingxue braked and hooked his sunglasses down with a fingertip. "Hmm?"

"Is it because of these?" he explained. "My eyes are a bit sensitive, so they help block the light."

Ma Rui shook his head vigorously, still fidgeting with the apple core. "No, it’s not that. I can’t really explain."

He just felt Fang Bingxue was… different.

Ma Rui had never seen someone with such fair skin. At first glance, Fang Bingxue didn’t look like a cop at all—he could be mistaken for an idol. Standing there in a white shirt, tall and lean, with finely carved features and an unapproachable elegance, he had an almost aloof purity.

"...That description’s a bit much."

Arms full of bedding, Fang Bingxue looked over in pained amusement. "What idol dramas have you been binging?"

Ma Rui stood there mortified. "Forget I said anything."

Because he never expected that Fang Bingxue's taste would be so unfashionably rustic—the moment they entered the bedding store, he immediately headed for the sheets printed with gaudy red peonies.

Under the enthusiastic recommendations of the shop assistant, he then turned his delighted gaze to another set with an auspicious floral print.

"What's wrong?" Fang Bingxue asked with genuine confusion. "Don't they look nice?"

So cheerful and cozy.

As he spoke, he picked up a pillow, hugged it for a moment, and nodded in approval. "Pretty good actually."

Ma Rui silently trailed behind, saying nothing.

If his previous impression of Fang Bingxue had been that of a big-city elite—spraying foreign cologne, eating medium-rare steak, wearing silky pajamas—then now he suddenly seemed folksy, as if he used baby lotion on his face every morning.

In the end, Fang Bingxue happily paid for his purchases.

Opening the trunk, he showed off his purchases with great satisfaction: "Two sets, so I can switch them out for washing."

Ma Rui: "Yeah, sure."

Aside from these, Fang Bingxue didn’t need to buy much else. He had brought his own toiletries, and clothes could wait until the season changed. As for kitchenware, there was no need—he couldn’t cook at all.

So Ma Rui didn’t stay with this officer from out of town for too long. Fang Bingxue said they could check out more places later, since he was stationed here for a year—no rush.

After seeing Ma Rui off, Fang Bingxue went to get his car washed. By the time he entered the residential compound, it was almost evening. He carried the two large bedding sets back to his place, only to realize while preparing to wash them that there was no washing machine in the room.

On the bare wooden bed lay only a plastic-wrapped, unopened mattress.

Fang Bingxue: "..."

At the same time, he realized another issue—after washing the bedding, he’d still need to dry it. So, where was he supposed to sleep tonight?

It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but Fang Bingxue wasn't very self-sufficient. As a child, his mother took care of everything, and as an adult, the nature of his job left him with little time to fuss over details. But outside of work, once he got home, he was actually pretty high-maintenance.

The people upstairs and downstairs were all from the same unit, but Fang Bingxue, being new here, was too new to ask to stay with anyone. Besides, he wasn’t used to sharing a room with others. That’s why, when he heard that the Northwest assignment wasn’t a standard team deployment but a solo one, he signed up without hesitation.

Deep down, Fang Bingxue preferred being alone.

Standing by the window, he lit a cigarette. The prescription from the pharmacy had worked well—his fever was gone, and his throat was mostly better. The glowing ember flickered as smoke drifted past his pale features, dissolving into the night sky.

Then, those beautiful eyes widened abruptly.

The fourth-floor view was excellent. From this angle, he could clearly see the entrance of the police station, where Deputy Director Li Wenbin stepped out of a patrol car, followed by a tall man in a black leather jacket.

The man looked like he was chewing gum, looking cocky and indifferent.

Fang Bingxue, smoking Huanghelou for the first time, choked and started coughing violently—

At the same time, Zhou Xu seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up toward the source of light.

In the soft light, the curtains billowed in the breeze, swaying gently.

Li Wenbin turned back inexplicably. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," Zhou Xu replied lazily. "Probably just some stray cat."

His expression remained calm, while Fang Bingxue, leaning against the wall with a hand over his mouth, turning red from holding in coughs, his eyes filled with shock.

The first time they met, Fang Bingxue had thought Zhou Xu was thuggish, moved like a man who'd killed before—

Wait a minute—had he gotten arrested already?