Chapter 210 17

Chapter 210 (17)

The group chat instantly erupted.

He Lin was completely absorbed in reading when he suddenly turned his head to see Li Shang, nestled in his arms, staring up at him intently.

Caught by Li Shang’s gaze, He Lin flinched, nearly dropping his phone.

Li Shang hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction from He Lin. His pupils narrowed like a cat’s, and he asked with a curious expression, “What are you looking at?”

Lately, due to their work on the special case, Li Shang had developed a subconscious aversion to his phone. He would switch it off and lock it away during work hours, using only a dedicated work phone for communication, and rarely checked it after hours.

This habit had actually been beneficial for his eyes; the aftereffects of his snow blindness had significantly improved.

He Lin largely followed the same routine, drastically cutting down his phone usage.

But tonight, He Lin had been glued to his phone all evening, which was quite out of character.

He Lin checked the time and realized it was already time for their nightly run.

Fearing Li Shang might misunderstand, he quickly handed over his phone: “It’s just stuff from the alumni group chat. You trust me, don’t you? Feel free to look.”

Li Shang wasn’t suspicious at all and found He Lin’s overly defensive behavior rather amusing. He then tossed the phone a good distance away: “No need.” He stood up and urged, “Hurry up and change, or it’ll be too late.”

They went out for a run, jogging several laps around the neighborhood under the streetlights.

Li Shang ran with a clear mind and light steps, leading the way. He Lin, in contrast, was preoccupied with what he’d read in the group chat, feeling troubled and lagging behind.

On the way back, as they neared the neighborhood entrance, Li Shang slowed his pace, seemingly waiting for He Lin. Sure enough, once He Lin caught up, they both transitioned from running to walking.

For the remainder of the journey, they walked side by side. After catching his breath, He Lin recounted in detail what had happened in the class group chat to Li Shang.

Li Shang remained silent, listening attentively until He Lin finished his story.

Noticing Li Shang’s quietness, He Lin pondered for a moment and asked, “Do you still remember Lü Yichen?”

Li Shang murmured in affirmation. After all, it was Lü Yichen who had informed him when He Lin fell into the lake. After rescuing him, he had exchanged a few words with the man.

He Lin, seemingly oblivious to Li Shang’s reticence, continued as they walked, “I never imagined he’d become so successful. I heard he even donated a building to the school.”

Li Shang naturally mused, “Life is unpredictable. No one can foresee anyone’s path.”

After a moment’s consideration, he shared his honest thoughts with He Lin: “However, I don’t particularly care for that classmate of yours.”

“Why?” He Lin was taken aback. In his memory, although Jiang Shangxue had been somewhat aloof in school, he was generally amiable. He wouldn’t bother others unless provoked.

Later, whether it was Rong Qing or Li Shang, they were mostly the same. It was rare to hear Li Shang express such strong dislike for someone.

Li Shang pondered the origin of this feeling and said, “I don’t know why, but the way he looked at me always seemed to carry a hint of hostility…”

That person usually followed quietly behind He Lin, and back in school, Jiang Shangxue didn’t interact much with them.

Mostly, they shared some general courses in large lecture halls. Occasionally, he would steal a glance at He Lin, and each time he looked away, he felt someone watching him.

After experiencing it a few times, he finally confirmed it was Lü Yichen.

His impression of him wasn’t good. The only connection between them was their class rankings—Li Shang was usually ranked higher than Lü Yichen—and they shared a common friend, He Lin.

That day, when he rushed to the lake and saw Lü Yichen standing at the center of the chaos, his heart sank. Before even asking, he sensed that something might have happened to He Lin.

So, after rescuing He Lin, he said to Lü Yichen, “Say whatever you want.” Partly because he was in a hurry, and partly because he had no interest in talking to him further.

Hearing Li Shang’s words, He Lin lowered his head, trying to recall more details.

Six years as classmates couldn’t have left only these scattered fragments in his memory.

But strangely, his mind was blank—aside from those few images, he couldn’t remember anything.

This was the second time he’d noticed that someone had almost completely vanished from his memory.

The first time he realized something was off was with Rong Qing.

Forgetting Rong Qing could be justified, but why couldn’t he remember this former classmate?

He Lin couldn’t explain this phenomenon at all. Whenever he tried to delve deeper, the wound on his head began to throb painfully, a pulsating ache, as if the blood vessels in his brain were under unbearable pressure, ready to burst.

When they returned home, Li Shang noticed He Lin seemed unwell and didn’t mention additional drills. He Lin sat down to rest and let Li Shang shower first.

After resting awhile, his headache finally subsided, and he went into the bathroom to shower.

By the time He Lin finished showering, he was back to normal. He saw Li Shang sitting at the desk with his hair still damp, looking at the computer.

He Lin leaned over and saw the screen filled with various app icons.

It was a list of all the installed software they had extracted from Yang Shumin’s phone. They had also obtained Yang Zhiyuan’s old phone and decrypted it.

Li Shang had compiled a list, categorizing and logging all the information.

This was one of the investigation strategies decided in the afternoon meeting. They were trying to figure out the relationships between these apps and determine how the target had lurked in the devices.

He Lin suddenly noticed his phone placed on the entryway shoe rack by Li Shang. He understood Li Shang’s intention—these devices were essential in daily life, yet upon closer inspection, they were full of vulnerabilities and dangers.

“Take a break. Others are handling this work too,” He Lin covered Li Shang’s eyes from behind, like a child playing hide-and-seek.

Li Shang placed his hand over He Lin’s.

He Lin didn’t understand why—even though they had just finished jogging and showering, his own hands were warm, but Li Shang’s were cool.

The thought made his heart ache: “Let me blow-dry your hair.”

He Lin fetched the hairdryer, but before he could get close, Li Shang instinctively dodged.

He Lin grabbed his collar: “Stay still. Be good. Your hair needs to be dried.”

Li Shang glanced at He Lin’s still-damp hair: “What about yours?”

He Lin leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I want to dry yours first.”

He Lin’s voice seemed to have a hypnotic effect. Li Shang fell silent immediately, allowing He Lin to tousle his hair while blow-drying it.

For a while, the room was quiet except for the hum of the hairdryer.

He Lin was always patient with Li Shang. Li Shang could feel He Lin’s fingers running through his hair and the warm air blowing from the dryer.

Leaning back in the chair, Li Shang felt the comforting warmth on his head and unconsciously closed his eyes.

Though a storm might be brewing outside, indoors, it was peacefully reassuring.

After Li Shang’s hair was completely dry, He Lin quickly dried his own before putting the hairdryer away.

After resting for a while, Li Shang opened his eyes again, glanced at the screen full of app icons, then looked at He Lin before him.

He suddenly remarked, "We truly live in a strange time."

He Lin asked, "What made you think of that?"

Li Shang thought for a moment before expressing his feelings: "On one hand, there are all these new technologies—space stations, drones, autonomous vehicles, robots, AI… things from sci-fi novels when we were kids have suddenly become reality. On the other hand, it seems like some outdated and decaying things are resurfacing. Every corner of the world presents a different scene, like a kaleidoscope. Who knows what the future holds."

They had witnessed so much on their journey.

Like what they encountered in Hanhua Village—the more society advances, the more some people cling desperately to old ways.

Similarly, what they saw in Country J, people were still being trafficked and so many compounds still existed.

Chaos, division, even war—yet time marches relentlessly forward.

He Lin was more pragmatic: "Compared to the overwhelming tide of change, each of us is insignificant. The best approach is to accept it, adapt to it, and then move forward. Besides, I can't concern myself with everything. Uphold justice, live your own life well, and cherish the people you love—that's enough."

As he spoke, he gently turned Li Shang's chin toward him and leaned in to kiss him.

Li Shang tilted his head slightly upward, responding to him.

He Lin's lips were soft, carrying a comforting warmth, as if trying to convey that power to Li Shang through the kiss. Not a single word of love was spoken, yet the air was filled with their wordless devotion.

Just as He Lin was getting carried away in the moment, wanting to gradually deepen the kiss, the phone on the entryway table suddenly rang at the most inopportune moment.

He Lin, still somewhat reluctant, pressed their foreheads together for a couple of seconds before walking over to check. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number. He answered and put it on speakerphone.

"Hello, Officer He, this is Yang Shumin. I finally remembered something—about that group and that organization." The woman's voice came through the phone.

Hearing this, Li Shang naturally flipped open his notepad, ready to help record the information.

He Lin said, "Go ahead."

Yang Shumin recalled, "I remember the software they used to add me to the group back then. It was called something like Mind Catcher..."

He Lin exchanged a glance with Li Shang upon hearing this. Was it a coincidence, or was there more to it?

After the suicide group case, the provincial department had investigated the company behind it, but the legal representative had passed away.

The so-called top leader was unreachable, and the few subordinates were all recently hired workers who knew nothing—many things remained unclear even to the employees.

At the time, this lead was considered a side branch of the case, and when it couldn't be pursued further, it was dropped.

Who would have thought it would be connected to the current case?

"Some of them joined the association—what was it called again..." Yang Shumin seemed to have forgotten. She skipped over that and continued, "Anyway, it was a spiritual group. Some said the leader had made a prediction even before the lantern festival incident. They also claimed that by participating in the induction rituals, you could learn more about the truth of the soul."

He Lin said, "Can you try to recall more details? What was the exact name of that organization?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, after a pause Yang Shumin finally spoke up: "I remember now—it was called the Sentient Beings Society!"