Chapter 247 52

Chapter 247: 52

During the surgery, the situation was perilous. Li Shang's heartbeat and breathing briefly ceased twice, and outside the operating room, He Lin received two critical condition notifications.

Fortunately, the surgery was ultimately successful.

It wasn't until early morning that Li Shang was wheeled out of the operating room and moved to the specialized ICU ward. He Lin, who had waited throughout, excitedly turned to grasp Dr. Song's hand, but before he could utter a word, he collapsed right in front of the doctor.

Despite his many years of medical practice, Dr. Song had never encountered a situation where a patient's family member suddenly fainted.

Fortunately, being already at the hospital, He Lin was immediately taken by the Second Hospital's doctors for emergency treatment.

An examination revealed that after the explosion, He Lin had suffered more than just superficial wounds. The more severe issue was blast wave injury, with contusions to his liver and spleen and internal bleeding that had been present from the start, though initially minimal and with inconspicuous symptoms.

However, his subsequent strenuous activity at the cliff—especially jumping down after Li Shang and pulling him back up—caused the bleeding to increase sharply, exacerbating his injuries.

At the time, He Lin only felt abdominal pain, dizziness, and a racing heart rate, his hands trembling as he handled bandages. But with his entire focus on Li Shang and under the influence of adrenaline, he attributed all these symptoms to his fear of losing Li Shang. His mind was wholly occupied with how to save him, so he endured everything.

It wasn’t until Li Shang’s emergency treatment was completed and He Lin’s internal bleeding had reached a critical level that he went into hemorrhagic shock and collapsed on the spot.

After checking the amount of internal bleeding, he was immediately rushed into surgery.

Dr. Song, having just finished one surgery, immediately began another consultation, working continuously for twenty hours to save him. When it came time to assign hospital rooms, Dr. Song was so exasperated he considered putting them both in a double ICU.

As soon as He Lin woke up, Dr. Song went to his bedside to scold him for his recklessness and near-death experience.

But upon hearing all this, He Lin remained unusually calm and asked directly, "What about Li Shang? How is he now?"

Dr. Song rolled his eyes. "What do you think? He’s alive! If you had died, and he woke up asking for you, what was I supposed to do? Conjure him out of thin air?"

Only then did He Lin hurriedly apologize: "I didn’t realize it was that serious. But you’re such a skilled doctor, aren't you? Saving one person is saving, and you're a good person through and through."

Though still angry, Dr. Song had to dutifully prescribe medication for his patient.

Over the next few days, both men’s conditions finally stabilized, and they were transferred to a specialized care ward. He Lin recovered more quickly and was soon able to get up and move about, but Li Shang remained unconscious.

The surgery was successful, medication was properly administered, and his wounds were gradually healing, yet he lay quietly in bed, breathing and with a heartbeat, but simply not waking up.

Once He Lin was a bit better, he took over many of the tasks of caring for Li Shang—washing his face, wiping his body, turning him—not relying on others.

Seeing He Lin devotedly keeping vigil by the hospital bed, Dr. Song’s earlier frustration from all-night shifts turned entirely into sympathy.

But with such a major surgery, any outcome was possible. He had seen patients whose conditions stabilized for over twenty days only to take a sudden turn for the worse and not make it; he had also seen cases where the situation worsened repeatedly, with multiple critical episodes, only for the patient to gradually recover in the end.

He could only comfort He Lin: "His vitals are improving. Keep calling his name, talk to him."

After seeing the doctor making rounds out, He Lin turned back to look at Li Shang’s serene sleeping face, gently took his hand, and kissed the back of it.

Li Shang was a light sleeper; normally, if He Lin did this, he would have woken up long ago. Sometimes, Li Shang would joke with him, keeping his eyes closed and pretending to be asleep, a slight smile curling at the corners of his mouth, deliberately patting him or pulling his hand away before turning over to sleep.

Other times, if he was uncomfortable, even while asleep, Li Shang would breathe rapidly and frown slightly. He Lin would smooth his brow with his fingers and warm his body. During that period when Li Shang had snow blindness, his eyes would sometimes tear up while sleeping, and He Lin would kiss his tears away.

But now, Li Shang’s eyes were closed, his long eyelashes resting gently, his face handsome, though still pale and thin. He slept peacefully and still.

He Lin moistened Li Shang’s lips with a cotton swab dipped in water, brushed the stray hairs from his forehead with his fingers, and felt he could never get enough of looking at him.

He said softly, "I know you’re tired. You’ve been through so much, and you finally cracked this case. You deserve a good, long sleep."

He Lin’s gaze was tender. After a pause, he continued, "It’s okay to sleep; I’ll keep watch over you. But when you’ve slept enough, you have to remember: Li Shang, I’m waiting for you."

.

Perhaps at the final moment of life, one truly can see their past.

This was Li Shang’s last conscious thought as he lay on the operating table.

Some called him Captain Rong, others called him Li Shang. From Tianning Base to the Missing Persons Investigation Unit, then to the Provincial Department, every scene from this journey flashed through his mind.

Until another voice sounded in his ear: "Xiaoxue? Xiaoxue…"

Jiang Shangxue suddenly turned around and saw himself sitting at a dining table. Looking up, he met the somewhat worried eyes of a man and a woman, both unfamiliar yet familiar.

"What’s wrong, Xiaoxue? Why are you spacing out all of a sudden?" The woman stood up and walked to his side, reaching out to touch his forehead. "Tell Mom, are you feeling unwell?"

Mom…

A word he hadn't heard in so long.

Jiang Shangxue’s voice was hoarse as he spoke: "I’m fine, Mom."

"Really okay?" A large hand patted his head. "If anything’s wrong, you have to tell Dad and Mom."

Finally, Jiang Shangxue came back to himself, belatedly remembering who he was and where he was.

This was his home. The table was set with a generous spread of food, including his favorite mushroom fried rice.

It seemed the scenes from before were just illusions—what base, what provincial department? He had no idea what those places were.

Jiang Shangxue quickly forgot about those things and happily picked up his chopsticks to serve himself his favorite dishes.

The atmosphere at the table instantly became lively, everyone’s eyes filled with laughter.

But from that day on, Jiang Shangxue began having dreams every night—bizarre, surreal dreams filled with scenes that didn’t match his age or experiences. Yet every time he opened his eyes, he would forget all the content of the dreams.

Because of this, Jiang Shangxue even fell ill and took a week off to rest at home. Under his parents’ careful care, he soon stopped dreaming.

A teenager’s mind is always a bit flighty, and he quickly put the matter behind him.

Jiang Shangxue loved his life now—his parents loved each other and loved him completely and unconditionally.

In the mornings, his father would ride a bike to take him to school, reminding him to listen carefully in class and get along well with his classmates. After school, he would walk home with a few friends, and as soon as he pushed open the door, he could smell the aroma of his favorite dishes his mother was cooking in the kitchen.

He grew up day by day, following the expected path. His father, a police officer, had always been his idol and role model. After the college entrance exams, he resolutely applied to police academy. However, following his mother’s advice, he didn’t choose a frontline specialty but instead opted for a technical role in the police academy.

After graduation and assignment, he smoothly entered the municipal bureau of a city, working in the Information and Audio-Visual Technology Department.

He knew of Tianning Base but had never been there. As for the Provincial Department, he had only been there for case coordination meetings and knew very few people.

He had completely forgotten the dreams from his childhood.

After working for three years, he was transferred to the Provincial Department.

He worked there for several more years. By the time he turned thirty, his salary had increased, his position had been promoted, and he gradually became the youngest department head in several departments. Anyone who met him in the hallway would address him as Director Jiang.

It was the last workday before the New Year, and no one was in the mood to work. In the morning, everyone was chatting together. As he passed by the hallway, he overheard his colleagues discussing.

"Have you heard about Captain He from Tianning Base? He just received another individual second-class merit award. That’s his third, right?"

"Exactly. I heard he’s about the same age as our Director Jiang—both young and accomplished."

"Captain He…" Jiang Shangxue repeated the title softly after hearing his colleagues’ discussion, but suddenly felt a wave of dizziness, as if something had suddenly pierced his mind.

This feeling made him somewhat uncomfortable, as if he had forgotten something very important, and his heart clenched.

The discomfort persisted until after getting off work and didn’t ease even after a night's sleep.

When Jiang Shangxue woke up in the morning, he lay in bed, desperately trying to recall who "Captain He" was, but his memory told him they had never met. He couldn’t even explain what was happening to him.

The Spring Festival Gala played on TV as background noise. His mother served a plate of dumplings, and as his parents brought up the topic of marriage pressure, he absentmindedly picked up a dumpling and took a bite.

After just one bite, he frowned.

"Mom..." Jiang Shangxue asked, puzzled, "Why didn’t we make cabbage-filled dumplings this year?"

His parents, who had been talking, suddenly turned to look at him, their eyes filled with confusion: "When has this family ever made cabbage-filled dumplings?" His mother asked him, perplexed. "It’s always been leek-filled dumplings—your favorite."

He looked at his father, who wore the same expression of not understanding why he would suddenly ask such a thing.

Never had cabbage-filled dumplings? How could that be?

A crack suddenly tore open in his memory, and countless recollections flooded back into his mind.

A familiar voice echoed in his ears once more, but this time it called the name Li Shang.

"Li Shang, I’m waiting for you."

He Lin—so it was He Lin.

Jiang Shangxue finally remembered the name "Captain He" and recalled that he himself was Li Shang.

Everything before him had merely been a fleeting dream.

He gently set down his chopsticks: "Mom, Dad, I should go back now."

His mother was taken aback: "Leaving already? Do you have to work a shift at the department?"

His father frowned slightly, as if understanding something, and asked him: "Is something not good here?"

He shook his head gently.

It was good. Very good.

So good that he wouldn’t have dared to dream such a beautiful dream in the past, but he couldn’t stay here anymore.

The life here was beautiful and peaceful, but any place without He Lin was false, no matter how perfect it seemed.

He couldn’t abandon that youth who had been sincere and passionate in his love for him, that young man who had once been willing to risk his life to fight alongside him, that lover who had forgotten him and then remembered him again. He could never forget that deeply etched love.

He said softly: "Someone is waiting for me. I have to go back."

This thought flashed through his mind and then grew more concrete, as if a large white dog were barking and leaping toward him, or like a hand gently gathering his scattered consciousness back together.

His heart pounded in his chest, and awareness surged like a tide.

Li Shang felt a wave of pain, but this pain helped him regain the tangible sense of his body’s existence. He could barely move, and it took some effort before he managed to open his eyes with difficulty.

He Lin, sitting by the hospital bed, held his cold hand. The moment their eyes met, He Lin stood up excitedly and pressed the nurse call button.

While waiting, He Lin pressed his forehead against his: "Li Shang, welcome back."

.

A month later, the first trial in the Psi-related cases began. This was the fastest outcome possible after recent round-the-clock investigations and summarizations by relevant agencies.

Chen Yanchu sat in the waiting room, lost in thought.

During this time, he had gleaned some of the outside developments from the police’s questioning. With Xia Yan and Nie Zhao arrested and Ruan Cong extradited to the country, the police had obtained substantial evidence from multiple sources confirming his identity.

The highly paid lawyer he had hired earlier had already given up in the face of such ironclad evidence.

Soon, his fate would be decided, with no possibility of reversal.

By this point, his testimony had become the least important aspect.

At night, he would repeatedly analyze how he had lost.

After much thought, he always got stuck on those two names: first He Lin... he felt nothing but resentment toward him, and even more so toward Li Shang, evoking a sense of "why must there be both Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang?"—a pity born of rivalry.

He was led by the police to the defendant's dock, keeping his head down and avoiding looking at anyone.

Witnesses came forward one after another to testify against him, and the victims' families wept bitterly in the courtroom.

He remained expressionless, his mind elsewhere, not hearing a word the judge said.

By the time the hearing ended, with a follow-up session scheduled for another day, he was led away by the police.

Walking into the corridor, Chen Yanchu looked up and saw He Lin pushing a wheelchair into the room. Sitting in the wheelchair was none other than Li Shang.

Li Shang looked somewhat more haggard than before, his face pale, but his eyes were so bright that Chen Yanchu felt his heart tremble.

Although Li Shang was sitting in a wheelchair with a thin blanket over his legs, his posture was no different from when he had interrogated him before.

It seemed that no matter what he sat on—a wheelchair or a swivel chair—it could become his throne.

Had these two been sitting in the public gallery earlier?

As victors, here to witness his misery?

Chen Yanchu’s eyes reddened after just one glance, and his teeth chattered with hatred.

The officer behind him pushed him, urging him to keep moving.

But Chen Yanchu deliberately paused: "What are you doing here?"

He Lin gestured to the officers behind him that it was alright, indicating they would only say a few words: "As witnesses, we will likely attend your trial and final sentencing."

Chen Yanchu clenched his teeth, thinking about how the empire he had built with his own hands had collapsed, and felt as if his heart were being torn apart.

Then, his gaze fell on Li Shang’s legs, and he forced a slight, strained smile.

He raised his chin in a provocative gesture: "I may have lost, but have you truly won? Not necessarily. But seeing Officer Li lose the use of his legs makes my life worth it."

At these words, Li Shang frowned slightly but soon let out a soft laugh: "I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you then."

After speaking, he pushed himself up with his arms, standing up from the wheelchair, and walked over to Chen Yanchu: "Dealing with you didn’t require such a high price."

Chen Yanchu’s face changed dramatically, and he froze on the spot.

Li Shang glanced back at He Lin with a hint of complaint: "I had a minor surgery recently, and my family made a big fuss, insisting I use this to get around. I’m afraid Mr. Chen has gotten the wrong idea."

This show of affection, thinly veiled as an apology, infuriated Chen Yanchu so much that he clutched his chest, nearly having a heart attack on the spot.

The officers behind him no longer allowed any delay and pushed him forward.

Escorted by two officers, Chen Yanchu was forced to move forward, yet he stubbornly kept looking back, craning his neck at an awkward angle, refusing to give up as he glared fiercely at the two men.

Perhaps he couldn’t understand how things had come to this, but what did it matter?

This world is not a chessboard manipulated by anyone; no one can dictate another’s fate.

But there wasn’t much time left for him to grasp this truth.

Li Shang and He Lin watched as this heinous criminal faced his final judgment.

After several trials, the court expedited proceedings and announced the verdict before the end of the year.

The police also issued a corresponding announcement:

Under the unified command and deployment of the public security organs, the provincial police have busted a major cross-border money laundering criminal syndicate, dismantled one illegal website, arrested multiple ringleaders of the criminal group, and uncovered related cases including fraud, human trafficking, and intentional homicide.

The case involves over a hundred additional accomplices, with a massive amount of illicit funds seized.

The two principal offenders, after being sentenced by the People’s Court and approved by the Supreme People’s Court, have been put to death in accordance with the law, with their political rights deprived for life.

The police will continue to combat all forms of illegal and criminal activities, fully ensuring the safety of people’s lives and property.

.

Six months later.

In Yuncheng, inside a newly built standalone facility next to the Municipal Bureau, over twenty elite police officers, who had been transferred there, waited for the meeting to officially begin.

This was the newly established Missing Persons Investigation Center, initiated by the Provincial Department, which centralized management of missing persons cases across the province. The person in charge was Li Shang, the overall director of the Provincial Investigation Center, responsible for coordination and decision-making. The specific implementation was handled by He Lin, the head of the Criminal Investigation Division of the Provincial Public Security Department.

The investigation center stored all missing persons case files within the province, possessed investigative authority, and could mobilize provincial police forces to cooperate in investigations. Its goal was to examine and organize missing persons cases, track leads, and solve difficult cases.

Once the time came, the two leaders entered the conference room and took their positions at the head of the table, one on the left and one on the right.

The detectives seated below straightened their backs.

He Lin, sitting at the table, scanned the gathering. Before him were veteran officers drawn from the Provincial Department, technical experts from Yuncheng, and young officers newly graduated from the police academy, their eyes burning with determination.

Among them were many familiar faces: Fang Jue, Cheng Xiaoyi, Zhou Tianyi, Sun Cheng, and Gu Niantang, all seated around the table.

He Lin spoke clearly: "Welcome, everyone, to the Missing Persons Investigation Center. From now on, we are colleagues. In recent years, missing persons cases have been on the rise, with an increasing number of cross-regional crimes. Municipal and county police forces alone are no longer sufficient to handle them. Therefore, the leadership decided to establish this investigation center. The Provincial Department chose Yuncheng for its convenient transportation and ease of cooperation with neighboring cities. The sign of the Missing Persons Investigation Center hanging here is not merely for appearance—it represents the responsibility on our shoulders."

After briefly outlining the work, he turned to Li Shang beside him: "Commander Li, would you like to say a few words?"

Li Shang raised his head, his gaze calm as he scanned the room. His voice was clear and composed: "Here, there are no expired cases. As long as the person remains missing, the case remains open. I hope everyone will work hard, giving each case the attention it deserves, and ensure that 'missing' does not become 'forgotten.'"

He Lin clapped his hands: "Alright, now that everyone has been introduced, let’s get to work!"

In an instant, everyone became busy.

He Lin looked up at Li Shang, and Li Shang returned his gaze.

The two exchanged a smile, stood up with a tacit understanding, and walked side by side to their office.

From then on, in the darkness of the night, there was another light burning for the missing, illuminating their path home.

Because there were those who refused to give up the last shred of hope, pursuing every lead to bring them back.

—End of Main Text