Chapter 40: Let’s Handle This Officially

Chapter 40: Let's Keep It Professional

Li Zhangyu resided in the faculty apartments of Hong Kong University.

The apartment building stood at the intersection of the campus and the commercial district. Its exterior, clad in cold, gleaming gray-black one-way glass, blended seamlessly with the surrounding corporate high-rises, soaring into the clouds.

Even two decades later, these buildings would still be considered tall.

As a tenured professor, Li Zhangyu was allocated a top-floor unit with the most commanding views.

Stepping out of the elevator and onto the sound-dampening carpet of the hallway, Jian Ruochen gazed out through the dark gray one-way glass beside him.

Lights twinkled, a tapestry of orange-red and bright yellow. The bustling city and the shimmering Victoria Harbour lay beneath his feet, seemingly within his grasp.

It truly felt as if he were standing atop the clouds.

Jian Ruochen looked at the towering buildings in the distance and the smaller structures nestled between them, finally experiencing firsthand that he stood at a pivotal moment in time.

He was not merely a time traveler but an active participant in every unfolding moment.

A cash flow exceeding 10 billion was even sufficient for him to invest in international trade centers.

Even if Guan Yingjun received an unfavorable answer today, leading to a fallout, Jian Ruochen possessed ample confidence.

"What building is that?" Jian Ruochen pointed through the window at a white building in the distance, even taller than their current apartment.

"That's Jardine House in Central," Guan Yingjun glanced at it, his gaze arcing through the air before settling precisely on Jian Ruochen's profile.

He stood still for a moment. "Let's go... I'll take you up there to see it sometime, if the opportunity arises."

Jian Ruochen smiled. "Sounds good."

Whether Guan Yingjun sought confirmation or refutation, it was of no consequence to him.

Jian Ruochen followed Guan Yingjun towards Li Zhangyu's room, as if he hadn't just been confronting Guan Yingjun while handcuffed.

Guan Yingjun knew it was merely a polite gesture.

Now, walking side by side down the same corridor, their relationship seemed irrevocably altered.

A gap of more than a person's width separated them, yet it felt as though an invisible wall had completely divided them.

The soft, sound-absorbing carpet muffled all footsteps. This silence persisted for several minutes until Guan Yingjun pressed Li Zhangyu's doorbell.

Once. The door remained closed.

Guan Yingjun pressed the round button again, tapping it quickly and briefly three times.

Li Zhangyu opened the door, his hair disheveled and glasses askew, brows tightly furrowed as he scowled and tsked. "Kid, what do you want?"

"Godfather." Guan Yingjun stood at the doorway, looking up to meet Li Zhangyu's gaze. His eyes welled up. "I need to talk to you about something important."

Li Zhangyu was startled.

Whoa, this expression was serious.

He's calling me Godfather? Since Guan Yingjun acknowledged him as his godfather, he hadn't used the term more than ten times in total. It was always "Uncle Li, Uncle Li."

The last time this kid called him Godfather was to persuade him to convince Lei Jinwen to let him go undercover in Bangkok.

What major issue had he encountered this time?

Li Zhangyu's irritation at being roused in the middle of the night immediately dissipated.

He stepped aside. "Come in."

Guan Yingjun removed his shoes and entered, revealing Jian Ruochen behind him.

Li Zhangyu paused, surprised.

Jian Ruochen offered a shy smile. "Good evening, Professor Li. I apologize for disturbing you so late."

"You're here on business too?" Li Zhangyu asked suspiciously, glancing back at Guan Yingjun.

Jian Ruochen waved his hand. "No, Guan Yingjun brought me here."

"Oh..." Li Zhangyu opened the shoe cabinet and retrieved a new pair of slippers. "Come in."

How peculiar. Why was Jian Ruochen calling Guan Yingjun by his full name? Didn't he used to call him Detective Guan?

Li Zhangyu hastily wiped his face and combed his hair, tidying himself up before returning to make two cups of coffee for Guan Yingjun and Jian Ruochen.

The flustered professor bustled about, finally settling in front of the coffee table five minutes later. "Alright, what's going on?"

Jian Ruochen picked up the hot coffee and instinctively moved to take a sip, but before his lips could touch the rim, the cup was gently taken away.

Guan Yingjun handed his own cup to Li Zhangyu, then took Jian Ruochen's. "The doctor said you can't drink coffee. I'll drink it."

He paused, then added, "Uncle Li, take a look at these writing samples. Could they possibly have been written by the same person?"

Two pieces of paper were placed on the coffee table.

Li Zhangyu didn't even need to retrieve a magnifying glass. "These are clearly not by the same person. What? Has our Xiao Chen encountered another psycho killer?"

He rose to fetch some orange juice, pouring a fresh glass and placing it in front of Jian Ruochen. "Drink this."

Jian Ruochen: "Thank you."

He took a sip, then made a startling declaration, "Professor Li, I wrote both of these."

Li Zhangyu: "..."

He turned, retrieved his magnifying glass, and meticulously examined the two pieces of paper before sinking onto the sofa, questioning his professional expertise.

If these were indeed written by one person, then four of his six SCI papers on handwriting analysis would be invalidated—including one in a Category 1 journal and three in second-tier journals.

Was he mentoring a student?

Or a thesis annihilator?

If he started rewriting his papers now, he'd be working from early 1993 straight through to 1994.

Li Zhangyu struggled to speak, "These are two different people."

He pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. "Unless you write it again right now."

Jian Ruochen, holding his cup, admitted frankly, "I can't write it now."

He pointed at the paper. "This is me from two months ago."

Then he gestured to the recently written notes. "This is the current me."

With a slight smile, he said, "After inheriting my mother's estate, I feel like my life has undergone earth-shattering changes. One cannot return to the past, and neither can one's handwriting."

Li Zhangyu suddenly understood. "Handwriting does change with shifts in mindset and circumstances, sometimes in as little as 20 days. However... I've never seen such a thorough transformation in such a short time before."

Alright, alright.

That's a sound explanation. His papers are safe.

Guan Yingjun was taken aback. "So this change is reasonable?"

He let out a small sigh of relief.

Li Zhangyu was momentarily stunned.

That sigh of relief completely threw him off.

What kind of answer was Guan Yingjun hoping for?

That Jian Ruochen is simply Jian Ruochen?

"It's reasonable," Li Zhangyu affirmed.

Guan Yingjun relaxed completely.

Jian Ruochen chuckled, leaned forward, and placed his empty orange juice glass on the glass coffee table. The bottom of the glass made a soft "clink" as it met the surface.

Guan Yingjun still had "eye drops" and "the mistaken salute" on his mind.

These matters needed to be addressed concurrently.

Jian Ruochen couldn't allow Guan Yingjun to continue this endless pursuit.

Jian Ruochen glanced at Guan Yingjun, then looked directly into Li Zhangyu's eyes. "Professor Li, since Detective Guan can't bring himself to say it, I will."

"Guan Yingjun believes I'm a completely different person from before. He thinks I shouldn't possess knowledge of psychology and microexpressions—subjects outside the common purview of a medical student. Based on these two points, he might be speculating... that I'm an undercover agent infiltrating the West Kowloon division."

Guan Yingjun hadn't expected him to be so direct. His lips parted slightly, but he found himself at a loss for words to defend himself.

Only then did Li Zhangyu comprehend why Guan Yingjun had brought him the handwriting samples.

Jian Ruochen: "But during the Huo Jinze murder case, my DNA was collected. The information recorded then matched exactly with what was provided when I enrolled at Hong Kong University Medical School a year ago."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Is there even technology to forge DNA information now?"

In 1992, it took three days just to run a DNA test—and that was considered fast.

Forgery? How could that be possible?

Li Zhangyu remained silent for a moment, then declared, "Guan Yingjun, come with me!"

He turned on the TV and said to Jian Ruochen, "The DVD player is right there. Feel free to put on a movie if you'd like. I need to have a word with him."

Li Zhangyu led Guan Yingjun to the study.

As soon as the door closed, he immediately sighed. "What are you doing?"

Guan Yingjun lowered his gaze. "I'm getting to the bottom of this."

In the presence of someone he trusted, he began to analyze himself. "From a professional standpoint, Jian Ruochen is connected to both the Jiang and Lu families—he's involved in the case. If he has any issues, it would undoubtedly have an indelible impact on West Kowloon. Eliminating suspicion around him is my job."

"From a personal standpoint..." Guan Yingjun faltered, unable to continue.

Li Zhangyu paced around the room a couple of times. "Jian Ruochen is now deeply intertwined with West Kowloon—their fates are shared. What kind of undercover agent could possibly achieve that?"

Guan Yingjun closed his eyes, sat on the study sofa, and after a moment of gathering himself, said, "From a personal standpoint, I think I like him. I'm afraid that if he really does have issues, and I keep waiting, I might lose my rationality and fail to be ruthless."

If Jian Ruochen truly had problems, Guan Yingjun might not even be able to bring himself to take him to the detention center.

Li Zhangyu: "Huh?"

"He... sometimes even seems to glow in my eyes," Guan Yingjun's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice almost inaudible.

Li Zhangyu was utterly astonished. Guan Yingjun, showing softness?

Guan Yingjun leaned back into the sofa. "Today, I couldn't even bring myself to draw my gun on him. If we spend more time together, I'm afraid I might do something even more inappropriate."

Li Zhangyu: "Your strictness, self-discipline, and adherence to principles are certainly commendable. But you've always acted without restraint before, so this time you didn't consider how things would play out, did you?"

Guan Yingjun was taken aback.

Li Zhangyu: "Jian Ruochen has a gentle temperament, but he has his own principles."

"He's not your subordinate, nor is he a suspect. If you approach him with doubt, he'll naturally respond in kind."

"Force works both ways, and so do emotions."

Li Zhangyu paused, then turned and pulled a few document boxes from the bookshelf. "Actually, as long as the DNA is consistent, Jian Ruochen is Jian Ruochen. There are no other possibilities."

"As for your doubts, I can address those too."

"These are all cases I encountered at the FBI. These two are classic examples."

Though Li Zhangyu was in his pajamas, for a moment, it felt as if he were back in a lecture hall addressing thousands. His teaching style was humorous and engaging, a legacy of his time studying in the U.S.

"Regarding Jian Ruochen's symptoms, would you prefer a scientific explanation or a more supernatural one?"

Guan Yingjun: ...Huh?

There are two types?

Li Zhangyu: "Scientifically speaking, this phenomenon of becoming a completely different person after a major life upheaval is academically known as dissociative identity disorder. After experiencing significant trauma, he may have stopped identifying with his previous identity and personality, dissociating to form a stronger persona to handle risks."

Li Zhangyu brought his two index fingers together, then swiftly separated them, bending each slightly. "These two personas—one outward, one inward—exist independently without interfering with each other."

He helped Guan Yingjun open the case file. "This case is similar to what I described, but the individual dissociated into five distinct personalities."

Guan Yingjun, encountering this concept for the first time, looked down and studied the file carefully before asking, "He's ill?"

How can there be so many illnesses?

Bad eyesight, poor health, and potentially mental problems too?

Li Zhangyu nodded gravely. "Usually, yes. But there are unusual cases too."

Guan Yingjun asked, "What exceptions?"

"In the U.S., there's such a thing as spiritualism. Some witches can even communicate with the dead. There's one person who specializes in this skill and solves cases faster than I do."

Li Zhangyu set up his point. "Human consciousness and soul exist in a higher dimension, beyond our observation. These seemingly intangible things might very well be real—it's just that we can't explain them scientifically yet."

Guan Yingjun: "..."

Li Zhangyu said, "To put it more simply... Jian Ruochen might have undergone a soul transfer or soul possession."

As he spoke, he brought his two index fingers together again. "Every choice our world makes creates different branches, forming countless new worlds that develop based on that choice."

"And it's highly possible that the Jian Ruochen in our world has swapped with the Jian Ruochen from a different timeline in a parallel universe."

Li Zhangyu articulated in smooth American English, "Quantum mechanics."

Guan Yingjun listened, bewildered.

Had they truly gone from solving cases to consulting psychics?

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then suddenly slapped his own cheek hard.

It hurt.

But why did it feel like a dream?

Li Zhangyu cleared his throat. "If Jian Ruochen has dissociative identity disorder, then when he suffers harm again, he might very well develop a third personality or switch back to a previous identity."

"If he's the second type—something current science can't explain—then he might suddenly disappear just as he suddenly appeared here."

Guan Yingjun rubbed his thumbs together, his expression unreadable.

Li Zhangyu said, "The current Jian Ruochen is a good kid, but the previous one might not have been. His devotion to Lu Qian was clearly somewhat blind. You should be more worried about whether the current Jian Ruochen might disappear."

Guan Yingjun clenched his fist abruptly. He opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single word.

The man was speechless, breathing heavily.

In the quiet study, those rough, heavy breaths were like storm waves crashing against the eardrums again and again.

Guan Yingjun blinked.

He suddenly realized he had braced himself for Jian Ruochen being an undercover agent, but he hadn't prepared for the possibility that Jian Ruochen might disappear.

If this person suddenly reverted to the medical student described by informants—the one who would give up everything for Lu Qian...

Guan Yingjun didn't even dare to imagine what he might do. "Whether it's the first scenario or the second, he might disappear?" he asked.

Li Zhangyu nodded. "Of course."

Guan Yingjun stood up abruptly. He turned, opened the study door, and strode into the living room.

Jian Ruochen had fallen asleep slumped against the armrest of the sofa, completely at ease, almost as if he could predict the outcome of Guan Yingjun and Li Zhangyu's conversation.

A movie was playing on the TV.

Guan Yingjun glanced at the title—*Lover*.

On the screen, the couple's passion intensified. They kissed in a mansion by the roadside. The Hong Kong actor's strong profile was imbued with desire and lust as his fingers traced up his lover's back under the hem of his shirt.

Listening to Jian Ruochen's breathing, Guan Yingjun was afraid to wake him.

Would the Jian Ruochen who woke up still be the one who confronted him?

Li Zhangyu: "..."

Self-discipline is a virtue, but the problem was that Guan Yingjun used to be *too* self-disciplined.

No matter what he did, he could always forge ahead without flinching.

He lived a flat and uninteresting life, which led him to suppress his true nature, restrain himself, and never truly let go.

Now, under extreme pressure, he was hitting rock bottom and rebounding.

Li Zhangyu suggested, "Perhaps you could confide in Jian Ruochen. He has a real knack for psychology and learns quickly. You could be his first patient."

Guan Yingjun pulled himself upright. "What if he can't accept someone like me?"

Li Zhangyu shrugged. "He has the right to choose whether to accept you or not. That's not your decision to make."

From the TV came the actor's murmuring, accompanied by the creaking of a wooden bedframe.

"Beep beep beep—"

Guan Yingjun's pager suddenly rang.

Jian Ruochen jolted upright from the sofa, eyes bleary as he fumbled out his small square pager and glanced at it.

It wasn't his.

Guan Yingjun reached out and turned off the somewhat racy TV scene, then played the recording.

Zhang Xingzong's strained voice came through:

"Detective Guan, 89, Zone 3 Central, West Kowloon—a homicide with cooked remains. You better get here quick, ugh... so many meal boxes... suspect ugh—" [retching sound]

The recording ended abruptly there.

Meal boxes?

Jian Ruochen was particularly sensitive to that word.

He clambered to his feet, still looking dazed. "Zone 3 Central? Isn't that right here?"

As he spoke, he subtly inched away from Guan Yingjun.

Guan Yingjun noticed the rejection and gripped the pager tighter. The plastic device emitted a strained creak.

Li Zhangyu cautioned, "You'll break it."

Guan Yingjun looked down and saw he had bent the plastic casing of the pager out of shape. Tiny wires and components poked out from the gaps.

He raised his hand and dropped the broken pager onto the coffee table.

Jian Ruochen simply stood up and fixed his hair. "Are you done investigating?" he asked.

He glanced at the damaged pager. Did Guan Yingjun and Professor Li's conversation not go well?

Guan Yingjun was steady as a team leader and had good investigative skills, but he was just too paranoid.

Working together, having a partner who's overly suspicious is no good. Guan Yingjun only trusts answers he's repeatedly verified, which is one reason why he did nothing this time and let him investigate.

After all, even if he told the truth, Guan Yingjun wouldn't believe him.

But this couldn't go on forever—it was too draining.

Might as well just...

"Let's keep it professional."